Chapter 1

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Before the game:


Barcelona Changing Rooms: Reader's Pov


Sitting in my cubby, I listen to the girls chatting excitedly about the upcoming game, Arsenal vs Barcelona. "Bien chicas, tranquilas, tranquilas." (Right girls, quiet, quiet down...) I glance up at our head coach, Jonatan Giráldez, my mouth curling at the edges at his mere attempt to quiet down the excited buzz. We take little notice of him, that is until Alexia yells "CÁLLATE!" (Shut it!) silencing us in seconds. Stunned himself, Jonatan coughs, before saying "Gracias, Alexia. Ahora bien, el autobús del equipo estará por aquí para recogerlos a todos mañana a las 12:30 exactamente, antes de que nos dirijamos al aeropuerto." (Thanks, Alexia. Now then, the team bus will be around to pick you all up here tomorrow at 12:30 exactly, before we drive to the airport.) He then pauses and glances towards me, Lucy and Kiera.
"Sé que algunos de ustedes tienen una relación amistosa con los opositores, pero yo no quiero tonterías. Este es un gran partido para nosotros. No aceptaré que ninguno de ustedes sea blando con ellos porque son sus amigos." ( I know that some of you have a friendly relationship with the opponents, but I want no fooling around. This is a big game for us. I won't accept any of you going soft on them because they're your friends.) We nod at him as he looks at us once more, a stern look accentuating the wrinkles on his forehead. "Sólo espero lo mejor de ti." (I expect only the best from you.) His face then softens, "¡ahora id a casa y descansad, equipo!" (Now go home and get some rest, team!). And with that, he leaves and the excited buzz continues once more.


Meanwhile.. With Arsenal..: General Pov


After finishing the drills, the girls make there way towards the changing rooms, desperate to have a soak in a hot shower. However, for one unlucky sole, the shower would have to wait as a voice behind her plucked up. "Katie, a word." The voice of the gaffer echoed in her ears, cringing at the sharp tone in his voice. Unwilling to sound arrogant, she responds with a drawn out "on my way..." her thick Irish accent making it almost inaudible. As she drags her feet against the tarmac, her mind floods with reasons to why the gaffer would want to see her. Injury? Game Ban? She hadn't been carded that many times this season. Had she? Her thoughts are put to a stop when she reaches the door to the managers office before she sighs and walks in.
"You wanted to see me, coach." Jonas coughs uncomfortably. "Yes, sit, Katie." Suddenly very aware of herself, she sits down on the chair facing her manager, fiddling subconsciously with her fingers. "Do you think it's wise to get carded this weekend, Katie."

"Uhm, no coach, its never wise to get carded." She coughs desperately searching for a way to escape the awkward conversation. "So no fighting, am I right?"

"Well.. Sir.. You see.. I never mean to get into fights, Jonas." She responds, defending herself against the accusations. His face softens as he responds with a quick, "I know you don't, Katie. I just wanted to make sure you know. The second you get a yellow, your off. I cant risk being a player down, especially in a game as big at the semi's." Katie rolls her eyes. "Right yeah, I hear ya." I broad, Irish accent threads it's way through the statement as she bites back, accidentally, of course. "Great. Now go home and rest." Jonas responds, seemingly unfazed at her sharp tone of voice. Quick to escape, she slides out the chair and turns the handle of the door.


(It won't be much, but lets see if this gets read. Love ya <3)


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