Songs For Us [English Version]

Thirteen. Good luck.

The sun entered through the window as Dalia Rodriguez's pen hit rhythmically the fabric of the pair of skinny jeans she was wearing.

A or C? Inside that classroom that had to be her only worry... but it wasn't. The horrible training session she had the day before was still plaguing her mind.

"How was it, nerdy?" Gilian asked her by the phone thirty minutes later. Dalia now was walking hurriedly through her faculty's hallways, ready to run if her transport menaced with leaving without her. She had time, but it was never certain, some drivers were merciless.

"No idea, Gil. Phonetics are not my thing. 'Is this word pronounciated with a ainnddjad sound or with blurhsgdh sound, students?'" she imitated her Communication I professor's favorite words. "Ugh, I think memorizing the whole dictionary with every word's respective phonetic sound seems more possible for me"

"Leah..." he sighed. "Stop presuming that bookworm brain of yours."

"Whatever. Are you at the Club?"

Gilian made an annoyed sound, meaning he was.

"Unfortunately" he replied anyway. Meanwhile, Dalia got in the bus last minute.

"Can you ask Irene to spare me for half an hour? I forgot my training bag when I left home this morning, and I don't think my skinny jeans can resist Irene's hardcore training."

Gilian groaned.

"Please?"

"Dalia!" he growled. "You're always like this!"

She was always in a rush, so that kind of things happened all the time. Specially when she was stressed trying to keep up with her university's courses. She ran to her house, opened the door sprinting all the way to her room, for a tornado to cross the place. Minutes later, said tornado was stopped by her mother.

"Dalen'ka? What are you...?" Florence then saw the red bag her daughter was holding and shook her head. "Would you please come home early? I wanna talk."

The Grand Prix Final was across the corner, and with the mid-terms already there, the training sessions usually ended pretty late.

"B-" But her mother's look shut down any objections. "Fine, mom."

Irene's gonna clean the ice with my dead body.

[...]

"One more time!" The coach repeated for the millionth time.

She sped-up, focusing in the next jump. Triple Flip -her least favorite. Three rotations and a decent landing later, coach yelled a "Not enough!" making her growl in exhaustion. And just like she had imagined, her legs were shaking uncontrollably after one of Irene Zhdanov's infamous deathly sessions.

"It's not funny, Gilian" she hissed when her best friend laughed at her slight limping. "That last fall really hurt"

" 'No, Leah. You haven't switch to swimming. No taking a dive in here' " Gilian imitated Valentina Matos between laughs. Dalia stuck her tongue out.

Her friend always walked her home in that kind of days, because he'd rather not leave an exhausted athlete alone in the city -much less if it was a clumsy one like her, he said- and she complained about it at first, but it ended up becoming an habit.

"So, you're coming with me to the Final" She smiled.

Gilian shrugged, but a smile crept into his lips.

"It seems so"

~

"Dalen'ka... don't you think that... you should focus more in your major?"