Treinta

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Aitana was thankful for her parents. The moment that she had told them what had happened, between the sobs and sniffles, the both of them immediately sprung into action, Aitana giving her phone to them so they could accept any and all calls and take care of everything while Aitana gently led Andorra to her bedroom where the ex-footballer immediately got herself in the bed.

It was strange.

Aitana was still trying to even slightly comprehend what had been happening in the last hour, her mind running a thousand miles an hour, an aching pain in her heart but when she looked at Andorra, she saw nothing behind those eyes of hers.

Andorra got a small tennis ball out of the little bedside table and laid down, throwing the ball into the air and catching it, over and over again.

Nothing was said.

There was no understanding of the situation.

Aitana tentatively sat down on the chair in the room and kept a close eye on her girlfriend.

The girlfriend that had been crying her eyes out not even ten minutes ago. The girlfriend that was now laying on her bed expressionless. The girlfriend that had been ranting five minutes ago. The girlfriend that had now gone completely silent.

The midfielder was worried.

Aitana's brain had shut off. After she had ranted to Aitana, her brain seemed to find a switch that had turned it off.

It had come to only one conclusion.

They couldn't be gone and if Andorra could pretend that they were still here, she wouldn't have to face anything because nothing had happened.

She would just be waiting at Aitana's house until her parents and brother would return from their trip to Madrid. they would only be gone for three days. So surely, she just had to wait for the text that would tell her that they were safe and coming home.

Andorra stopped throwing the ball momentarily just to put her phone on the charger, opening whatsapp to look at the last time that they had been online. 

All before the accident and the call.

They were just busy. They had to be. Her thumbs were shaking slightly as she looked at the letters at the bottom of her screen, sending all three of them the same message. A simple how was your day. her eyes scanned the sentence of the last message that her mom had sent her. 'hey darling, Madrid is great. Good luck today! You're looking amazing. So proud of you and love you! xx.'

She hadn't replied to it. She would have replied to it later. She looked at the little check mark at the end of her message and only saw one, indicating that the message didn't reach her phone. She clicked the back button and saw that the same thing was with the other two messages to her brother and father. Both only one check. 

they would reach their phones eventually.

Because they couldn't be dead.

She put her phone down and looked at her girlfriend sitting in the chair. They made eye-contact for the first time since the field and Aitana immediately sat up. Andorra's voice was void of any emotion at all, her eyes empty. 

"What are we having for dinner?"

Aitana blinked a couple of times, not comprehending the question, her blinks rapid until her brain caught up. "What?"

Andorra put the tennis ball on the bedside table and stood up, walking over to Aitana's closet, pulling some sweatpants and an oversized sweater out of it, changing as if nothing had happened, asking the same question again. "What are we having for dinner? I am starving."

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