Helping out her best friend by playing the lead in that music video project for university had seemed like an easy enough feat for art student Lorelai García. Only, it wasn't. Especially since not only Lorelai, but the whole first team of the FC Bar...
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Neymar was all too aware of the piercing stare his best friend gave him when he plopped down onto the couch at home. He crossed his arms over his face, feet dangling over the arm of the couch. He sighed heavily.
»So, how did it go?« Gil asked, nonchalantly. He sat on the second couch lined up with the wall, whereas Neymar had opted for his favourite place in the house — the shorter couch angled next to the one Gil was sitting on. It was his designated place for watching TV or playing video games. Or simply hanging out around the house.
Neymar lifted his arms shortly to give his best friend an angry glare, then he went back to what he had opted to do now: sulking. Which, he resolved, was the perfect way to deal with the situation he found himself in.
»Okay, so not so good then.«
»No. It was great. Don't you see in what good of a mood I am?« Neymar snapped.
»Yes,« Gil deadpanned. »Lovely.«
Neymar sighed but didn't speak. He didn't feel like talking. And now that he thought about it, he didn't feel like throwing a pity-party for himself either anymore.
»Let's do something,« he suggested, sitting up. »Where are the rest of the guys?«
»They went out for dinner,« Gil answered. »I wasn't that hungry so I thought I'd wait for you.«
Great, Neymar thought. What good was it to have his best pals shipped over from Brazil every once in a while when they decided to do things without him? »Then let's do something anyways.«
»Okay. Like what?«
»I don't know!« He gave his friend an annoyed look.
»Hey, I wasn't the one to reject you, so calm down, will you?« Gil retorted.
»She didn't reject me!« Neymar groaned in frustration, then he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. »There wasn't anything to reject in the first place anyway.«
Which was a new sensation for him, he realised. Ever since a young age, he hadn't had the most difficult times with girls. Even though he didn't really consider himself a good flirter, the girl he was interested in at the time usually was — if not eager — then at least positive towards him. He thanked God everyday for the easy-going personality and good-naturedness he had been gifted with; even though that turned into shyness and awkwardness when confronted with the opposite sex more often than not, at least, that's how he felt whenever he was in the presence of the girl he liked. Still, girls apparently »dug that«, as Gil always explained to him whenever Neymar felt the need to analyse the flock of girls looking for his affections. Small miracle that he'd managed to remain cool with Lorelai so far.
Of course, having a God-given talent in football, which he worked hard for every day of his life, also helped. But here he was now, at a loss for what to do and how to act. The girl he was interested in didn't show any interest in him. He wasn't too familiar with that feeling of rejection he had felt earlier today. And it irked him to no end. Hm, wait a minute, did that make him arrogant?, he pondered. Dammit, now he himself called it rejection!
