‘Are you being nice to me because of what I told you on the plane?’ Dina suddenly blurts out when the two of us are on our way back to the hotel.
I can only blink at her, taken aback. I wonder if this is what’s been running through her mind all this time. I remember what she said on the plane: that she didn’t want my charity.
‘No,’ I say decisively, not stopping in my tracks.
Dina frowns. ‘Then why are we suddenly not fighting?’
I shrug. ‘Because we realised how much we have in common.’
‘Liking football is the bridge between our rivalry?’ Dina asks.
‘Maybe. Can’t it be?’ I ask.
Dina looks at me closely, like she’s thinking about it. It feels like she’s looking through me, seeing every part of me. It makes heat flood through me.
‘I guess. As long as you admit that I’m better at football than you,’ Dina finally says. Normally, that would elicit a glare from me, but Dina says it so playfully, so – well – flirtatiously that it just makes me laugh.
‘Yeah, I’ll admit that when you admit I’m smarter than you,’ I counter.
‘Please. I knew way more about the history of Madrid during this entire tripandmy Spanish is better than yours.’ We’re stopped in the middle of the street now, staring each other down. And I’m definitely not backing down from her challenge.
‘I won the Spanish speech contest last year.’
‘Yeah, but I’m the only one in our class who’s managedto have an entire conversation in Spanish with a native this entire trip.’
‘I bet I can do that too!’ I say.
‘I would take that bet, any time, any day!’ Dina says. I know she means it – and she’ll hold me to it.
I smile at that, suddenly realising that the two of us have inched closer and closer to each other during this whole conversation. There’s barely any space left between us. When Dina speaks, I can feel her breath on my skin, and I can smell the sharp, sweet scent of her.
‘OK, let’s bet on it,’ I say.
Dina takes a breath, and I can see it up close. The quiver of her lips, the soft sound of it. She’s staring at me the same as I’m staring at her. And I think that she’ll step away from me, put some distance between us. But she doesn’t. It’s just the two of us on this street, the world melting away, like it doesn’t even exist.
And then, without even thinking about it, I lean forward, my eyes flickering up to Dina’s for only a moment. Asking her for permission. She leans forward too and my heart leaps up, twists and turns. My stomach tumbles, doing more somersaults than I ever thought was possible. Our lips meet somewhere in the middle and just like that, Dina and I are kissing.
Never in a million years would I have thought that this is how our trip to Madrid would end.
Chapter 22
Dina
Eleven days to the match
The Divas are on a streak. Unfortunately, it’s a losing streak.
Since agreeing to the match with Maya’s team, we’ve played three teams, and have even increased our weekly practise sessions. The team has been getting better with every match. Today, they were tied with the other team until the second half of the match, when things fell apart. It’s the best they’ve done so far, and I’m proud of them, even if there is that thread of worry that they will never be good enough to beat Maya’s team.
Since we set up this match between us, I’ve been thinking about Maya as this person I have to beat. An obstacle in my way. And this match as my chance to show her once and for all what I am capable of. But the fundraiser has changed things. I’m now thinking of her asMaya, the girl I used to date, who was my first love, who betrayed me and everything that we were. Who I might still have feelings for.
It didn’t help that I came home from the fundraiser to look Maya up, trying to find the truth of what she had confessed to me. For the first time, I’d understood what she must have been going through over the past few years. I started noticing the snide tones of the articles about her, the dismissiveness of videos. And even when Maya was beinglauded with praise, the comments below were tarnishing her; calling her names and telling her that she was less capable than the other players. Just a few minutes of reading those comments was enough to make my blood boil.
All of these thoughts are swirling around my brain when I enter the restaurant after losing yet another match.
Deen is waiting for me at one of the tables, studying the place intensely. He invited me over because he said he wanted my opinions on some things. Since Ma still refuses to help with renovations at the restaurant, I’ve been Deen’s one and only confidante when it comes to what he wants to do with the place.
‘I feel like I can already see it,’ Deen says when I approach his table. He doesn’t greet me, doesn’t even turn to look at me.
