Chapter Four

~Xavi~

Xavi smiled as he looked at the newest contact in his cell phone. Wedged right in between Agustí and Andrés was Aina Cruz.
He had already memorized the digits of her cell phone number,
rethinking them again and again.

She’d given it to him when he’d shyly asked, and in turn taken his as well. She’d been very reluctant; worried for reasons he couldn’t comprehend, but at last agreed. When she gave him her phone to punch his number in, a glance at her contacts list showed many names that weren’t Spanish, further revealing she was from the States. He also noticed most were females, which made him curious yet secretively happy.

He was about to land at the airport with the national team, excited to play in one of the first national games in a good while.

He’d finally caught up with some of his closest friends, such as Iker, that didn’t play on the Barcelona squad. But he found himself constantly thinking about Aina.

He was anxious to call though, constantly fearing that she’d only given him her number out of pity or pressure.

Finally, when he reached the hotel, he gathered up the confidence to call her as Andrés took his shower, as they were sharing a room together. It was typical to do so. Across the hall were Piqué and Fàbregas, and to their left were Sergio Ramos and Xabi Alonso. They were to play Austria, and they had just arrived in Vienna.

The line rang several times before he heard it picked up. “Hello?” she asked in English, and when he didn’t answer, tried again in Spanish.

“Hey, it’s Xavi. Is this a bad time?” he asked.

“Oh, no – not at all…I thought you were a student, since normally they’re the only ones who call with this type of number. Sorry about that…I only converse with them in English,” she rattled off, switching with ease to Catalan. He was still impressed that she was fluent in the language despite being from the United States.

Not many Americans even knew the language existed; much less was spoken in Spain. Most thought Spanish was the only language, and were equally oblivious to the other minority languages, such as Basque.

“That’s good. How are you and Andreu doing?” he questioned next. “We’re doing well. He’s asleep right now, actually. He was exhausted after going on a play date with a friend from school,” she answered lightly.

“And what about you…what are you up to?” he asked. “I’m grading some essays that I had assigned, most of which are
pretty good. After that I was going to watch whatever match is on.” He smiled at her answer. “You’re going to watch my game, right?”

She laughed lightly, “Of course!”

He heard some movement, and the sound of paper from her end, and smiled softly. “Sorry about that…some of these guys don’t understand the use of staplers…apparently,” she murmured.

He heard the door to the bathroom open, realizing he hadn’t even heard the shower cut off.

Andrés looked at him curiously, making him realize he was still smiling rather conspicuously. “I almost forgot to ask…will you come to the next home game?” he asked, ignoring the curious look on his fellow midfielder’s face. “Of course!” she agreed with the excitement evident in her voice. “Great! I’ll send the tickets your way,” he smiled even wider. “You should probably rest…time zones and all,” she said at length. He chuckled, “You’re right. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, alright?” “I’ll be waiting for your call,” she agreed.

After they said their goodbyes and hung up, Andrés was there.

“Who is she, and why haven’t you told me about her?” he asked.
“Who said it was a she?” Xavi asked. The midfielder merely arched a brow. “Is it that obvious?” he questioned. Andrés laughed and nodded, sitting down on the adjacent bed. He let out a frustrated groan, “Great, I’m so obvious…but half the time I can’t even tell what she’s thinking. She’s very guarded…”

His fellow Spaniard sighed, and patted his hand, “Don’t overthink it. Just trust in your feelings for you. You’ve always had good discernment!”

Xavi smiled at him, “Thanks.” “So, tell me about her…” Andrés pushed. “I met her at the park. She was there with her little brother. She teaches English here, and is American. However, she’s fluent in both Spanish and Catalan. She doesn’t eat red meat, and likes to cook. She’s very kind and caring, and slightly shy, depending on the situation. She’s beautiful, Andrés, very beautiful…”

“You’re completely enamored,” his friend said. “Yes. Yes I am. But I just want to know what she’s thinking sometimes.”

“Why?” “She’s very open some moments, and reserved the next. She also seems to carry around this unspoken stress all the time and I just want to take it away. I also just wonder if she loves me like I do her…because she’s very shy to accept my gifts.”

“I’m sure she loves you, Xavi. She would be stupid not to.” “She’s not stupid.” “Exactly…”

~Luciana~

Her vow not to think about it, and by it she meant him, was failing. It had been a matter of days and her resolve was disappearing by the second. She didn't want to question why he hadn't sought after her more. Maybe it was just because she got hit in the head with a stray ball, and he felt bad?

But she could have sworn that there was something more between them - there had been a spark, she'd sworn.

But perhaps she was wrong. It wouldn't be the first time she misread someone's intentions.

She shook her head, trying to focus instead on the manga volume sitting on her lap. But once again she zoned out as she tried to read about Gaara defeating....dammit! Once again that damned footballer was in her mind.

She tossed the novel over her shoulder, and jumped up. Pocketing her keys, she was out the door.

She needed to see him again.

'Ciutat Esportiva, here I come,' she thought, heading toward the nearest metro station that was two blocks away. If nothing else, it was for the sake of her sanity.

