dumb blonde | pablo gavi

17

Step to the left, step to the right. Pablo jumped from foot to foot, warming up before the very first match of the playoffs of his first World Cup. The players of both national teams have already entered the field, not hiding their anticipation from the next ninety minutes. To be honest, the guy's head was not exactly what he needed.

It seemed like he had his mind clouding. While he was here on the field, he was hearing her laughter, so full, joyful. Sarah was sitting in the stands with him and her parents, still not paying attention to what was happening on the field. Probably, Pablo would have liked all this idyll if Nico Gonzalez hadn't been sitting next to the girl, also smiling radiantly.

In the ideal scenario, according to Gavira, Nico and Sarah after an unfortunate night at the club should not have crossed again. In general. Never in life. Maybe Pablo was shouting like a little selfish child who didn't want to share his friends. After all, Nico is his friend. His, not Sarah. First she took Fermin, then Ale, and now Nico? That's not how it should be. Pablo was trying to get back to the warm-up, but his eyes were still chained to the podium. Maybe it wasn't about Nico at all.

Maybe it was all about him sitting next to Sarah.

She was smiling at him. So sincerely, with such tenderness. Gavi scrolls through all the moments related to the girl in his head, but he can't remember such a smile in his address. Dissatisfied laughs, eye rolls, screams, tears, but not a smile. At least not like that. Boy feels like he's starting to get dizzy. Damn it all.

— Look, — Nico stretches his hand forward and shows the girl a small crowd in the centre of the field, where the players of the Spanish national team whispered, and laughs quietly. — probably, Busi is performing in front of them.

— Performing? — Sarah asks again. The word that the football player picked up, she didn't like it at all.

— Yeah, performing. He is crucised in front of them so that something remains in their heads before the match.

The girl moves slightly away from Nico, as if trying to protect herself. The guy's strange attitude for the upcoming match was involuntarily alarming, even a little scary. She didn't like the way he spoke about all this. The guy was already twenty years old, and he was still in the youth team. Maybe it was just a grudge against it. Anything can happen.

To be honest, Sarah was madly worried. It was the first match of the World Cup for her friends. For Alejandro, for Pedri, for Ferran, for the same Gavi. Light doubts still creeped into her heart, even though Colombia wasn't a real rival for Spain. No one knew how the next ninety minutes would develop for both teams, and Nico's galdege was a little distracting. Therefore, smiling as sweetly as possible in this situation, Sarah asked the guy to be silent. Literally ninety minutes. Until the match is over. Maybe it was rude, but the girl didn't care much now.

She was more concerned about Pablo, no matter how painful it was to admit it. She didn't let him out of sight for a second, until he was replaced in the second half. And when the guy scored a goal... oh, it should have been seen. Hernandez jumped up, happily bouncing on the spot and chanting along with the whole stadium.

Gavi! Gavi! Gavi!

It was so unusual for her. To be so sincerely happy for him, to shout his name at the top of her throat. To feel this warmth in the heart from one kind of his smile. It even seemed somehow wrong, but she didn't care. Gavi scored his first goal in the fucking world championship! Isn't that real happiness?

She was running to the field, pushing everyone in her path; Nico quietly followed her. Sarah was already there; Ale circled her in his arms, sticking his nose into her hair. Pedri, Ferran and Ansu ran nearby, also not fully realising what was happening. They kept running up to Nico, who had just appeared on the field, happily slapped him on the shoulder and immediately returned to their celebration. The last one in this company was Pablo; the guy slowly came closer, wiping his face with a T-shirt he was clutching in his hand. His red longsleeve was all wet and stuck to his body, so it didn't really help him. Once in the epicentre of events, Gavi looked back lostly. He tried to find at least someone he knew.