STARGIRL, alexia putellas

19. mixing business with pleasure

The clock on the wall seemed to mock us as we sat at the marble dining table, surrounded by papers, notebooks, and strategically scattered highlighters. Alexia and I were supposed to be deep into the world of football tactics, preparing for the impending clash against Chelsea. 

I glanced at the open notebook in front of me, filled with scribbles that seemed to form an abstract art piece rather than any coherent tactical strategy. My pen hovered above the paper, and I sighed, realizing that my mind was a galaxy away from the game plan.

Alexia, on the other hand, was staring at her laptop screen, where football formations and player stats danced like elusive ghosts. She had a focused expression, but I could see a flicker of restlessness in her eyes.

"So, uh, 4-3-3 or 4-4-2?" I asked, attempting to steer the conversation back to football.Alexia looked up, her gaze meeting mine. "Hmm? Oh, right. 4-3-3, I guess."

I nodded, even though I wasn't entirely sure if that was the best choice. My mind was wandering into a realm of thoughts that had nothing to do with football tactics.

As the night wore on, our studious façade began to crumble. Alexia yawned, stretching her arms above her head in a way that distracted me more than it should have.

"You know, we should probably focus. The match is in a few days," she said, trying to sound serious.

"Yeah, yeah, totally," I replied, my eyes drawn to the way her hair fell across her shoulder.But let's be real, dear reader, studying football tactics at midnight was never going to be a riveting experience. It was a battle against fatigue, distraction, and the magnetic pull of each other's company.

"Alright, I'm focused," I said, trying to sound determined as I half-heartedly flipped through the pages. The truth was, my mind was wandering in a totally different direction.

Alexia shot me a playful smirk. "Sure you are."

"Shut up." I mock glared.

She chuckled, the sound playing like a melody in the room. "Bella, we need to get through this. Chelsea is not going to take it easy on us."

I sighed dramatically, resting my chin on my hand. "Can't we just bribe them with some tapas and call it a day?"

Alexia laughed, the kind of laughter that made the room feel warmer. "As tempting as that sounds, I don't think it'll work."

"Fine, fine. Let's get serious about this tactical masterpiece," I grumbled, attempting to gather some semblance of focus.

Just when I thought I had successfully diverted my mind from the enticing distractions, it turned out that Alexia had her own plans for keeping our focus intact— or rather, breaking it entirely. As we delved deeper into the tactical discussion, I noticed a change in her demeanour.

Alexia's gaze, once fixed on the football formations, now seemed to have a mind of its own. Her eyes wandered, and I couldn't help but wonder if the low-cut top I chose to wear for our studious evening was, perhaps, a questionable decision.

"So, uh, about the defensive line..." I began, trying to steer the conversation back to the game plan. But my attempt at seriousness was thwarted by the playful sparkle in Alexia's eyes.

"Hmm?" she hummed, her attention only half on the football diagrams. Her eyes lingered for a moment longer than necessary on my— let's say, strategically exposed neckline.

I cleared my throat, feigning innocence. "The defensive line, Alexia. We were discussing tactics, remember?"

"Right, right. Defensive line," she said, a slow grin spreading across her face. "Very important stuff."

I raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain composure. "You're not even looking at the tactics anymore, are you?"

Alexia leaned back in her chair, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Can you blame me? You're a bit distracting tonight."

"Oh, please. I'm here for the football, not as your personal eye candy," I retorted, though the corners of my lips betrayed a hint of a smile.

Alexia raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in her eyes. "Football, you say? Well, we can mix business with pleasure, can't we?"

I laughed. "Is that the latest tactical approach? Scoring on and off the field?"

"I'm always up for trying new strategies."
Deciding a strategic retreat for a moment, I excused myself. "I need a glass of water, or maybe I should say, a tactical hydration break."

As I strolled into the kitchen, I heard Alexia's footsteps following closely behind. I turned around to find her leaning casually against the doorway, a smirk playing on her lips. "Tactical hydration, huh?"

I grabbed a glass from the cupboard, avoiding her gaze. "Yeah, you know, important for maintaining peak football performance."

She closed the distance between us, her presence sending a delightful shiver down my spine. "And here I thought I was the distraction."

Before I could comprehend what was happening, Her arms snaked around my waist, pulling me  into a passionate kiss, and let's just say, the kitchen turned into a different kind of field, where the game was all about exploring each other's territories. The score? Well, let's just say we both emerged as winners.

