Since we were 7 { Pablo Gavi }

49. Slap happy

To say I've never been affected by a loss is a total lie. Going past people screaming of joy hurts when your national team lost. We're done. We go home. We went to the round of 16 and lost to Morocco. We couldn't make any penalties and I closed my eyes and prayed when we missed our first.

Pedri sits down in the middle of the field with his head hanging down between his legs. When he looks up to the sky his eyes have faint tears. I want to go down there so bad but don't know if I should.

I watch him intently, not taking my eyes off of him. He searches the crowd until he sees me and he waves me down with tears falling and I jump up from my seat and sprint down to him, dodging people on my way to him.

When I jump down onto the field I jog to up to him then walk slowly when I get 10 feet from him. I sit down next to him on the turf and we stare at the goal. He doesn't want to talk, he just wants company. We stare at the goal that we couldn't score in, they couldn't score in.

I feel weight on my shoulder suddenly and look down to see Pedris leaning against me. I smile sadly and wrap an arm around him. He continues to face the goal lost in his own flood, his dam broke and the negative thoughts are flooding his mind- you can always tell by the blank face, I know because I feel it happen. Once a dam breaks there's really nothing you can do but wait it out.

Gavi comes on the other side of me and sits down putting his head on my other shoulder. I wrap my arm around him and hold my boys. We all stare forward, Pedri feeling like he didn't do enough, thinking he didn't focus enough, blaming himself for them losing. Gavi feeling like he let his team down, that he didn't show up prepared, he was the youngest and couldn't prove anything but that he was the youngest, the least mature on the field.

I don't know what to do at this point, there is no trying to cheer them up this time. I'm not mad, I'm not upset, I didn't play- but I know if I did I'd blame myself, feel embarrassed in front of my teams fans. I don't try to say anything but hold them.

I lean my head against Gavi. Against Gavi. Always a dou in a trio crosses my mind and I pick my head up. I sit in the middle and take their pain from them, give me their pain please make me hurt and not them.

"Tenemos que irnos, vamos" I say quietly and stand up.

I extend a hand to each boy and they both take it and stand. They start walking and I walk in the middle and put my arms around their shoulders. The three of us walk sadly into the locker room.

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We look out the door and see tens of millions of cameras flashing. People are screaming still, we lost and they're still cheering.

Pedri hands me his hoodie and I slip it on over my jersey. He puts his arm around me and lean against his chest, he still hasn't talked to me. Gavi and Ansu stand by each other and look out the glass door preparing themselves for the paparazzi.

"C'mon" Xavi says and a few boys go at a time.

Me and Pedri go with just us and I wish I wouldn't have gone this way at all. I shouldn't have rid in the bus with them.

"Brylie who are you dating?"

"Are you two dating?"

"Pedri are you okay with her talking to different guys?"

"How can you be with her when she talks to so many guys?"

"You know she's a whore right?"

"18 years old and can't get a grip of herself"

Pedri puts the hood up over my head and holds me closer to his chest, blocking my face. Tears stream down my face and I cry into his shirt.