Change of Location - Pedri González

ii. introduction

***

For a notoriously warm country, Barcelona was chilly at night.

When Sophia taps her phone screen, it read 1:23am. Sira — having stopped at the 24 hours convenience store right outside the Barcelona club to grab a bottle of water — said the cab would arrive at 1:15am. Now, both Spanish girls perched on an unused electricity bank right outside the club. With a bag of salted potato chips too.

What a successful night out.

"Do people ever, like, recognise you being your dad's daughter?" Sophia asks her roommate. "Since we live in Barca and Enrique was a bit of a Barca legend."

Sira shrugs, draping her grey shacket over her and Sophia's bare legs.

"They hardly ever do, really. Finding Barca fans who've rooted themselves in the history of the club has become a difficult thing. If they do, though, they always ask if I have any of the player's numbers."

"They do?"

"Yup."

"And... do you have any player's numbers?"

Sira tries suppressing her grin. "You're gonna laugh, but I have Sergio Ramos's number from when I was 17."

Sophia's mouth drops open. "How!"

"Dad didn't have his phone at the time, and needed to message Ramos something. It was when he just started managing Spain. I was there and he somehow memorised all of his player's numbers, if that's even possible. My dad is strange. Anyways, he called Ramos and told me to delete the number later."

"But you didn't?"

"Aw, fuck no!" Sira laughs. "It's Sergio Ramos, man. Notorious legend. Would you?"

"Nah," agreed Sophia. A shiver chilled up her spine. "Honestly, Saz, I'm fine. I can drive. This cab doesn't seem to want to come."

"No, Soph, you are not driving." says Sira. She hops off the metal container. "I'm gonna go and find some signal, see where this cab has gotten lost to. If you get into trouble, call me." She pauses. "Or scream."

Sophia nods. "I'll scream."

Sira nods, then hurries away. She also took her shacket, which was the main thing keeping Sophia's legs warm, so jumps off the container and starts jumping on the spot, arms tight at her side. She thinks how useless this all was, because her mind wasn't cleared — even worse than it was — and she was missing out on so much valuable study time. Scratch that, actually. All nighters have never worked for Sophia. But sleep sounded so good right now.

A cold breath whooshed from Sophia's mouth. Where is Sira? She should've established that the SOS-scream goes both ways. Praying that her roommate is okay, and she was about to call her, when—

"Ah, mierda."

The voice came from her right. Where, at the moment, a street food cart was dumped, shutters down. It jolted her heart a beat at knowing she wasn't alone, in this abandoned dark place behind a club...

"Stop moving," she heard another voice say.

"You're fussing. I'm fine. Let's go." The first voice says. They were both male.

"How long has it hurt, hm? Are you seriously going to be that stupid?"

A scoff. "You're one to talk about being stupid. Pays for a girl's drink but can't even get her number?"

"And who was too scared to get that number in the first place?"

Sophia halts. Could it be—?

No. It was dark, and late, and Sira would be coming around any minute now. She could not be reckless. Sophia's parents would not approve of what she was about to do. She heard them again.