~Dani~

The training ground stands were filled as another open practice had been announced. He was being extra careful not to launch any more balls towards innocent bystanders in the audience, lest the next one decide to sue instead of making jokes about it, and coming to see a game.

Since that day, that accidental kick, he had been unable to stop thinking about the beautiful woman with such unusual and captivating eyes. He wanted to know more about her, needed to see her again.

Yet he'd been too nervous to ask for any way to contact her, and once he'd gotten her ticket, they hadn't spoken since.

He kicked the ball back to Lionel Messi, the most humble player he'd ever met. The forward received it with ease, then passed it to the next player, Keita, who received it with ease as well.

As practice came to an end, he looked over at the stands, and his eyes widened in recognition of a familiar face. He broke free from the group heading toward the locker room, and vaulted once again over the fence, and into the stands. Murmurs broke out as he pushed through the fans, scribbling autographs blindly.

At last he reached her, smiling softly at the wide eyed look she was giving him.

"Hey," he greeted, standing in front of her awkwardly. "Uh, hi...?" she returned, unsure. "So did you enjoy the game? I see your head looks fine, by the way," he continued nervously. "Yeah, I told you I'd be fine, and the game was great," she answered, still looking confused.

"Look, I was wondering if you'd like to go out for lunch after I change and freshen up," he said, finally forcing it out.

She nodded, averting her gaze. "Great! I'll meet you here in fifteen minutes!" he grinning, jogging out of the stands, across the field, and back into the changing room. Whistles followed him as he headed to his locker, but he took them in proudly.

"Tease away, boys. I got a date with a gorgeous woman today!" he announced.

~Aina~

When she returned from work, she expected to find Xavi with more flowers, but instead found the man himself leaning against the door of her apartment. She smiled shyly as Andreu waved with unabashed innocence. She was jealous of the child, in that way.

He had two tickets in his hand, as well as a bag. "I wanted to see you," he said suddenly as she fumbled for her keys.

She looked up at him in surprise, but saw no lie in his eyes, only nervousness. She smiled, "I wanted to see you as well." He grinned broadly at her confession. "May I come in?" he asked then, eyeing the keys she'd just produced from her purse. "Of course," she answered, opening the door. Andreu charged in, setting down his backpack, and rushing into his room.

He returned in his Puyol kit, grinning broadly at the footballer. Xavi grinned, and picked him up.

Aina quickly sorted through her mail, before joining them in the living room part of the apartment. She sat on the couch as Xavi tickled the little boy, who shrieked happily, squirming in the grown man's arms. Both wore boyish grins.

Aye Dios, could the man be any more perfect?

He seemed to remember that she was there, and glanced over her, questioning if he was going to far. But he was met with an awed and grateful smile, and looked rather embarrassed. She just smiled wider. His humility seemed to show at the most random of times, then being one of them.

"Would you like dinner?" he asked, scooping Andreu up, and putting him on his shoulders.

"That sounds great," she agreed.

"Since I chose last time, it's your turn," he grinned. She glanced up at Andreu, "Do you want to go see Catarina?" He nodded eagerly. Xavi glanced at her curiously as she grabbed her keys off the counter, and then her purse.

Catarina owned a little Italian place, because despite being Catalan through and through, she'd remarried an Italian man from Sicily, and together they had opened a restaurant.

Xavi looked around curiously as they sat themselves in a booth. Andreu elected to sit next to Aina, constantly whispering into her ear, making the woman laugh, and sometimes blush.

"Aina? Ha estat massa temps!" a woman greeted cheerfully, kissing the other female on both cheeks.

"I know, I apologize. Caterina, this is Xavi. Xavi, this is Caterina, the first friend I made here in Barcelona," she said, introducing the pair. The older woman sent her a look, implications obvious, causing a blush to reappear over her features.

"It's nice to meet you," Xavi said kindly, offering his hand. As the two chatted some, Aina was impressed how easily he conversed with anyone, but at the same time, kept the semblance of privacy. He never really revealed if they were in a relationship, but was very open with her in all other means.

He smiled at her Caterina left with their orders, and she was helpless to return it.

Dinner was wonderful, and he walked the pair back to the apartment, carrying Andreu, who was nodding off. He ended up tucking the little boy into bed, reading him a story and everything.

She stood in the door, watching him interact with her brother. He was so gentle and patient, and seemed to dote on the child.

Once Andreu had fallen asleep, they crept out of the room, and stood in a comfortable silence in the living room. "Thank you for dinner," she said at last. He grinned, "It was my pleasure. Caterina was very nice." She sighed happily, seriously wondering if he was even real.

"Thank you for spending time with Andreu too. I worry that I can't provide enough for him at times..." she admitted softly.

"I know he is not your son, but you are a wonderful mother," he murmured.

She looked at him, tears springing to her eyes. He reached out, his hand cradling her cheek. His thumb stroked away the first tear as it rolled down her cheek slowly. He smiled softly, "May I kiss you?"

She nodded, once again helpless against him.

As he pulled away, he leaned down to her ear, "Ser la meva xicota."

She blushed, and nodded mutely. But she couldn't be happier.