The Penalty || Marc Andre Ter Stegen

Cold Kiss

I cry just a little when I think of letting go.  -Flo Rida

ADALINE'S P.O.V: 

I wake up, shivering, and look up. Where is Bastian? I fret and roll over, falling down. I swiftly get up, my light strawberry blonde hair all dirty and ruffled, and my clothes all rumpled. I don't care, I need to see Bastian. I dart through the corridor and dash down the stairs, and everyone has a grim expression.

My father dead, kicked out of the Champions, and Bastian leaving. Before I ask myself, could this get any worse? I think about it. Maybe we would get someone better later on. But Basti, oh Basti....

Thomas has dark circles under his eyes and a tired, irritated expression. This is probably too much for him, or for everyone else. I don't see my mother around, I guess she just wants some rest. As I barge into the front porch, all heads turn to me. Breathless, I see Bastian walk away with his things, a few guards around. I scream and dart towards him, tears streaming my face. And the cloudy weather and rain weren't helping. 

"Bastian!" I yell, reaching out for him. The German turns around, kind of startled. 

"Adaline!" He sighs, holding back tears. I jump-hug him and he hugs back tightly, never to let go. But I know he has to. 

He holds me tight and kisses my cold nose. Then out of nowhere, he meshes his lips into mine. I enjoy every second and as his lips part, I let go of his hand, caressing his strong face. Bastian gives me a last smile and a kiss on the hand. He disappears into the fog, along with the guards. I sniffle and trudge back home, my hands almost blue and I can feel my nose red. Great, now I might get hypothermia. 

Thomas and everyone look at me confused, their tired faces making them look like zombies. Thomas, the overprotective brother, takes my hand and hugs me, stroking my head as if I were some kind of cat.

"Tsk, tsk tsk. Adaline, Adi, Adi. You're too young for relationships...." He starts, in an amused tone. I'm glad he's gaining his humor. I wiggle free and growl at him.

"I'm only four years younger than you!" I say indignantly. The rest of the players chuckle. Before Thomas can reply a stupid comment, I walk away in a huff. Why? That, THAT, is the question of the day. I growl and sit on a chair in the foyer. The rest of the team get in, quiet. 

Out of nowhere, Mr. Guardiola comes out with a flash of happiness. We all look irritated at this sudden outburst, but it seems we've got news. No more bad news, I hope.

"Newsflash!" Mr. Guardiola beams, clapping his hands. Dante tosses him a reproachful stare, Arturo Vidal looks down and Arjen clasps his face, groaning lightly.

"The Euro 16 is coming. And we are in for qualifiers!" He said, raising his arms. Our eyes light up. 

"You serious?" Mario asks, dumbfounded.

"I cannot wait!" Manuel says encouragingly.

"What's going on?" Philipp groans drowsily. My eyes shine brightly as I leap up and let out a loud YES!

"Someone's excited." Robert mutters to David Alaba, who chuckles. I clench my teeth and sit back down.

"So I guess all our Germans have to get up. The rest can keep up with your teams." Mr. Guardiola says doubtfully. 

Thomas, Mario, Manuel, Philipp, Jerome, Joshua Kimmich (He's pretty hot by the way), Sebastian Rode, and the rest of the Germans get up, slapping their backs and cheering. I kind of stay there, but well, I am German... anyways I don't think I'll be included in the team. Thomas says I could be the cheerleader. Ha ha, very funny, Thomas. 

Then understanding strikes me like lightning. Bastian! He's also German, he'll train with us! My eyes shine brightly as I squeal like a Japanese schoolgirl. My eyes dance as I think that Marc will be there as well. Maybe we'll get a chance of getting to know each other.

"When will we be training?" I blurt out, all heads turning to me. "Too bad you won't." Thomas taunted, raising his eyebrow. I shoot him a nasty glare and look hopefully at Bayern's coach.

"Well, as it says on my schedule..." Mr. Guardiola says, checking his phone, then looking up.

"Yeah, seems like tomorrow we'll drive to the Deutscher Fussball-Bund Stadium in Frankfurt. So get rest Germans, I'll drive you there and when you get there, I'll hop off and go back to Spain. Joachim will be there, as well as the other Germans." He explains, clearing out details. 

"And Adaline can come watch, that's perfectly fine. Joachim has known her since she was a little girl." Manuel points out, looking at Thomas, who scoffs and tosses me a reproachful stare.

I keep thinking. So what do we do the rest of the day? Okay, to-do list:

-Pack things for Frankfurt.

-Say goodbye to mom.

-Keep Thomas out of the way.

Okay, that's pretty much it. But what about the non-Germans? Arjen gets up and wishes us luck, as well as the other teammates.  We give them hugs and as they leave, they pack their own things and walk to Mr. Guardiola, who says he'll drive them to the airport of Munich to their homelands.

As I say bye to everyone, I jerk back tears. Worst birthday, and probably weird things will soon happen.  However, Mr. Guardiola just says bye to the maids and tells them to speak to my mother about my dad. Probably condolences. I sigh and brush my hair out of my face and like the blink of an eye, Mr. Guardiola and the rest are gone.

I growl to myself and drop my head on the table. The Germans decide to sit next to me and why not, talk about soccer. I get up instantly and leave the boys, walking up the marble staircase to my room, and as I open the closet I find my old cleats. Very old first-edition Adizero, yet I feel like they were from yesterday. I smile fondly at them and pull out some nice clothes. As I pack them into a small bag, I notice glinting in the first rays of sunshine on my nightstand, the bracelet Bastian gave to me. I bite my lower lip and put it on, the cold metal caressing my pale wrist.

Okay, one thing done in the to-do list. I zip the bag closed and leave it on my bed. I open the door and walk towards my parents' room, where my mom rests on her bed, her eyes puffy and tissues all around her. There's a picture of my dad on her hands. Feeling a stab of pity, I lean down and kiss her forehead.

"I'll be back before you know it, Mutter. I'll take care of Thomas, I promise." I whisper tenderly, choking back the urge of crying.  I lean back and walk out, trotting down the stairs and placing my bag in the foyer. Okay, three things done. Wait, scratch that. Thomas is still a pain in the ass. 

"Thomas, get ready!" I call out like an impatient mom. I could hear his teammates hoot and say things like, "Go on Thomas, do as your mom says. You don't want to get grounded, do you?" That sounded like the mocking voice of Mario. After that little comment, laughter explodes in the dining room and I roll my eyes.

"We leave until tomorrow, Adaline. Why get ready just now?" Thomas's reproachful voice counters, making me slap my forehead. "Never mind, if you don't want to get ready, it's not my problem." I fume, stomping up the stairs to my room.

As I enter the bathroom, I almost faint from what I see in the mirror. Tangled strawberry blonde hair, dark circles under my eyes, and paleness, not to mention I'm still on my pajamas.

I growl and take a quick shower, dry my hair and brush it vintage style. I like dressing up like that, and I place a pin on my hair. Looks well enough. Next, I pick a beige turtleneck and a long, brown trench coat, equitation leggings and brown heeled boots. I must've looked pretty wintery, because when I get down, Thomas pretends to be suffocating. I stick out my tongue at him and open the door.

"I'm taking a stroll." I mutter. Thomas laughs.

"Careful, you might get eaten by wolves." He says, popping the "v". 

I roll my eyes and sigh, walking out. Scratch that last point in the list, Thomas IS a pain in the ass.