16. trust issues

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So there it was, looming on the horizon like a storm cloud with a bad attitude – the upcoming match against Valencia. Should I be worried? Nah. The last time I was on the pitch, I practically danced through the opposition. They should be the ones quaking in their football boots, not me. But hey, a bit of healthy competition never hurt anyone, right? Plus, I really should stick to my morals and stay humble, but I guess that's what happens when you're around Lucy Bronze too much.

As I mulled over the impending showdown, I received a text from none other than my mother herself. She suggested we go for dinner. Now, for those of you who've been following along, you know that my dear Madre and I haven't exactly been the poster children for mother-daughter bonding. We've had our differences, to say the least. So, when she suggested dinner, I was curious, to say the least. Maybe she'd finally decided to embrace the fact that me and the angel child - Leticia - are not the same person. 

The evening arrived, and I found myself waiting for her at our chosen restaurant, wondering what on earth this dinner was all about. When she finally showed up, she was all smiles, like she had been possessed by the spirit of a particularly sunny Disney princess. Not gonna lie, it was a bit unsettling.

We sat down, and for the first time in what felt like a while, it was just the two of us, no drama, no awkwardness, just... dinner. She asked about my life, my career and all the usual. Of course, I lied to her about my love life, if I told her the complete truth it would probably leave the poor woman in need of urgent resuscitation. As the evening unfolded, I couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for the mother-daughter dinners I'd seen in cheesy movies.

"You know, Bella," she said with a wistful smile, "I haven't spent this much time with you in ages."

I blinked, trying to process the fact that my mother was actually acknowledging my existence without a side of disapproval. "Yeah, it's a bit strange, isn't it?"

She nodded. "I suppose we've both been too stubborn for our own good."

We shared a laugh, and for a moment, it felt like we were in one of those heart warming films where estranged family members magically reconnect over a shared dessert. 


-

I had just started packing for me and my sister's trip to San Sebastian, and by "packing," I mean throwing clothes I thought would be suitable for a memorial vacation haphazardly into a suitcase, when the doorbell rang. I looked at my phone, wondering if I had lost track of time. It couldn't be Leticia; she knew better than to disturb me during my pre-travel panic mode. I rushed to the door, yanking it open, and there she was - Alexia. Of course, it was Alexia. When was it ever anybody else?

"Hey," she said, her voice filled with surprise and curiosity, immediately I could tell she knew something was up. "Hi!" I breathed, equally relieved yet stressed about her sudden appearance. We greeted with a chaste kiss, before I shut the door and picked up all the clothes I had thrown over from the mezzanine to the lounge. 

"Ale, it's not that I'm not happy to see you but... what are you doing here?"

Alexia raised her eyebrows at the chaos that currently resembled my living room. "Uh, you said to come over at eight?"

Fuck. I did, didn't I? Mentally cursing my forgetful brain, I apologised and asked if I could get her anything to drink. She asked for some tea which, now thinking about it I could really do with, so  obligingly I made us some. I could barely imagine how I must've looked; like some blonde lunatic rushing about the house with double the frizz she normally has and her entire wardrobe strewn over her whole house. 

I returned with two teas to see her eyeing the open suitcase. "Packing for a trip?" she asked, her gaze flicking from me to the bag.

"Did I not tell you?" I rubbed my eyes, God, I needed some sleep. Alexia shook her head. "Me and my sister are going to San Sebastian for this spa retreat. We booked it ages ago, I must've forgotten to tell you."

STARGIRL, alexia putellasWhere stories live. Discover now