see you later // Pablo Gavi

Chapter 15

𝑾𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒕 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔.

𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐕𝐈 𝐒𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍, 𝐖𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓. And I don't dare take off his hoodie jumper.

After a long, long, silence, Gavi says, "So I'll buy you a jersey, and I'll sign it, and you'll get an awesome seat. I'll pay for one of your friends, too. Just say you got the signed jersey at a merch table at another Barcelona game, and pretend you bought the ticket, yeah?"

I smile. "You're the sweetest."

"Huh?" he says, sounding kind of surprised.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, nothing, Gavi."

"O...kay?" he says, and I'm pretty sure he heard what I said the first time anyway. It just kind of accidentally slipped out of my mouth. I didn't mean to say it. Not at all. My thoughts just snuck out, I guess.

"Anyway," I sigh softly. "That sounds wonderful."

"I'll... mail you the tickets. They'll probably arrive Sunday morning, and you and your friend can go out and be there by 9:00 P.M., when it starts. It's a night game, and it'll be good. I want you to see me play."

I smile. "I've seen you play before, Gavi. I was a Barca fan before I met you."

"I know, but... I want you to see me, live, there, really close. I want you to be there, because we're friends, and... Well, I think it'd help me play harder knowing you're out there in that huge mass of people, singing our song and cheering me on. That's all."

I grin, leaning into him even more, my thoughts no where but on him. "Okay. I'll be sure to be there, then. And you score for me, okay? And I'll cheer for Barcelona like I mean it, but I'll cheer your name the loudest."

He grins, squeezing me in a short, simple hug, before slowly leaning away, stretching back, cracking his back, and saying, "You know, you're the sweetest."

"Then you're the second sweetest," I grin.

"Whatever you say. I have never thought of myself as sweet, but whatever you say, Ember. Anyway," he stand up slowly. "Wanna get going down now? Daylight is now pretty much in full-swing." He holds his hand out of me to take, to help me stand up.

Usually, I would never accept that from a guy, not wanting to show weakness. But these rocks are slippery, my sneakers are dried with mud caked on them, and we're on a ledge, so logically, it makes most sense for me to accept his hand.

Plus, I wouldn't mind accepting the smooth hand of my strong friend.

No. No, that's not a reason. I'm right, he's just a friend, and friends would not think that about each other. I just simply trust him because he is strong, but also I know he won't take me as weak because of it, precisely because he's a good friend.

Goodness, when did I start phychoanalyzing every little thing that is said and done?

I take his hand, and we start walking. He makes sure to let go of my hand right away, which I am both relieved and disappointed about. When the trail gets thinner, he moves in behind me, I walking in front.

As we walk, we get to a very slippery, wet, muddy slope, and I start walking down, as carefully as I can, hoping that Gavi doesn't think I am stupid or weak or something for having to walk so slow. I wonder if he could just jog down this slope.

As my thoughts slip into that thought, my feet slip too, up, and it's almost as if it's in slow motion, because I'm anticipating my bottom plopped into the awful brown mud and my body sliding down the hill.

But before that can even come close to happening, Gavi's reflexes are too good. When he sees my feet are about to slip out from under me, he grabs my waist, pulling me to his chest, as to make sure I'm steady, while saying, kind of in my ear, from behind, "You alright?"

"Uh, yeah," I say, clearing my throat, feeling so embarrassed. "Just, uh... a little slippery."

Instead of teasing me about this, I guess he picks up my uncomfortable feeling, and as I gain footing and he lets go of my middle, he says, "Yeah, you're right, it is. I almost slipped a few times, too." I doubt that greatly, but it still makes me feel better, so I guess he accomplished what he was aiming for by saying that.

We make it down the hill, and I'm panting once again. This time, it is harder to keep it from him, because we get into his car, where it is much more confined and there is less noise coming from the wind and the trees all around us. Gavi starts driving, and as he does, he says, "I know it was kind of a hard walk, but are you still happy I brought you? Be honest."

"Of course, Gavi!" I say. "It was lovely. I loved our time together up there."

"Good," he says, smiling to himself, not keeping his eyes off the road. We both know he's definitely not the best driver on Earth, and we also both know I am very concerned about safe driving, so when we're in the car together, and he's driving- which is most of the time- he is very attentive to keep his eyes on the road and be a defensive driver. For me. It's pretty sweet of him.

When I get home, I sleep. When I wake up, decide to invite Charli to the football game, saying that I bought tickets, and that they'll be delivered on Sunday. She squeals in excitement. 

Before bed that night, I get a text from Gavi.

𝖦𝖺𝗏𝗂:
𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖼𝖺 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗋

𝖬𝖾:
𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗂. 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 '𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽' 𝗉𝖾𝖽𝗋𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗐𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗍. 𝗂𝗆 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝖽𝗋𝗂 𝖺 𝖻𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁. 𝗐𝗁𝗒?

𝖦𝖺𝗏𝗂:
𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗅, 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗍𝗌, 𝗂'𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗅 𝗎 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗀𝖺𝗏𝗂 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗉𝖾𝖽𝗋𝗂 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽. 𝖨'𝗅𝗅 𝗉𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗆 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗂 𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖿𝖿. 𝗈𝖻𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗎𝗆𝖻

𝖬𝖾:
𝗎 𝖾𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗁𝗎𝗀𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗁𝗌 𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 '𝖪'

𝖦𝖺𝗏𝗂:
𝗄

𝖬𝖾:
𝗀𝖺𝗏𝗂!! 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍

𝖦𝖺𝗏𝗂:
𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍

I smile to myself, simply about the thought of Pablo Gavi.

Then I realise that as I lay down here in bed, I'm still wearing his hoodie jumper. I smile, turning over, noticing the smell of it once again, and snuggle into it. I'm glad Charli and Aggie didn't question me about it. Luckily, it doesn't have the Barcelona crest on it or anything, so I guess I'd just say it's my boyfriend's.

And how much of a lie would that be?