16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Cattleya Cardona

T he ref blows the whistle, alerting us the game is over. If I had a soccer ball at my feet; I would kick it so hard, it would probably go into orbit right next to the moon. I hate losing, but I fucking hate losing when I did everything I could to win, and still it wasn't enough. It was an away game, so I'm thankful there are very few Golden Warriors fans. I'd hate to disappoint anyone right now, but I'm not exactly in the mood for pictures and photographs. The locker room feels grim, with everyone's long faces and sagging shoulders.

"You are fucking Warriors, if you lose one battle you dust it off, and get up again. I don't want anyone here thinking we're done because we're far from it," Coach says in his steady and strong voice. "Tonight, go home, yell, punch a wall, whatever you have to do to get the anger and frustration out of your system. Tuesday, I want all your bright, hopeful faces back for training," he finishes, and makes his way to the door so we can change. I dress quickly; I'll shower at home. We still have an hour bus ride before I can pick up my car at our training facility. It's going to be a long night.

"Who are we?" Noelia shouts once we're on the bus. No one replies. This game was hard. We gave it our all, and we still lost. "I'm going to ask one more time, and you all better answer this time. Who are we?"

I look at Stefa who's sitting next to me and shout back at the same time, "The Golden fucking Warriors."

Noelia smirks in our direction, and we keep shouting back and forth until the entire team is jumping on the seats, releasing all the pent-up frustration we have.

"Much better, Warriors. We need to shake this game off and come back stronger for the next match. I know we can do it," Noelia says as the bus arrives to our training facility. We all fist-pump her on our way off the bus, spirits much higher than an hour before.

Once I make it home, a sleepy Tinta greets me, and I feed him as I prepare something quick for myself and go take a shower. I need to find a chef who can come and cook in bulk for me. Eating whatever is in the fridge is getting old; I've never been a good cook, and, cooking for one is not my ideal way to spend my time.

After getting into bed, I pull open the OfficialCherub app but none of the messages waiting there for me are from the tattooed hot man who kissed me senseless the other day. I guess he still needs more time. I really don't want to read whatever Romina Cuti had to say about tonight's game, but if I want to move on and put this match behind me. I have to.

"Golden Warriors fell against the reserve team for Alumnas. Is this a sign of the team's downfall?" What the heck is wrong with this woman, and how is she still a journalist after these types of headlines? How can one loss mean the team's doom? I continue reading the article, but with after every word, my anger keeps rising until I feel myself sweating and my heart beating fast. Releasing a long breath, I decide to call the only person in the media I trust.

" Hija, estas bien? (Daughter, are you okay?)"

"Hi, Daddy," I say as my voice breaks.

"What happened? Is this about tonight's game?"

Of course, he found a way to watch my game.

"Yeah, Dad, but I'm not crying because we lost. I'm just beyond frustrated with a journalist who's trying to break our team apart."

I hear Dad whispering something to my mom, and then he speaks to me. "What do you mean this person wants to break the team? Tell me everything, from the beginning."

And that's what I do. I tell him everything. From the day I met her to all the lies she's written so far.

"And you say this woman is allowed in the locker room? Have you told your coach?"

I explain that the coach didn't think it was a good idea for me to talk to the press. Even though I wanted to sue her on the spot, he decided it was best if we didn't bring drama upon us while the season was still going.

"Well, Cata. Something has to be done. You're an adult and you're part of a team, so I won't tell you what to do but it looks like this woman is trying to make a quick buck at your expense. I bet she knows who you are and decided to spin lies about you in hopes you would pay her to stay quiet. But if I know the daughter I raised, you won't give her a dime and will find a way to deal with her."

I breathe a sigh of relief. I just needed Daddy as my sounding board. He's right, I need to deal with this before it becomes a bigger problem.

"Thanks, Dad, for listening to me. I'm sorry I woke you up."

I hear my dad chuckling on the other side of the line. "No worries, mi amor . It'll be fun waking up your mom now that I'm awake."

"Ugh, Daddy. Gross. Not what I needed to hear. Love you both, good night."

I hang up before I can hear any more of their antics. Picking up Tinta from the couch, I bring him to bed with me and snuggle him, falling asleep to Ted Lasso .

After morning training, I go to see Melissa, the team's publicist.

"Hey Melissa, got a second?"

She motions for me to take a seat with a bright smile. "Hi, Cata ? Todo bien? (Everything okay?) What can I do for you?" she asks as I take a seat.

"Well, I need your help. I'm having trouble with Romina Cutti, from Bleacher's Pulse , and what she has been writing about us." Melissa's demeanor immediately changes at the mention of Romina. I wonder what's up with that?

"Oh, I haven't read anything. What did she say?" My eyebrows shoot to the sky, and my eyes grow big, not believing her .

"You haven't read the way she's been trying to manipulate the narrative about our team?" I ask, trying to be gentle and polite about this. In reality, what I want to say is, isn't it your job to be aware of everything said about the team and create a good image of us?

"No, I've been busy with other projects. But what specifically would you want me to do?" she asks, and I assess her. Is she in on it with Romina? Nah, that would be kind of sinister. Why would she want to ruin her own team?

"Well, could you intervene during the press conferences and set the record straight? I'd like to be up there for the pressers and if she says something that isn't accurate— like the team is falling apart because of me, I'd appreciate it if you would stop her. Ask her for the proof, then tell everyone the truth: that we're doing great and working together to win the tournament."

Melissa scratches the back of her neck, clearly uncomfortable. "I mean, I guess I could try, but I cannot make any promises."

Is she for real?

"Color me surprised, Melissa. I honestly thought it was your job to help maintain a healthy image of the team. I guess I should bring this up to management," I say as I rise from the chair, and she looks at me in shock. "Thank you for your time," I say as I close the door behind me. Something isn't sitting right with me, and I need to find out who Romina really is, and why she has so much power over people.