[ two ]
She was still laid out on the pitch, with her hands over her face in embarrassment when she heard footsteps approaching. For a second, she thought maybe it was Ronaldo who came back to mock her for a second time, but those thoughts soon left her mind when she noticed this person's footsteps sounded rather hurried. And she realized whoever it was had probably forgotten something.
Not wanting to be seen in defeat, she took her hands on her face and made an effort to get back on her feet, but the person had already seen her on the ground.
It was Kaká.
"What are you doing on the floor?" He asked, confused.
"Oh, you know," She began in a sarcastic tone, "I'm just familiarizing myself with the pitch."
He chuckled at that. "You're really strange." He told her, his Brazilian accent rising to the surface and for one reason or another, she found it to be quite attractive.
"It was a joke." She sighed, noticing he hadn't caught on.
"Oh." He said simply, his smile fading.
Marilz got back on her feet slowly. There was still an aching pain in her body from the push Ronaldo had given her and she rubbed her throbbing shoulder. Remembering there were still things to gather, she thought she would get started.
"So, what made you return to the pitch?" She asked curiously, "I thought everyone would be gone by now."
A smile brightened his face. He walked over to the dugout, where the substitues sit during a game and bent down to pick up something under one of the seats. "I forgot my training jacket." He informed her, pulling a white zip up from under the chairs.
Her feet carried her across the lush green grass of Santiago Bernabeu until she reached the goal net that was set up.
Reaching as high as she could, she tried to untie the net from the posts, but being 5'4ft in height didn't help. She couldn't reach it. She was startled when, from behind her, she heard footsteps approaching and next she saw him undo the knot that was secured around the goal post tightly. "Let me help you." He told her with a polite smile.
Mariluz couldn't help but blush.
"Thank you." She replied.
Looking around the field for a second, he asked, "Where is Cris? I heard he was gonna help clean up."
"I told him he could head home and I'd take care of things here." She lied with a shrug of her shoulders.
"If Cris is giving you a hard time, you can say so and I'll talk to him." Ricardo told her.
But she shook her head quickly. "No, everything is fine."
"Are you sure?" He insisted. "Because I remember when I first joined the team, the other guys told me I was lucky that Cris didn't shun me like he did with other new comers." Patting me on the shoulder reassuringly, he added, "Don't worry, he's just a very guarded person, but you'll grow on him and soon you'll see what a great friend he is."
"If you say so." She muttered.
After helping her take down the nets and using them as bags to hold the soccer balls, she and Ricardo dragged them into one of the equipment closets together.
Being a Barcelona fan, she had always seen the Real Madrid footballers as selfish crybabies, but the way Ricardo had acted towards her made her think that maybe some of them were actually worth getting to know.
He dusted his hands off before offering one for her to shake. "Ricardo Izecson Dos Santos Leite." He introduced himself with his full name. "But everyone calls me Kaka."
