The Intern // Cristiano Ronaldo

Chapter 4

A/N

I made this game up and it's not the one they played on March 22, so it will be very different.
•••

Barça's anthem was blaring through my ears as I sat down on the sidelines of Camp Nou. My ears are going to bleed if they don't shut up. The players already warmed up and they were walking to the field to greet each other and start the game.

"Gum?" Ancelotti showed me a piece of gum, "It helps with the nerves."

I shook my head, "No thanks, I'm not nervous."

"Honey, I know you are. I mean you're sweating and it's 40 degrees out here."

"Okay, maybe I am, but I need to suck it up."

"Well, if you want gum, I have some." He laughed.

The game has begun. Barcelona has the ball first. Great. Luis Suarez is on the ball, dribbling it down the field, when all of a sudden Pepe steps in and takes the ball, passing it to Kroos, who then passes it to Bale and then to Benzema, but the pass gets interjected.

The game is like that for the next 20 minutes. Players passing the ball and the defense taking it away. When they do get a chance to score,
the shot is either off target or the goalkeepers were there to stop the danger.

All of a sudden, the ball breaks free from when Barcelona were attacking and the counterattack from Real Madrid was on. Marcelo blasted down the left wing at full speed with the ball at his feet. He then passes it to Benzemá who was very close to the penalty area, then he passes it to Cristiano who was even closer to the goal, but not offside. Then, GOAL! Right into the bottom left corner.

You could here some people celebrating in the crowd, but most of them were whistling and screaming profanities at Cristiano as if he was a bad guy. Everyone on our bench was yelling in euphoria and jumping out of our seats, even I was doing it.

The game restarted, and it was back to passing, shooting, and missing.Then the inevitable happened. Someone fell. Hard. Well, someone got pushed. Hard.

"Let's go, Abril!" Juan yelled, standing up with his kit and I took mine also. I followed him on the pitch where there was a group of players surrounding the one on the ground. "Oh, my god." he mumbled looking very shocked.

Cristiano Ronaldo was on the ground crying in pain.

I could hear all the players screaming at each other. It was like a fucking war up in here. "You fucker!" Ramos yelled to Dani Alves. "You did it on purpose!" He pushed him and then hell broke loose.

I ran up to Cristiano, dodging players to get to him, "Where does it hurt the most?" I asked softly, trying to get him to calm down.

"My ankle." He huffed out.

I nodded and turned to look at Juan, but then I realized that he wasn't there anymore, but that he was treating Pepe to my right. He seemed to be holding his stomach area. "What happened?" I asked Juan.

"Someone punched him." He paused and let out a sigh, "I think he broke a rib."

Shit.

"Aren't you going to help me?" Cristiano coughed.

I shook my head and focused on him, "Oh, sorry."

Ever since he confessed that he liked me, it has been awkward. Very awkward. Like 'catching your parents doing it' awkward. It's gotten worse since that day, now we avoid each other as much as we can. Remember when I said that I couldn't stand it when someone doesn't look at me. Now I can't stand it when he does look at me.

I pulled his boots and socks off carefully to look at his ankle. It does not look good. The ankle was bruised pretty badly. I touched it lightly to see if it was stiff or tender, and it was stiff. That means that he sprained his ankle. Thank god, he didn't fracture it.

I pulled out my walkie-talkie and called out, "I need a stretcher."

Cristiano moaned out in pain, "What happened to my ankle?"

"You severely sprained it." I said, "How did it happen?"

"I was running with the ball and Alves came and slide tackled me, hitting my ankle directly." He groaned and scrunched up his face, "Fuck! It hurts."

I nodded and smoothed his hair in order to calm him down. "I know." I spoke calmly.

Soon, the guys with the stretcher got here and took him to the infirmary here in Camp Nou. I followed them in and soon the guys left. We were alone.

I walked toward him. My converse on the hardwood floor were the only sound heard. He was laying on the exam table shutting his eyes and breathing heavily. "I'm going to move it, okay?" I announced and he nodded.

I reached for his foot and moved it to one side. "Ah!" He yelled and I dropped it immediately.

"Sorry." I said, blushing. I moved it to the other side and got the same reaction from him. "Yep. It's definitely sprained. Grade II sprain for that matter."

"And what does that mean?" He whispered.

"Bed rest for the next two weeks." I said softly.

I pulled out the ankle brace that was in my red kit. I gingerly wrapped it around his ankle securing it and tightly for the ankle not to move. "There we go." I smiled brightly and looked at him. That's when I noticed he was staring at me for a long time. I blushed and thought of what he told me on the plane.

He groaned and covered his face with his hands. There was a long pause. "It hurts."

I sat down next to him, "I know, but in two weeks you'll be back on your feet." I hesitantly grabbed his hand in a comforting way.

"That's not what I meant." He said, finally staring at me. I raised an eyebrow and he continued, "I meant, it hurts that I like you and I can't be with you."

Then, I realized something.

There is a thin line between love and hate and we both may have crossed that line with what he did next.