CHAPTER 12

“So High School” – Taylor Swift

I DON’T KNOW WHY IT didn’t occur to me that we’d be taking a flight to Madrid for the football match, given how it’s a six-hour drive. It’s probably since I’ve been a little caught off guard with the way I feel while I’m around Luca to say the least.

The way things ended last night doesn’t slip my mind as I’m getting ready, though.

The conversation started out pretty well, which is why when I got back to my room, I tried to pinpoint the moment where it all went wrong.

To be honest, I still sort of am.

But I’m not about to ruin the first and maybe only football match that I’ll be attending at this scale. And in Madrid of all places.

Of course I run into the one person who I don’t want to see as I’m making my way to the lobby. Although I can’t avoid Luca for too long since he’s coming with us, unfortunately .

The last thing I want to show is that I’m hurt. And to give him any satisfaction for how his words affected me. So I’m going to just act indifferent .

While the weather is nice and warm, the air between us feels chilly. A layer of apprehension is also on his face that I haven’t seen before as he greets me, “Hey.”

“Hey,” I reply casually as we ride the elevator down to the lobby together.

This much silence would usually kill me. But I don’t feel the need to say anything beyond this.

I guess he does as he sighs before looking over at me. “Jasmine, I’m sorry for what I said.”

I hate hearing him say my name because of how much I’ve grown to love it in this short amount of time, but all I do is briefly glance back at him and shrug. “No need to be sorry. I’m not even mad. You just reminded me what I already know.”

He looks like he doesn’t believe a word I just said, considering everything he knows about me, most likely also sensing that I’m unusually calm. Luca knows talking is my weakness. Come to think of it, he knows too many of my weaknesses. Which is exactly why this happened in the first place. Since he already showed me that he has no problem using them against me when he finds it convenient for him.

“Still, I shouldn’t have said that to you,” he replies. “It was a terrible thing to say.”

I raise a brow at him. “If it was so terrible, you wouldn’t have said it. And by the way, if I didn’t already tell you, you’re right about what you said.”

“No I wasn’t right,” he says, now frustrated.

While he sounds genuine, I no longer care to hear him out .

“Can we not do this? Today’s supposed to be fun. I told you I’m not mad,” I say with a smile, even though I’m clenching down on my teeth.

I can tell he’s trying not to glare at me, so instead he just looks away, takes a deep breath, and doesn’t continue.

_________

Avoiding Luca isn’t too difficult on our way to the game since Enrique sits in the middle of us on the plane.

As soon as we reach The Santiago Bernabéu Stadium in Madrid, my entire body fills with adrenaline. Having watched football matches only through my television screen previously, this is on a whole other level.

The place is packed. And it’s so loud that you have to shout for the person next to you to even hear. I end up squished between Luca and Enrique, so close that, whether I like it or not, my body will likely be touching both of theirs for the entirety of the game. I remind myself it’s all part of the experience, and this particular experience is once in a lifetime .

“I can’t believe we’re here!” I squeal as soon as the kickoff happens, while we take our seats on Barcelona’s side.

I run my fingers through Enrique’s hair. “Thank you for bringing me here. This was beyond generous of you,” I say, before pulling him to me and kissing him, long enough where Luca will notice. I tell myself it’s because I want to kiss Enrique, but there’s a voice in the back of my head asking if I’d do the same if Luca wasn’t here.

In my mind, he should look jealous if he likes me. Instead, Luca looks like he couldn’t be more unbothered . Further confirming to me what I already know. He really doesn’t give a shit .

Once Barcelona scores their first goal, Enrique shouts as loud as he can, while Luca mutters under his breath, “Beginner’s luck.”

“That’s all it is,” I agree.

Luca gives me a warm smile, to which I immediately blink and look away before it has any weight over me.

Turning our attention back to the game, Real Madrid’s now almost near the opponent’s goal as Luca and my nerves only increase. I must be a mess, when I realize that I’m holding onto his arm, before abruptly letting it go, my heartbeat skyrocketing from the adrenaline of the game and now this brief contact.

When a Real Madrid player is just a few feet away from the goalpost, I yell, “Go, go, go!!” Luca and I wait in anticipation when the ball barely hits the corner, going straight into the net.

Without thought, our hands meet, but when our eyes lock, we both quickly drop our arms to our sides. I almost choke on my laughter, while my stomach does a cartwheel.

Then I glance at Enrique, and tease, “Well, what do you know? We’re making a comeback.”

“I think we are,” Luca adds playfully.

Before we have a chance to grow more confident, Barcelona is halfway toward Real Madrid’s goalpost again.

