“That was a great game against Galicia.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
“You played really well.”
I dip my head in thanks. And it’s strange, because I have been playing well. Even though I spend each day feeling mostly nauseous and drained, my game is on point. I’m channeling everything I can’t express—heartache, loneliness, frustration—into fútbol.
While social media outlets speculate that Carla’s and my relationship is “on the rocks,” we haven’t confirmed anything. Not when our careers are at pivotal moments, me with the end of the season and Carla with her team’s final game. And wasn’t that the catalyst of our break? So, we could focus on our careers?
I snicker to myself. It looks like Carla was right.
“Why are you laughing?” my sister questions, looking alarmed.
“Ugh,” I groan, scrubbing a hand over my face. I forgot she was still on the call.
“Damn, fratello, Carla García really messed you up,” Bianca comments, peering at me with concern in her gaze. “You should have let me make dating profiles for you.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Bianca sighs. “I was worried this would happen.”
“That Carla would break up with me?”
B, never one to mince words, nods. “Carla’s awesome. She’s fun and outgoing and a total girls’ girl. But she also dates fun, outgoing, temporary guys. Men that she’ll never really settle down with.”
“Thanks.”
“You were her exception, not her rule. But I still worried. And now…” She tosses a hand in the air.
“I’m fine, B. I’ll move past this. Tomorrow is my last game of the regular season and then, I only have finals for Champions League. By this time next week, I’ll be focused on the camp?—”
“The camp that you and Carla are running together,” B points out.
I make a face. “I’ve been worried about that.”
“You should be. It’s going to be awkward as fuck.”
“I think we can both be professional.”
“Yeah.” B nods. “But I also think you’re both hurting.”
I sit up straight at that. “What have you heard?”
Bianca snorts. “Just that Carla is pushing herself to the max. Sunday is her team’s final game. If they win, they win the regional trophy. And on Monday, she leaves for Alicante to begin her trial with Alicante Atléticas. It’s a lot of pressure and she’s unraveling a bit.”
“Marlowe used the word unraveling?” I question, knowing my sister is getting her information from Ale’s wife. Or maybe from Andrés?
“She said she hopes Carla doesn’t crack under the pressure. She’s worried Carla is trying to do too many things at once and be a rock star at all of them.”
“She can do it. I have no doubt about that. Carla is a rock star.”
“I think so, too,” Bianca murmurs. “Maybe you guys will work this out. You’ll be together for two weeks at camp. There’s a chance you’re back together before preseason training starts.”
“I doubt it,” I reply. A pang cuts through my chest at the confession, but I don’t want to get my hopes up. Not even for my subconsciousness.
Bianca sighs. “I have to go, Luca. Call me after your game tomorrow?”
“I’ll talk to you later, B.”
