Never Leave Again

introductions

"Who was that?" Marta asks excitedly as we walk back to our building. She ended up eating behind the bar with the staff who had ordered some food in. We both got our dinners for free, which she crassly deems a 'successful night'. "You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend."

"I don't. She's my new teammate."

"Is that like a football thing? Does everyone greet their teammates by shoving their tongues down each other's throats?" A cobble on the pavement is loose, and I stumble, trying to prevent myself from falling flat on my face by grappling onto her jacket. She finds herself far too funny, tripping over as I pull her down. "Alright, Tali, I'm sorry," she gasps, still giggling as we end up in a pile on the floor.

After getting a few looks from people walking by, we get up, brushing ourselves off. Still, Marta wants to know about how my date went (though I have to suffer through her recount of how she has secured herself free drinks whenever that bartender is working). "It's probably nothing," I explain once she understands how we know each other but don't really at the same time. "I am going to see her tomorrow, and I'll tell you if it was more than dinner and a k–"

"Make-out."

"We did not make out!" I protest, feeling my cheeks heat up. Did people see?

"The whole plaza was given a show. 'My goodness, these kids just can't keep it in their pants'." Her imitation of an old man is too funny to stay annoyed, and we make it to our building breathless from laughing so hard.

If tomorrow is going to be bad, at least this evening was fun.

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I get picked up by María, who drives me to the Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper while blasting English drill music. She says it is an important part of their culture, as taught by the two English girls she dealt with before me. I've heard it before, but it's not the kind of thing I would listen to at eight in the morning. A positive is that I understand a bit, making me believe more in my linguistic abilities than I had before.

We arrive at the training ground at what seems to be the time everyone else is coming, because there is a little queue at the gate and my new teammates are everywhere. I go over today's schedule in my head. Today I need to get fitness testing done, meet with the team doctor, and possibly attend the last few minutes of the main training session to get a feel of what it's like. And, my own personal plan, see Clàudia again and talk about last night. It was too good to forget, and I am excited to see her.

Jonatan Giráldez, the head coach, greets me as I get out of the car, waiting with the media team outside the entrance of the building. The camera crew are not in my face, so I assume it's not for an interview but rather coverage of a new player. However, the huddle of people does garner the attention of a few nosy players, who are instantly waved off by their manager and called for by someone already on the pitch.

"Bon dia, Natalia. We are very excited to have you here." As per usual in formal situations, he kisses my cheeks; left first, and then right. I smile, happy to be received like I'm actually joining the club. It's nice. "There is nothing to be nervous about."

Do I look nervous?

A woman emerges from the huddle, standing to the side of Jonatan with an unreadable expression. It morphs into something more welcoming in the split second it takes for her to remember herself. Alexia Putellas has an incredibly intimidating presence.

"Natalia, meet Alexia Putellas, our club captain. She is here for anything you need."

And, as though the woman earlier had been a costume, Alexia sheds her harsh exterior, revealing someone warmer. Her smile is genuine and her eyes are kind enough for me to wonder what she did to Fleur de Voss to make her hate her. "Yes, anything. And don't worry. We, at the club, pride ourselves on our success. I've seen you play. Some of us have to actively try to score golazos. You make it look easy."