“No, no!” I shout.

Enrique yells, “Yes, C’mon!”

Even though the defense is doing an unbelievable job at blocking the Barcelona player, he bets his chances on aiming the ball from a farther distance and sure enough hits it right into the center of the net, breaking the tie and surprising the goalie along with the entire stadium.

Enrique grins at us both smugly. “Beginner’s what? I’m sorry? ”

With my hands cupping my face, I shake my head and remind, “It’s not over yet.”

“I don’t know. There’s only two minutes left,” Luca points out. “That’s like trying to score 20 points in basketball with the same amount of time.”

I glare at Luca with wide eyes. “ And it’s not over yet ,” he says as I smile back toward the field.

Happy that my words didn’t come back to bite me in the ass, a Real Madrid player steals the ball from a Barcelona player, tying the game yet again with just under thirty seconds left.

Enrique’s face now drops, and Luca glances at me a bit timidly and says, “I guess it really wasn’t over yet.”

To my dismay, my heart still flutters from his smile, but I try to casually redirect my attention back to the overtime that’s about to start.

When a player from Real Madrid heads the ball back into the field, I laugh to myself, remembering I never told them about my own football experience. “When I was in middle school,” I say loud enough for them both to hear me, “I was a forward on our football team.”

“ Oh no ,” Luca chimes in.

I chuckle. “I remember trying my best to show off so I tried to head the ball instead of kicking it since I really thought I had improved, but then I just ended up hitting the ball with my face instead.” I hear both of their laughter. “Long story short, my glasses broke right in half, and my mom taped a band-aid colored in navy Sharpie to hide it. And let’s just say it did a terrible job at hiding it.”

As their laughter subsides and Enrique focuses on the game again, I turn toward Luca and ask, “Wait. Did you ever watch The Suite Life of Zack & Cody ? ”

His brows furrow with a slight smile. “That was one of the only shows I could stand on Disney Channel growing up, so yes. Why?”

“I looked like the janitor on that show with those glasses,” I explain, smiling at how Luca always seems to pick up on my extremely random references.

He chortles. “Shit. I know exactly who you’re talking about. His name was Arwin, right?”

“Yes! Arwin! He was iconic.”

“Actually? Now that you mention it, you kind of remind me of him. Didn’t he break at least one thing each episode?” he says, while biting down on his bottom lip.

I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard. And yes, I absolutely see the similarities.

Luca then raises his brows and barely leans in, making me feel a bit dizzy when I feel a trace of his breath. “And he was obsessed with that one lady and kept making all these gestures to be with her. Also kind of like—”

I gesture with my hands and interrupt, “Okay. I get it. We’re practically twins .” I roll my eyes before looking away.

But my body’s itching to look back. Even though I know I shouldn’t.

I really shouldn’t have. Considering how my heartbeat skyrockets as our eyes meet again, while his laughter subsides. All the warmth and delight radiating from his cheeks almost pools into my stomach, making my legs all wobbly.

Before I have a chance to analyze this interaction, my attention is drawn to a little girl who appears to have dropped her bag on the stairs at the end of the aisle. The contents of her bag are scattered across the stairs, including a decent assortment of stationary .

No one, including her mother behind her, seems to have realized this though, too invested in the game.

She looks surprised. She looks embarrassed. But most of all, she looks lost .

I know the feeling.

It’s almost like a flashback from my childhood unfolding right before my eyes. Where no one seems to even notice that she’s struggling.

As I’m about to go and help her, I notice Luca’s already walking over toward her. Quickly catching up to him, I gently tap his shoulder, and his eyes give away that he knows that I want to help her.

When I reach the stairs, I quickly reassure, “It’s okay.” The young girl’s expression relaxes slightly, while I pick up all her items and place them inside the bag. My understanding smile is met with her shy one as I hand her bag back to her. A bag filled with things that most likely mean the world to her. Maybe that’s why my eyes sting a little. It’s as if I’m looking through the eyes of a younger me.

Luca’s smile when I return back is so vulnerable that I could burst into tears, and oddly not at all from sadness. “That was really nice of you,” he says so sincerely that I almost need to look away.

“I know the feeling of getting lost in a crowd like this,” I say, my voice shaky. “It can feel daunting.”

He nods with a familiar kind of warmth, that for a second I’m glad that the game distracts us again, wanting to talk to him about so many things including this moment, but not knowing where any of this is going. The butterflies unfortunately come running back when Real Madrid scores another goal as Luca and I go in for a hug this time.