- 

Bursting into the eerily quiet locker room, I swiftly wrestled into my cleats, knowing all too well that I was beyond fashionably late to this morning's session. As I sprinted onto the field, the training had already kicked off, and Mapi, with her keen eyes, couldn't resist a playful comment.

"Look who graced us with her presence," she quipped as I jogged over to the huddle, where the girls were getting the lowdown on today's training agenda.

Caught between Mapi's teasing and the scrutiny of the team, I noticed Alexia turning with a wicked grin. Upon reaching her, I shot her a light shove and muttered, "Don't." Her laughter was the soundtrack to my belated entrance, courtesy of a media commitment that left me unsupervised by our shared alarm clock.

After the tactical briefing, the team dispersed into drill groups. As I headed to my designated training zone, Mapi casually draped her arm around my shoulder, curiosity dancing in her eyes.

"So, what's the excuse for your tardiness?" she inquired.

"My alarm was on strike this morning," I replied, only to catch a smirk creeping onto her face. "What?"

"Well, if those marks on your neck are from yesterday, then I'm not surprised your alarm called in sick," she jested, the smirk growing as I instinctively reached for my neck.

After a long night of... you know, I forgot to check the aftermath, and now, the evidence was painted across my neck like a neon sign.

Panicking, I shot Mapi a desperate look, asking, "Is it bad?"

She chuckled, "Not that bad. Just a bit here, here, here, and he—"

"Okay, okay, I get it! It's bad!" I hissed, berating myself for both the hickeys and my untimely tardiness.

Attempting to ignore Mapi's amusement, I glanced across the field, locking eyes with Alexia, who sported a colossal smirk. Rolling my eyes at her, I refocused on training, praying that the rest of the team would kindly refrain from commenting on the state of my neck for the remainder of the session.

After a killer training session, we all huddled up one last time for the coach's parting words. Patri, being the nosy detective she is, sidled up to me, inspecting my neck like she was looking for hidden messages.

"Damn, Alexia, could you have left more of a mark?" Lucy teased, giving her a nudge.

I rolled my eyes, trying to end this conversation before it became a full-blown investigation.
"Okay, enough with the neck inspections, Sherlock. We've got a match tomorrow, remember? Let's get prepared," I declared, hoping to redirect the conversation.

The group seemed to agree, and as we made our way toward the tunnel, I felt Alexia's hand land on my lower back.

"Stop looking so smug, Putellas," I shot at her, earning a laugh that was music to my ears.

-

Just as I was going over the tactics for the umpteenth time, my phone buzzed, and I saw that it was my mother calling. Now, when Mama calls during tactical crunch time, it's either an emergency involving the cat, an update on what she's making for dinner, or a family event that I might have forgotten.

"Hey, Mama. What's up?" I answered, the tactical board still laid out in front of me.

"Bella, mi carina. I hope I'm not interrupting anything important." She greeted me with that warm tone that carried the weight of a thousand family expectations.

"Oh, just world domination strategies, you know, the usual. What's going on?"

"Well, you know your Abuela Carlotta's birthday is coming up, and I was thinking of throwing a little party for her. Nothing big, just family and close friends. Oh, and I was wondering if you'd like to bring Alexia along."

Ah, the joy of family gatherings – an opportunity for everyone to scrutinize your life choices.

"Yeah, sure. I'll ask Alexia if she's up for it," I replied, already picturing how the night could turn into a sitcom-worthy disaster.

My mother, ever the voice of reason, took a more serious tone. "Isabela, please. This is a family event. Try not to make inappropriate jokes or embarrass yourself. And, for heaven's sake, act like an adult for once."

I rolled my eyes, imagining myself tiptoeing around the family gathering like I was on eggshells. "I'll do my best, Mama. No promises on the adulting part, though."

She sighed, probably regretting the life choices that led to me being her daughter. "Just try, Isabela. We don't need a repeat of last year's incident."

Oh, last year's incident – the family still brings that up at every opportunity. "Fine, fine. I'll be on my best behaviour. Anything else?"

"Just bring Alexia, and please, for the love of sanity, don't turn the party into a stand-up comedy show. I love you and good luck with the game!"

I couldn't help but chuckle as I reminisced. "Love you too, Mama."

And with that, I resumed my tactical masterclass, now with the added excitement of an upcoming family event. Fun times ahead.