Hold Me Close

new plot

There is nothing quite like the feeling of the ball at my feet. Ever since I was a child, the sensation fueled me, put the energy I had to good use, kept me sane. On the pitch, dribbling forward like I am now, I feel capable of anything.

Everyone else is inside, having left before Andries could finish his sentence that permitted their dismissal. Training was challenging and centred around switching from attack to defence faster than what we had been doing against Italy. We are all tired, and so I don't blame them for running away before he could put us through some extra drills.

I like being alone like this. I don't mind that they will tease me about training harder, accusing me of feeling robbed of the awards I lost out on because of Alexia Putellas.

The training pitches are without noise or foot traffic. I stand up straight, gazing past the nets, feeling comforted by the lack of people that I can see. I've been thinking, you see, about this forced solitude. Without Scarlett, I pretty much am alone. Jaimie can only be so present, and Jill is not quite there yet in terms of best friend status. Scarlett didn't allow me to feel this way, even if I was physically on my own at the time. Now, no one is doing that. Sometimes my flat gets too cold at night, and the only thing I can do is find a blanket.

I haven't yet decided whether I like it or not.

I tap the ball forward, watching as it slowly rolls across the goal line, imagining it being saved by a non-existent keeper. A foot stops it from going any farther. Those are not football boots.

"How did you get in here?" I ask curiously, not needing to look up after her prideful laugh confirms her identity.

"I know this is mini-Holland, but in Spain, we say hello to someone before we interrogate them." Mapi flicks the ball up with the toe of her (Ingrid's?) shoes and catches it, situating it on her hip before walking towards me with a massive smile on her face. "How is camp going?"

"Answer my question first," I insist, voice whining high like a young child's. I'm feeling a bit petty today.

She shrugs. "I just walked with purpose. Ingrid and I had a debate over whether it works or not." I was there, though I doubt she knows that. They were both very invested in it, acting out different scenarios and switching languages every five seconds. Bagheera and I were sat very comfortably on their sofa, thoroughly entertained by the display.

"Your girlfriend is always right." She follows me to the bench where I put my things, sitting down and patting the space beside her. "Maps."

"Ingrid is annoyingly always right," she hums in agreement, ignoring the second thing I said. More importantly, ignoring the tone I said it in. I sit down beside her anyway. "I met your sister yesterday. Leila and I – remember, the one who plays for Man City – were in London for a night out, and she was at the same restaurant. Her and someone really interesting. That was unexpected." As I said, Jaimie is definitely not just here for me.

"Well, are you going to tell me who?" I'm not sure why it comes out so snappy, but it does and Mapi furrows her eyebrows.

"It wasn't Alexia, if you were worried." I wasn't. Jaimie dates footballers from time to time, but she usually asks me beforehand. If things got complicated between her and my teammate, professionalism could be forgotten or disregarded. I wouldn't be able to pass to someone who hurt her, and I don't think any of my teammates would want to piss me off by fucking with my sister. "And that is not what I was going to say, anyway. It is not important." Debatable. "Your sister told me that you have a free day after you play South Korea. Leila wants to meet you. I think you would like her."