But now we’re not at the field. I’m not on the pitch. There aren’t a couple hundred other people around to help me divide my focus. We’re here, alone, in my room. He’s on my bed and my mind is constantly playing all those late-night hypotheticals of himon my bed. And if I let those linger too long, I’m going to have to turn back onto my stomach or else he’s going to get a big sign that my head’s not thinking about philosophy right now.
I watch Vale set his laptop down at his feet and scoot it farther away from him. He looks at me and asks, “What do you usually do when you have trouble concentrating?”
“Most days I find something else to focus on. Go to the park, find a field, kick a ball around. Do some drills.”
“I should’ve assumed that,” Vale answers with a chuckle.
“All my roommates are gone right now, though.” Pérez is with Kat. Nguyen’s girlfriend came down to visit. Ahmed is—actually, I have no idea where Ahmed is. “Not that I can’t do drills by myself. And I don’t want to force you into—”
“Nah,” he says before I can finish. “I’m down for some soccer. Let’s go. You can teach me some stuff. Maybe I’ll even try to call itfootballlike y’all do; really get into the vibes. That way your brain’s still going but it’s not on any of this work you obviously aren’t finishing today. And you can say that you were at least some kind of productive.”
My head tilts and my eyes squint a little, like I’m trying to catch him faking me out. “You want to learn some football? ¿De veras?”
“As much as I enjoy watching you play, I think it’s time I try being on the other side. And my dad will be so impressed. Plus, my eyes could use a break from a laptop screen, and I’m basically already dressed to spend the day outside.”
He stretches his legs out and pats the skin of his thighs not covered from the running shorts he’s wearing. Shorts that look a lot like the kind Leana would wear. They look really good on him. No doubt he’s wearing them more for comfort and because he thought it’d be a lazy day of studying, but the opportunity has presented itself. And, needless to say, they’ve been one of my biggest distractions the entire morning. Like I’ve been looking for reasons to look at his pretty, lean legs. The only reason I don’t feel all the way weird about it is because I’ve caught him doing the same thing at least twice as many times.
“Also, I really want a raspa,” Vale continues. “Half strawberry, half mango maybe. With tajín on it. So, we play for a while and then get raspas after.”
I take in a breath as I sit up, letting it out slowly, trying to make it look like I’m wanting to at least consider pushing through some more studying. But, “Alright. Let’s go. I’ve never said no to raspas or football in my life, and I can’t start now.”
This is much better.
I pull my shirt over my head and throw it onto the crossbar, taking in the pitch. The grass has yellowed and probably hasn’t been watered since the last time it rained, weeks ago, and the other goalpost doesn’t have a net, but it’s perfect. This, at some city-owned park in Corpus Christi or on the streets of Tamaulipas or at a field near my tía’s tienda in Veracruz, is where I fell in love with the game. Where I’m happiest.
“Alright,” Vale says from behind me, tossing me the ball so he can take off his shirt too. “Show me how to score on you.”
In no universe could I have kept in the laugh that comes out hearing him say those words.
“Verga,”I finally manage after the cackling stops. I drop the ball and start kicking it straight up, watching as it goes above my head and then down to my foot again and again. Four, then five times before finally letting it hit the ground. “Cocky already. Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Vale. We’ll start with some beginner stuff, see how that goes, and if you don’t break your ankle,maybewe can move on to kicks.”
I show him how to dribble, having him go between agility cones while keeping control of the ball, and, when he’s got the hang of that, we move on to quick passes from foot to foot. Some level-zero basics to get a sense of what I’m working with and how fast he catches on (which turns out to be pretty quickly). I keep close, watching his equally careful and graceful movements and the ball going back and forth between the insides of his feet at a medium pace and then a little faster and then—
“Oh fuck,”he yells when his left foot trips over the ball and he starts stumbling.
“Got you,” I let out as my body rushes forward and my arms wrap around Vale, keeping him up. One of my hands is right over his heart, and I can feel the fast beat of it from the rush of nearly getting a face full of dead grass and dirt.
I haven’t, like,touched himtouched him since the party. Mostly hugs and small moments of body contact. And now I’ve got a hand on his bare chest and the other on his stomach, my palm over his belly button. I’ve brought him in close, his back pressed to my also bare front, my nose buried in his hair. His own hands are clinging to my arms, slowly getting looser as he calms down.
“I—you good?”
“Yeah,” Vale answers, his voice breathy. “Thanks for catching me.”
“Claro.” I force myself to let go of him now, before I have to start thinking of a reason that I’m still holding him. “It happens. Grass and dirt stains are part of the game. We’ll try again, though. You’ve got the hang of it.”
He does. After a few more near falls, he gets into a groove, and not even a second goes by in between the ball hitting right foot and then left foot. Level zero fully completed. Passed with flying colors or whatever that saying is. “Think you’re ready for more?”
“Bring it,” he says, his smile and eyes confident.
This time, when I show him how to pass the ball between my feet, my right leg spreads, creating some space, and then I do the same thing with my left. “Think of it as going from a two-step to a cumbia.”
“That’s the most Tex-Mex thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“Well, that’s how it was explained to me. Basically what you were doing before, but adding a little spice to it, yeah? And remember to stay low to the ground. Keep the knees bent.”
“Yeah, I got this, coach.”
I let out a breathy laugh, looking from him to the ground. “I’m the tutor now, huh?”
