ANGELO | Pablo Gavi English version

Chapter 2

GIORGIA
Cuando todo sale mal (morad)

August 6

I don't even know how, but I ended up accompanying Gabriella, my best friend, to a charity gala at her aunt's equestrian club, where she also practices horseback riding. As always, I end up accompanying her to all these kinds of events. And I end up spending all my pay on buying something suitable for the occasion. For today's gala, I'm going quite simple. My brown hair gathered in a low bun, a turquoise blue dress that stood out with my skin tanned by the sun and some shoes that Gabi gave me

We entered the place, greeted his uncles and took a walk around the premises.

The gala is quite boring. It consists of millionaires talking about their fortunes. Which would donate a part of it. Since I'm closer to the door, I decide to sneak away.

I know the place a lot, whenever I can I come with Gabi either to see her train or for a competition. I walk through a long corridor until I reach another auditorium. In it, there is a boy with his back to me, looking at the prizes in several glass showcases.

"Hello?" I ask, doubtful.

He turns around. Tall, brown with eyes and hair, which is quite short, and with the skin somewhat tanned by the sun, Ferran gives me a smile.

I met Ferran months ago. One of Gabi's companions, Sira, is the boy's girlfriend, who is a footballer from Barça. And our first meeting was quite fun. I knew him, more than once there had been pictures of him on television coming here to watch Sira compete and talking about the reaction of the Barcelona striker with Sira. In addition to seeing him at Barça's games on television.

– Ostia Gio. What a scare. Hello.

We laughed at  bottom.

We chatted for a while while looking at the showcases. I had only crossed a few words with him, but in these minutes we have made some brief presentations. He is from Valencia, he used to play in Manchester and since last season he has been playing for Barcelona.

"And you?" he asks curiously.

– Giorgia Angelo. Seventeen years old, although I turn eighteen in a week. From Italy, but raised here. There is little else to tell, Fer.

I hear some applause in the background. The talk is over and that means that the picapica begins. The best part of the whole evening, without a doubt.

"Are we going to eat?" I ask.

He nods and we left the room. When we arrived, everyone is standing, applauding the lady who was in the small grandstand they had set up for the occasion.

People begin to go outside, where the horses and the areas to train are. I don't know much about the world of horse racing, but I'm reading the trophy inscriptions.

I see my friend talking to Sira. I'm going to them followed by Ferran. The four of us got together and exchanged greetings.

One of the catering waiters they have hired passes by with a tray of canapés, which ends up grabbing Ferrán.

"Do you want to come to Sunday's game?" says Ferran, swallowing a canapé.

"Yes, for me," says my friend. Gigi?

Whatever you want. That way I don't have to go to the cafeteria.

On weekends and when I have time, I work in the family cafeteria, Angelo. In honor of our last name.

"Well, let's go," says Gabi, determined.

The party is quiet, from time to time people approach Sira and Gabi, and congratulate them on the latest competitions. Or, on several occasions, children asking Ferran for photos.

"We're going to leave," says Sira. Shall we take you home?

My uncle is taking me. "I have to stay until the end of the gala," says Gabi, a little tired.

"Can you take me?" I ask the couple. I'm sleepy - I'm complaining.

Ferrán leaves me at home after eleven. I say goodbye with two kisses to both of us and I go to my house.

The Angelo house seems worthy of a movie. It is white, three-plant, quite traditional and simple. I go in without making any noise and I see that the lights are off. It's rare to be Saturday at my house.

I turn on my cell phone, which I have barely used today. I see a message from my younger brother, Enzo.

Enzo<3

We are in Angelo watching the game. He wouldn't let us at home.

There is ice cream in the freezer for you.

Good night.

I'll say good night and I'll lock my phone again. I go to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. I receive a message from Sira telling me of the day and time of the game. It's a friendly against Sevilla, on Sunday at four fifteen in the afternoon. I'm not a big fan of soccer, but my family has always seen soccer, from any European league, but always soccer. And I wanted to watch a game on the field, even if I had already gone before, watching my friend play live has to be exciting.