It’s nice to have an excuse to hug him again. But remembering what happened after the last time, we both pull away, with our smiles being awkward at best. I turn my attention toward Enrique, and then jump when I realize he’s glancing over at us.

Although he’s smiling, there’s something else hidden behind his lips. Almost a trace of suspicion. Yet it’s too subtle for me to question it.

When the final score reads 3-2 Real Madrid, Luca and I try our best not to celebrate too much, given how we’re sitting on the opponent’s side, and don’t particularly feel the need to be ambushed in a sports quarrel on this sunny afternoon.

_________

After going a bit overboard at the Real Madrid gift shop on our way out, Luca, Enrique, and I walk toward the stadium’s entrance, when Enrique tells us, “I have to use the restroom. I’ll meet you guys out front.”

Avoiding Luca was part of the original plan. Spending more time with him alone, though just minutes, was not .

Before my mind wanders, Luca’s voice hums, “I can’t believe how much shit you bought.”

“You know…when in Rome,” I say with a facetious grin, “when in Spain .”

He snorts. “Right.”

“No seriously,” I add, eyes lighting up, “this was unreal. I’ve never been to a soccer game quite like this in the US.”

“Yeah, they are pretty amazing,” he agrees. “But there’s a lot there that we don’t have here.”

Growing curious, I ask, “How was it like moving back?”

“It was nice,” he says. “I didn’t really remember living in Spain since I was so little when we first left, but leaving the US was a little bittersweet for me. It wasn’t easy being far away from almost all my friends overnight, but I was lucky to meet a lot of great people here.”

A trace of sadness stings my chest, at the thought of him being lonely like that, but it’s quickly replaced by a smile, knowing he found good company, seeing firsthand how much people enjoy being around him. How much I also do. The smile turns bittersweet though, when I remember last night.

Despite the conflicting feelings, I still express to him, “I’m happy you met a good group of friends here. That’s not an easy thing to do. Although you make it look pretty easy. You have like 2,000 friends, right?” I add, cocking a brow at him.

He nods. “Yeah. Just drop the last three zeros and you guessed it perfectly.” As I laugh, he adds, “And no, it might look that way. But I actually have a small group of friends. I much prefer a few quality friends over a bunch who forget the important things…like my favorite color.” He bites back his smile.

I remind myself that I am mad at him. Though, it’s really hard to continue to stay mad. “So do I,” I say, while my grin tries to peek through.

Then Luca offers, “Need some help?”

Even though he was just speaking, his smooth voice startles my body, forgetting how my hands are still full with the generous bags of sports apparel I just bought. I look at him bemused, and say, “Why are you asking? Are you trying to take away my Real Madrid hat?” I give a knowing smirk. “Or are you after my Real Madrid jersey?”

Not a second later, I almost tumble over my foot, when Luca holds my arm as we approach a few stairs. “Or…I’d rather not have to carry you out of here with a broken ankle,” he says.

As if the picture he just painted of him carrying me isn’t fogging up my mind, the tight grip of his hand over my shoulder, for a moment, makes me almost drop every single one of the bags. Walking around aimlessly now, I notice Luca looks down at my feet. “Your shoelace,” he says. “I got it.”

Before I have a chance to process that my shoe is untied and just hand him all the bags the way he first offered, his body disappears from my line of sight, my stomach tightening when I peer down at the angle. Him kneeling in front of me, his fingers tucked between my shoelaces, working the fabric as if they’re ribbons of silk. My eyes try their best not to roll back at how of all things, this has to be turning me on like this.

It’s just, that wasn’t quite how I pictured a guy being down on his knees for me for the first time would look like. Feeling just as flustered with the lava about to erupt in my stomach.

“Thanks,” I murmur, the angle of him rising up looking even more sensual than the bend of his knee.

Luca nods, giving me a small smile.

Before his eyes have a chance to catch mine, Enrique’s back. And my brain reminds me I’m still hurt by Luca’s previous words, telling myself to not get distracted by his current words. Or his charm.

My plan doesn’t fend quite well during the flight back, my heart quite literally jumping out of my chest when I wake up on Luca’s shoulder, while he’s still asleep. Luckily, Enrique’s not awake either as he rests on my shoulder. I gently try to move my neck off Luca’s arm before looking out the window, wishing we could have stayed in Madrid longer.

On that same note, I also wish I had time to visit Barcelona among other cities here.

Sitting in between these two men, it occurs to me how I haven’t even spent one entire day here by myself .

I’ve been so caught up in Enrique, and now his best friend out of nowhere, that what happened to coming here for me ?