“About him? Nah. But I think about my friends I don’t see anymore and wonder if we’ll be able to fall right back into our groove when they’re back in December. I miss when we would just get into pendejadas all the time. But I also miss having someone to stay up late with and pour my heart out to. All our hopes and fears. The chisme. Everything. We still text, sometimes FaceTime, but we’ve also all got our own lives now, new friend groups, things going on that are important.”
“What would it say right now? Your heart.”
I look at Vale’s eyes. His lips. How comfortable he looks in the faded navy long-sleeve shirt he’s wearing. At his legs. Where his shorts end and our skin touches. He’s actually got really nice legs, as much as he thirsts over mine. The thought runs across my brain of him draping his leg over mine, my hand going up and down that skin. Then I go back to his eyes. And—
“Yo, Piña!” Ahmed shouts from the other side of my door. “FIFA tournament downstairs. Come on.”
I look to my bedroom door and then all the way back to Vale, giving him a soft smile. “Want to stay for some FIFA?”
“I’m not playing against actual soccer players. But I’ll root for you if you want.”
My smile only gets bigger as I pick myself up off the bed and offer a hand to him. “I’d like that a lot.”
15
I BOUNCE ON THEfront of my feet, just barely coming off the ground. “DÁKITI” plays as loud as my AirPods will go. After a few hops, I do some extra stretching, feeling the pull of my leg muscles as my gloved hands hold on to the tips of my cleats.
It’s been two weeks since Leana called us off, and I’m feeling good. Moved on. Clearer in my head. I’ve traded morning runs outside for the student athletes’ gym (and the roomies and Kat even join sometimes). We’re over a month into the semester. Got a solid B+ on the Plato’s Cave essay with a note from Coolidge saying that I’m doing good work. Nutrition: A; Calculus: A; except for Philosophy, everything’s an A. After another away game, we’re back home this week. It’s surprisingly fresh this Saturday for South Texas, a beautiful day for some football as long as I don’t put too much thought into if cool, low eighties in late September is because of climate change.
It’s like all the pieces of my life are situating themselves now, having figured out what’s what, and we’re entering round two of Gabi’s First Semester of College ready for a KO. Flawless victory, even.
Something bumps into my shoulder. No, not something. Ahmed. First one’s sort of a strong shove and then three, four, five quick ones that are more annoying than actually trying to get me off balance. I let out a breath before turning my head to him, tilting my chin up while taking out my earphones.
“¿Quéquieres, chingón?”
“Your tutor’s here,” he says with a smirk. The whole house is in on this now. How Piña gets dumped by a girl and steals her best friend. Pinches payasos, all of them.
I give him an eye roll before turning around and immediately spotting Vale at the front, standing next to Kat. A couple weeks ago, I was imagining Leana here too, all excited to have a girlfriend be at my home games, maybe wearing a shirt she made with my name on the back.
Now that’s just a memory, but I don’t feel like I’m lacking anything. I’m happy. I’ve still got my parents farther down the stands, closer to my goalpost. I’ve got my friends. My teammates. I’ve got Vale smiling at me as I wave and jog the few steps over to the seats, hopping on the metal railing that separates them and the pitch to get closer to him and Kat.
“You showed up. I thought you had to work.”
“I told my cousins they could handle the store without me for the rest of the day. Especially because their hungover asses had me opening by myself this morning. And there was no way I was missing out on this. But I didn’t have a chance to stop by their house and change into something Islandery.”
I take a look at him and his simple heather-gray tee and navy shorts. “I—hold on. I’ve got you.”
It only takes a few seconds for me to jump back down to the grass, rush over to the bench my bag’s hiding under, open it and grab my team jacket—a green windbreaker,Islander Socceron the left chest with a ball, and PIÑA on the back above the big, bold1—and then be back over to Vale, holding it out for him. “Wear this.”
He looks a little shocked, his mouth open slightly, his arms crossed over his chest. “You—are you sure?”
I shrug my shoulders and shake my hand holding the jacket, like I’m signaling for him to just take it. “Yeah. I’m holding it out for you. Why wouldn’t I be sure?”
“I just …it’s yours.”
“Yeah. I know. That’s why I get to hand it to you. Unless you also think it’d be too warm over your shirt, but it’s pretty thin.”
Kat, first looking just as confused as Vale, eventually calms the muscles in their face and nudges him with their elbow, and that finally persuades him to take those couple steps up to me and grab the jacket. He slowly puts it on, like he’s trying to be extra careful. It’s a little roomy on him, but not enough to be wearing him.
“Looks good on you.”
“Thanks, Gabi,” Vale tells me softly. His cheeks get that slight maroon color again, probably from the breeze of wind that rushes by. “Go kick some ass.”
“Always. And first attempt I block today, all yours,” I say back, pushing myself off the railing and giving him a wink before running to Coach and the team, all ready to start the game.
“First block all yours, huh?” Pérez teases, just loud enough for me to hear, nudging my side and winking. “Dale, papi.”
“Bro, shut up. It’s not like that.”
