Bizirik Berriro (Alive Again)

Chapter 6

The next couple days I barely said a word to Nagore. I was still upset at her for everything with Gaizka, and she was still upset at me for practically calling her a tease. The only distraction I had was the Athletic match on Saturday evening, and when Iker Muniain broke through and scored a goal to win the game in the 92nd minute I felt vindicated, and the cheers could be heard throughout the city well into the night.

On Sunday morning I headed out for a walk. Because of the match the night before I didn't have to clock in that day and even though I could have easily stayed inside and watched movies all day --one look out the window at the slate gray skies and the rain in the air confirming it was November in the Basque Country making me wish I had-- I opted for some fresh air and a break from my house. It was on my way towards the Teatro Arriaga when I noticed a tall figure with a soaking wet coat and dark brown strands of hair stuck to his forehead, peeking out from under his hood, which attempted to hide his face yet failed. I pulled my umbrella further down so he didn't see me when I saw him sprint in my direction. He was the only one running on the slippery streets but he seemed to glide over the cement, which I simply attributed to the grooves in the baldosas lining the streets.

He finally caught up with me, and grabbed my forearm.

"Hola, Oihane," he said, lifting the arm holding the umbrella so he could look at me.

"Hola, Fernando," I replied.

"Where are you going?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I'm just walking."

"You aren't working?"

"I don't work after matchdays."

"Clause in your contract?" His eyes glittered as one side of his mouth creeped up his face in a lopsided grin.

"Kind of, yeah. I'm always working matches, and since they end late and I've almost always had a little too much to drink, it's easier if I just don't come in. It started soon after I started working there and was always coming in late the next day." He laughed.

"So where are you going?"

"Nowhere, what about you?"

"I actually just stopped by the restaurant to see if you were around, and your friend said you'd probably be at home."

"You're in the wrong place to be headed to my house from the restaurant. You don't even have to leave the Casco for that and you look like just came from the ayuntamiento." He laughed.

"I had to run some errands."

"Let me guess, you're best friends with the mayor and he wants publicity for the next election." It was his turn to shrug.

"Something like that."

"So you go to the restaurant...then city hall...then you try to find me at my house...which you don't even know where--"

"Oh, your friend told me."

"Of course she did." A small part of me was grateful.

"But yeah...I guess I got a little nervous." I let out an inaudible snort. We stood there awkwardly for minute, watching the rain fall across from the majestic Arriaga and in front of the Abando train station into the Nervión.

"You really not going anywhere?" he asked.

"No, not really. I just wanted to get out."

"In the rain?"

"I like the rain. It's kind of comforting," I admitted. It wasn't really why I'd chosen to feel rain soaking through the soles of my shoes, but it worked for the time being.