First of April. Wednesday. Tomorrow.
Tomorrow was the day when Clara was going to play against Real Madrid at Camp Nou. The goal difference was wide, so the culés weren't really nervous. They actually enjoyed playing against Real Madrid. It was the easiest way of getting their ego fed — winning by many goals against the team they despised the most.
Still, Clara was nervous. That's why she asked you to stay the night, and you accepted happily.
It was known she was going to start, by the way she had been playing and filling Aitana's gap — gaining the felicitats talk from the three-consecutive-balon d'or- winner.
Clara had woken you up at six, unable to stay still, too excited thinking about the day after today. You didn't complain, though, how could you? Not only she was going to play at the Camp Nou, but she was gaining her spot on the first team and people were starting to compare her to Alexia and Patri — and not only because the physical resemblance between the three of them.
You made breakfast for the two of you, insisting Clara to at least chew the food, instead of just swallowing it all, but anxiety overtook her usually calm nature.
Clara was always sweet, even when she was stressed.
After training, she came back home and you awaited her with some food again. And due to freeing some endorphins on the previous training session, she ate in a much more calmer way.
"I'm not going to say that I'm not enjoying this, because I am. But, sometimes I miss the calmness of the B's team. I know I'm already eighteen and I being on the first team, means I'm already in my way of success, but… it feels to much."
You approached her, leaving some soft kisses in her front and quick pecks on her lips.
"I have talked to Alexia and she told me that she went through the same thing— partially— and that I'll get used to it."
Clara looked at you, but you didn't have the words to meet what she needed right now.
"Don't you miss the old me?"
"What?"
"I mean. I'm still me. But I have lesser time for everyone and everything, including you. I keep missing out more hangouts with our friends… Sometimes I don't feel like a normal eighteen year old girl."
"Because you aren't. You're working hard to create a future for yourself. Unlike most of the people our age, you got the opportunity to do so at a very young age. You still go to university, and make plan with us, but still, you got the best opportunity for your future. You aren't the typical eighteen-year-old girl, but because you are three steps ahead. And that comes with both opportunities and responsibilities. I don't blame you for missing how everything used to be or being scared of what's happening next. And yes, I sometimes miss you—miss us, just us— I would lie to you if I said I didn't. But I'm very happy knowing you're succeeding, mostly because I grew up with you, and I've always noticed how hard you worked for this. Clarita meva, tomorrow is your day. Enjoy it to the fullest. Do it scared. But the important thing is that you do it."
You didn't have time to think where the hell of those words came from because Clara threw herself onto your arms, mumbling a moved «thank you».
"I'm always going to be by your side. Always. Tomorrow I'll be in the stands, next our families, vale? I'm not missing out my girlfriend's match for anything else in the world."
"You don't want to miss the moment where I dedicate you a goal?"
"Having the honour of having my favourite midfielder dedicating me a goal at the Camp Nou? There's no way I'm missing out that opportunity."
