january fourth | neymar jr

chapter twenty

Morgan

January 18, 22

  I woke up at 8 am and saw that Neymar had sent me a message an hour ago. I was expecting it; he had sent me a message each morning when he knew I'd be up soon. I always liked the small gesture, I hadn't woken up with a good morning message for years.

  Good morning, what are your plans for today? I'm at training but I get off at 10. Text me

  I smiled when I read the message. He knew I didn't like the time conversions, so he always used my time when we texted. It was another small thing that he did that made me like him so much more.

  There were a few times when I thought about us, about what it would be like if we dated. When we first started talking, he would flirt, which made me think he was interested in me, but he didn't do that any more. I just figured he lost interest and wanted to be friends, which would probably be best.

  After all, we haven't even known each other for a month. We hadn't even met in person. Yet. That would change in a week.

  I responded to Neymar's message and got out of bed to shower. I had the same routine each morning- I couldn't go a day without showering or washing my hair. I got the greasy hair gene from my mom. 

  Good afternoon, Ney, as usual I dont have anything planned. What are you up to after training

  The formalities about his training had ceased about a week ago when he had pointed out that everyone is allowed on their phones during training in case of emergencies. (That rule wasn't followed, clearly, people used it for things other than emergencies. Ex; texting your friend- me- obviously.) To my surprise, he responded quite quickly. I had only made it to the bathroom before he texted back.

  I have dinner with Leo and Antonella, which reminds me, they want to go out to dinner when you come, to meet you

  Lionel Messi- soccer icon, wants to meet me? If Sierra was awake, she'd be jumping all over the place. I felt bad that she couldn't come to Paris, but she assured me that she'd stay busy for 2 weeks. That's right- I'm spending two weeks in Paris. I was surprised it was that long, but Neymar assured me he never had any guests at his guest house.

  Neymar said he could buy another ticket for her, which, obviously I wouldn't allow, but there'd be so much of a language barrier because she could only communicate to me. I made a mental note to hire a teacher for her to learn Portuguese.

  Seriously? If you told me that a month ago i would have dropped dead on the floor

  I sent the message and got in the shower. I started thinking about Paris. If you told December me, also, that I'd be spending two weeks in Paris, living in Neymar da Silva Santos' guesthouse, I would have dropped dead. Again. 

  When I got out of the shower, I put on the sweats that I had worn a few days ago on my flight to New York, the matching ones with Sierra. Neymar still hadn't texted me, and I didn't think anything of it. I figured he was probably just doing something in training where he couldn't look at his phone. 

  Sierra was in the kitchen, eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch. "Morning, C," I said, and she jumped. "God, I'm still not used to you living with me," she said and turned around. I pursed my lips. Seriously? "You mean you living with me?" She rolled her eyes and turned around. 

  I got a bowl from the cabinet that was closest to Sierra and sat next to her. I lifted the box of cereal, and it was empty. "Seriously, C?" She looked at me. "I was hungry," she groaned. "I bought this box like two days ago, I've eaten one bowl of this," I commented.