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After lunch, we moved some chairs to an open field, where the boys placed two portable bow frames and drew lines on the lawn with a white spray can. It’s exciting to be here and see David play with his brothers. I’m jumping up and down because I want to join them, but none of the girls want to enlist on the other team, and soccer is a game meant to be played with the same amount of participants. They are content with just cheering their men up from the sidelines. Bummer.
As Ruben predicted, the two oldest are playing against their younger brothers. As they start rolling the ball, my excitement turns into frustration. Gabriel is a firecracker, fast, and good with the ball. Earlier, Erin proudly informed me he attended UC Berkeley with a soccer scholarship. Martin does the job, scoring a couple of goals right in front of David, and he does nothing. Nothing. It’s like he has two left feet. He also gets distracted easily, arguing with Ruben about what to do and the right strategy to follow.
I’m on my feet yelling and pointing with my arms as if this were a professional match, and I am the coach. When Gabriel scores again, he makes a show of it, puffing his chest out and then fist bumping with Martin. Fuck, what’s the score? One hundred to zero? I need to do something. My feelings are aggravated. I can’t stand the crackdown anymore.
Good thing I’m wearing my sneakers, leggings, and a sports bra under my grey T-shirt.
“David,” I call him. “Come here!”
This is going to end right the fuck now.
“Baby, I’m busy,” he replies while running behind Martin, but his brother is way faster. What is happening? Are they scoring again?
Someone, please kill me now!
“David, come here!” This time, he pays attention and comes jogging toward me, while drying his sweaty face with his T-shirt.
“What happened?”
I haul him outside the line. “You’re going to stay here. You are a disaster out there, and I can’t stand it anymore.”
He frowns. “What?”
“I’m playing,” I reply with a shrug. “You’re the worst playerever, David. Ever.”
Gabriel, Martin, and Ruben greet me, whistling and booing David. They can do whatever they want to. But this match is about to get turned upside down.
“Get ready, Ruben,” I yell to the younger Posada. “Do as I say.”
Thank God he does. Soon we are scoring and giving Gabriel and Martin a run for their money. I love doing this, giving two fucks about being the ideal of composure, make-up, trends, and all that stuff. I’m a woman in my own terms. I’m the kind of gal who loves the outdoors and being messy. I care very little about my haircut or if my nails aren’t perfectly manicured.
Yes, I’m still a woman.
If David really loves me, he will accept me the way I am.
Chapter Nineteen
David
We won, and it was because of her.
I feel like a million dollars because of her.
She’s the sun and all the fucking stars.
Melanie’s glorious hair is up in a ponytail with some strands flying everywhere as she runs to score another goal, with Gabriel sprinting behind her, trying to stop her. I think my brother is doing a good job, but my girl is so freaking amazing. How she isn’t doing this professionally is beyond me.
“Your woman just kicked you right in the ass,” Gabriel jokes as he comes jogging to grab something to drink. It’s scorching hot around here. My gaze is glued on Melanie and how those leggings adjust to that peachy ass like a second skin.
“I’m so proud of her.” It feels so well saying it out loud.
My brother gives me a knowing smile. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
“I am,” I reply without shame. That’s the truth. I’m crazy in love with Melanie.
“Does she know it?”
“She does.” I’ve shown her repeatedly how much she means to me.
