You are my mums (a Lucy Bronze fanfic) - Book 2

Chapter 21 - Lipgloss

Rosie's POV:

My legs moved at a pace quicker than my mind as I suddenly found myself sprinting along the path towards the car park. The bags I was carrying were bouncing off the side of my body painfully and I was certain I would be laiden with bruises very soon. However, I was only thankful they weren't slowing my speed. To anyone onlooking, I must have looked like an idiot. That didn't stop me though as I put all my remaining energy into approaching my teammates as quickly as possible.

Cascading my bags to the carpark floor carelessly, I shouted towards the group of women discussing something unimportant, "I'm going to Estonia!". Everyone immediately began to frown and act very confused. Mapi responded with a wide smile, despite not knowing what was going on, "I'm coming with you!". Alexia, however, stood with her arms crossed against her chest, "What are you talking about?". Looking to the side, I saw Vicky hopping from foot to foot - clearly knowing what I meant by my sudden statement of leaving the country. Unable to hide my emotions, a huge grin spread across my face, "I've been called up for the under-17 Euros". 

Everyone appeared shocked, just like me. After all, I had never ever been chosen to attend an England camp and now suddenly i'm taking part in the Euros with them. I couldn't help but think about how much of a risk they were taking. I knew no one, they didn't know me. All they had to go on was the fact I play for Barcelona and my mum is Lucy Bronze.

After all of the congratulations were out of the way, Alexia organised everyone into the separate cars we were taking to the beach. There were just over 20 of us which meant that 5 cars needed to be driven to accomodate our large group. If the whole team were there, it would be even more hectic. Sandra was driving the car I was in and somehow I had managed to squeeze my way into the passenger seat. Normally, I would be pushed to the back due to being the youngest. I think people were jonly being nice to me because I had just been called up for my national team.

 Irene called from the back, "When do you go then?". I opened my phone and began to read out the email I had received, "England's first group stage game is against Poland on the 14th May 2023. However, the team will be travelling to Estonia on the 10th May from Heathrow Airport. This follows a weeks training beginning 3rd May 2023. We expect all players to be at St George's Park in the correct attire no later than 4pm 2nd May 2023". Mapi groaned from the backseat, "That's too much information for my brain to cope with". She was right, there were a lot of things I needed to slowly make my way through and understand completely. Frido asked, "Do you know which other countries are taking part?". Shaking my head, I did a quick search on google and told her, "Estonia, Poland, Germany, Switzerland, France, Spain and Sweden". Simultaneously, Frido and Mapi began to gush about how their respective country would smash England. I see how it is, they're supportive of me playing for England until it includes their country. Fair enough. 

As we drew nearer to the beach, I send a quick text to the family group chat and reposted England's squad list post on Instagram. Turning my phone off, I breathed a sigh of relief. I wouldn't have to deal with the whirlwind of texts and supportive messages until later. For now, I could enjoy an afternoon at the beach with my team and Georgia. 

Our collection of cars parked up and we all piled out. Some had small bags only filled with the essentials, others had colossal, almost bursting ones with every item you could need at the beach. I simply had nothing. I was wearing my bikini under my clothes and had my phone with Apple Pay on in case I needed to buy anything. My simplicity was't understood by those who treated a visit to the beach as a big event. 

Barcelona beach lay before us while we strolled down the windy pavement which would eventually take us to the golden sand. Of course, Mapi ran ahead while desperately trying to quickly remove her clothes. Before we had even reached the soft sand, she was splashing about in the salty, fresh water.