Best Mistake ︱Pedri González

69

Luciana's POV

I arrived at the track, my spikes in hand, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. Juan was already there, waiting for me, stopwatch ready. His calm, reassuring smile was something I needed to see.

"Four more days," he said as soon as I walked over to him. "You're making great progress, but remember, the qualifying rounds are tough. It's not the championship yet, but the competition is still fierce. Racing against the best Spanish sprinters is no joke."

I nodded, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension. "I know. I'm ready for it, though."

"Good," Juan said, clapping his hands together. "Let's start with your warm-up, then work on pacing and endurance for both the 100 and 200 meters. We've got to make sure you're hitting those marks consistently."

I headed over to the starting line and began my warm-up laps, feeling the familiar rhythm of my body loosening up. My mind was focused entirely on the track, the countdown to the qualifying rounds playing in my head. Four more days. That was nothing.

After an hour of block starts and racing drills, Juan timed me, and I tried to push harder with each sprint. He gave me feedback on my form and reminded me to stay relaxed when I hit top speed.

"You're improving, Luciana," he said, looking at his stopwatch. "Just remember to keep that form in check. You lose a little speed at the end because you tense up. Relax, let the sprint flow through you."

I nodded, panting slightly but determined. "Got it. I'll work on that."

After training, I felt the familiar burn in my legs, but it was the good kind—the kind that told me I was getting closer to where I needed to be. I quickly changed out of my training gear and headed to meet Ferran.

I found Ferran at a café near the training grounds, already seated with his usual smug grin. "So, track star, how's it going?" he asked as I sat down across from him.

"Good. Exhausting, but good," I said, grabbing the iced tea he'd ordered for me. "Four more days before the qualifying rounds. Juan's pushing me hard, but I need it."

Ferran nodded, a hint of pride in his eyes. "You've got this. You've always been crazy competitive. If anyone can get through those qualifiers, it's you."

I smiled. "Thanks. What about you? How's football?"

Ferran launched into an update about his training with Barça, the upcoming matches, and how the boys were handling everything. We talked about tactics, the team dynamics, and how Pedri was doing after all the chaos with Dante. It felt good to just talk normally with Ferran, like the old days when things weren't so complicated.

"You know, you should come to a match soon," he said, his tone light but serious. "Get your mind off all the track stuff for a bit."

"Maybe," I replied, smiling. "But first, I've got to focus on qualifying. Once that's done, I'll think about it."

We finished our drinks, and Ferran drove me over to Mikky's house, where Valeria was also hanging out. As I got out of the car, Ferran gave me a quick hug. "Good luck, Lu. You're going to crush it."

"Thanks, Ferran. I'll see you later."

Inside Mikky's house, I was greeted by Valeria and Mikky, who were lounging on the couch, laughing over something on Mikky's phone.

"Hey, superstar!" Valeria grinned, patting the seat next to her. "How was training?"

"Exhausting," I said, collapsing onto the couch between them. "But good. Juan says I'm making progress, and I'm racing again in four days."