It's difficult to find the way everything fits into place once it's broken, even if a surgeon gives you a pretty significant first push. Alexia's recovery is progressing with hope. Her knee is responding well to rehabilitation, but she doesn't feel...
Remember that even though this story is written in English, Mía and Alexia talk in Spanish. And Mía, particularly, doesn't have a very good level in english. Maybe this causes some problems to her...
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The two tiles I had been pacing on for the last ten minutes must have been starting to lose their polish. People, laden with suitcases and bags, looked at me, trying to comprehend the hysteria, wondering if the words I was using were those of a deranged Catalan or some kind of Arabic.
"Turn on the damn phone already, you disgusting piece of crap!" I shouted at the screen, which displayed another call directed to voicemail. "I'm going to kill her. She's dead, more than dead."
I cursed her in a thousand different ways, never stopping my steps on the same two tiles, unable to stay still. I was on the verge of losing my mind. She hadn't come to London to sunbathe, that was for sure. Alexia didn't waste time; she wouldn't have traveled today if she could do it tomorrow.
Coming to my rescue and preventing me from tearing out all my hair, Irene urgently took me by the shoulders and shook me, gaining my full attention.
"There's one! There's one!" she exclaimed, pointing at one of the open ticket booths.
I widened my eyes and ran with my friend to it. The woman looked up from her computer and offered a friendly smile. Without waiting for either of us to speak, she began to explain.
"There's a flight. The gate closes in about fifteen minutes. If you hurry, you should be able to make it."
"Really?!"
"Yes! Hurry up. Boarding is at gate K58." She handed me the ticket, and I grabbed it just before rushing to get ahead of a couple of ladies to enter security control.
Alexia's POV
I kept looking back every few seconds, as if expecting some catastrophe to stop me. Josep knew it, and he also knew the reasons why I wouldn't back down, despite going against everything I wanted for myself, which is why he took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as they loaded our luggage.
I hadn't brought much, just a small carry-on bag with a couple of changes of clothes. I didn't plan to stay here any longer than necessary. I'd get tired of it in the next season. I'd sign and leave.
"We'll have to talk to Joan once the pre-contract is signed, although he probably already suspects," Josep leaned against the car seat sent by the english club.
I sighed at his words. "I know." I rubbed my temples with my fingertips. "It's such a surreal situation that I feel like I won't be able to do it." I looked into my agent's eyes, which now regarded me with sympathy. "How do you tell someone who is convinced it's the club of your life? How do you disappoint everyone like that?"
