He shakes his head, grinning. “¡Pase perfecto!” Perfect pass!
And with that play, we set the tone for the game. Working together, we stay steady and sharp and play to win. Our opponent, Club Lyon, plays hard but when the clock runs out, League Valencia wins 3-2.
Ale claps me hard on the back as Andrés pulls me into a hug.
“¡Buen partido!” Sounds around us. Good game!
I can’t stop grinning as I pull back to glance around the stadium. The swell of love and support slams into me and I fight the emotion that wells in my throat.
In many ways, my parents, my family, sacrificed their lives to give me this opportunity. Every time I step onto the pitch, I play my hardest to honor their sacrifice.
Ale runs to the sidelines and catapults himself into his family’s waiting arms. I note Marlowe is here now, looking pale but smiling happily, with a member of the Sewing Circle flanking each side.
Andrés embraces his parents who flew in from Australia for the championship games. Carlos tosses his baby girl into the air before kissing both of her cheeks and cradling her against his chest.
I duck my head, ready to head to the locker room when my name is called. “DiBlanco!”
I turn and see Carla hanging over the divider to the stands. “Cucciola.” I walk closer.
She reaches for me and when I grasp her hand, she leans over the metal bar to kiss both my cheeks. “That was one hell of a game.”
“Grazie.”
Carla smirks, those blue-green eyes shimmering like gemstones. “You know, I think a player could learn a thing or two from you.”
I chuckle, playing along. “You think so?”
“Yeah. You should consider running a camp or something.”
“I’ll take that into consideration. You know, we’ve fallen off on your training sessions.”
“I know. It’s been busy.”
“Yeah. But a player like you…you should be playing for the national team.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t make this about me, Luca. Today, we’re celebrating you and League Valencia.”
“Vale. Let me buy you a beer at Corcho.”
She laughs. “Let me buy you a beer.”
I shake my head. “And tomorrow, meet me at the pitch in Turia at seven p.m. We’ll get back to our training sessions.”
“If you want to see me so badly, you could just ask me out on a date.”
I smirk. I love how direct Carla can be when she’s not wallowing in self-doubt. “I’ll take that under advisement, too, cucciola.”
Her eyes sparkle. “Bueno.” Good.
“Meet me by the locker room in thirty?”
“I’ll be there.”
19
Carla
The following week, I receive a text from Luca that makes me smile.
