sweet lover » f.torres

dos

July 6, 1991

After she had made her bed, Catalina made sure to feed her cat, check that the water taps were closed, and crossed another day on her calendar before she could run to Fernando's backyard.

"Fernando," she shouted happily as she saw him trying to nutmeg his older brother Israel. Looking up for a brief second, he grinned cheekily at her, and resumed to humiliate his brother.

Groaning at the feat, Israel left Fernando to hurry and grab a snack for himself, leaving the two seven year-olds together.

"Buenas tardes, Catalina," the freckled boy smiled, kicking the ball to her feet.

Picking it up while he bent down to tie his shoelaces, she remembered that today Fernando was supposed to have tried out for another team.

"How was it?" she asked, "Did you get the goalkeeper position easily?"

He looked up though his dark eyelashes, an adorable smile almost splitting his face into two, "I didn't try out for goalkeeper," he giggled.

She stared back in confusion, not knowing where the conversation was heading.

"I am now a regular striker for the team Mario's Holland," he threw his hands up in the air excitedly.

"Oh!" she laughed, flinging her small body around Fernando's tall and lanky figure.

He chuckled at her happiness, and let her go soon after, "It's actually an indoor team, and not an outdoor one."

"You mean you're going to play inside a building, and not on a field?" she tried to understand and confirm her thoughts.

"Si, that's true."

She was undeniably proud of him, for he had done more than some adults could achieve.

"You'll be brilliant, I know it," she smiled up at him brightly, holding her best friend's hand as she walked into his spacious house.

"Let's build a Lego house," she suggested, seeing the look on his face that always told her that he was racking his brain for ideas on what to do.

He nodded eagerly, running upstairs to his room, Catalina not far behind. Grabbing his Lego boxes from underneath his bed while she set down the football beside his bedside table, he settled down on the carpet, patting the space next to him for her to sit down on.

As she sat crisscross applesauce, she looked up to see that his blonde hair was getting in the way of unwrapping the package.

"Here," she slowly took it, patting his back softly as he thanked her.

The contents spilling on the floor, the joyful little kids started humming a Spanish lullaby both their parents happened to sing to them, that while starting to build their dream house.

They didn't speak a word, letting their imagination take over, only asking "Should there be a window here?" and replying with a "Yes, Catalina," to break the silence.

"Are you happier as a striker?" Catalina asked thoughtfully, hoping that no one had forced him into anything.

"Sí," he nodded, a smile embracing his already handsome features, "I am much happier. I don't think I would've ever been satisfied as a goalie."

"I'm happy if you're happy," she grinned childishly.

"Gracias," he side-hugged her, soon resuming their house building dreams.

🌸🌸🌸