One day I'll have it all. // Williamson

Phone call home

I was clueless. Lotte had definitely spilled the beans on something, and I had no idea what exactly. Leah did mention she would throw me a welcome party, but we hadn't talked about it since she had mentioned it.

I decided to let it go, and simply focus on something else. So once I got home, I decided to call my mother. I hadn't spoken to her since I had left LA. we were far from close. My mom was old school, strict, and judgmental over everything in my life, from my choice of profession to my choice of acquaintances. I had tried to ignore it for years, but sometimes it hurt.

Entering my apartment, I threw my keys on my coffee table while dialing my mom's number. I was silently praying that she wouldn't answer.

The phone rang a few times before my mother's voice came out from the other end. "¿Holà?"

"Hola, mamá," I greeted, my voice full of forced cheerfulness. "How are you?"

Her response was a mixture of surprise and warmth. "Valentina! I didn't expect to hear from you so soon. I'm good, thank you. How are you, mija?"

I sighed inwardly. "I'm good, mom. Settling in, you know. London is quite different from LA."

There was a pause, and I could almost hear the disapproval in her voice. "Why did you choose to go so far away? You had everything here in Los Angeles."

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the usual lecture. "Mom, I needed a change. Football opportunities in Europe are incredible, and I've always dreamt of playing at this level."

She sighed on the other end, and I could picture her shaking her head. "You always had these big dreams, Valentina. But sometimes, dreams are not enough. You need stability, a real job, a family."

"Football is my real job, mom."

She huffed, clearly unconvinced. "You're a grown woman, but you still act like a child sometimes."

"Mom, please..." I grimaced, clearly not in the mood to argue with her.

She continued, her tone softening a bit. "I just worry about you, mija. Did you make new friends in London?" She asked. I smiled, at least she cared about my loneliness.

"Yeah. I'm good friends with my teammates, I think. They're all really nice." I said, and there was a moment of silence.

"The girls on the posters in your room?" She asked.

"Some of them are on the posters in my room, yeah," I confirmed.

"So, lesbians."

I could sense the judgment in her tone, and it was a topic we had danced around for years. "Jesus, Mom! They're my friends, and my teammates. I don't care if they're gay or not."

She sighed again, clearly dissatisfied with my response. "Just be careful, Valentina. You're in a new place, and people might not share our values. I want you to focus on your career and find a nice man. That's what's important."

I clenched my teeth, so hard it almost hurt. "I don't share your values either, mom."

There was a tense silence on the line, and I could almost feel my mother's disapproval radiating through the phone. We had danced around this disagreement for years, but it seemed like distance hadn't mended our differences.

"Valentina, you're a grown woman now. It's time to think about your future seriously. Football won't last forever, and you can't build a family with it," she said, her voice stern. "Hanging out with those people, you could..." she said, letting her words hang.

"Being gay is not a disease, mom. God's sake. Either I am or I'm not, I'm not gonna... 'caught it', because I'm friends with gay girls. Okay?"

My mother sighed heavily on the other end of the line, a sign of her disapproval. "Valentina, you're being naive. I just want what's best for you."

"No, you don't. You want what's best for you. You want to praise me in front of your friends, who are as... close-minded as you are, and you can't, because I'm not exactly the person you want me to be. I'm not gonna stop football and become a doctor just so you can brag about it at church. I am who I am and that's it."

There was a moment of silence, tension thick in the air. The disapproval in my mother's voice resonated, and I knew we were heading into familiar territory – an argument that wouldn't lead anywhere.

"Valentina, don't talk to me like that. I'm your mother, and I know what's best for you," she retorted, then let out a frustrated sigh. "You're so stubborn, Valentina. Sometimes, I don't understand why you make things so difficult."

"Yeah, okay, that's it. Good talk, mother, seriously." I groaned, hanging up the phone and leaving it on the coffee table. The conversation with my mother had left me drained, and I couldn't shake off the frustration that lingered. It had been like that for 19 years, and I slowly started to feel like it was never going to change.

My brain was fuming. I definitely needed to think about something else. I turned on my speaker, and immediately began blasting some garage rock out of it, as an attempt to ease my mind.  I let the music take over, the loud beats becoming a cathartic release for the pent-up emotions. Kick Out The Jam by MC5 was the first song to come out, and it immediately hit the spot.

It felt like it was bleaching my brain clean. I let the music blare, and decided to take a shower to get my mind off things.

The hot water cascaded down my hair and spine, washing away not only the physical grime but also the emotional residue of the conversation with my mother. The relentless pounding beats of the rock music filled the bathroom, creating a sort of weirdly therapeutic ambiance.

I spent a good half an hour in the shower before I stepped out. I wrapped myself in a towel and walked to my kitchen so I could get a glass of water.

When I entered the room, I let out a loud scream, causing the phone in my hand to almost slip through my fingers, again. Leah was sitting at my kitchen table, casually sipping from a mug.

"What the hell, Leah?! How did you get in here?" I exclaimed, clutching my towel tighter.

Leah smirked, unfazed by my outburst. "I knocked, but your music was too loud. So I just came in. You shouldn't leave your door unlocked." She said, then eyed my body from up and down, which was enough to make my cheeks red. "Alright. Go put some clothes on. You have five minutes. Then, you're coming with me."

I frowned at her words. "Coming with you where?"

She chuckled, then winked. "You'll see."