no, you cannot report the most disgusting and shockingly vile fanfic on ao3. ao3 will not do anything about the fic, because ao3 explicitly allows it to exist on their platform.

being completely and utterly against censorship is the main core principle of ao3.

ao3 was created specifically to host and give a platform to fics that were banned on other platforms.

therefore the most disgusting and shockingly vile fanfic you find is the exact reason why ao3 was created in the first place.

— get a job(e) !

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, choking, sexual photography, praise

pairing: jobe bellingham x fem!reader

summary: y/n gets a job as the photographer for dortmund, and attracts the eyes of a certain midfielder.

masterlist

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Single! Mother Reader

W.C 3,410

a/n: I originally planned for this to be two parts, but I love writing this so much that this won't be the last part! So part three will be out soon!

Part One

Bend It Like Bellingham

JOBE BELLINGHAM — STRANGLEHOLD.

summary 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ while watching your boyfriend practice for the upcoming season, you found yourself getting a little too distracted by the way his arms looked in a sleeveless top.

warnings 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ established relationship, unprotected sex, fem reader, choking, multiple orgasms, mirror sex, dirty talk, praise kink, a lil bit of begging, CONSENT was verbally given, pet names, manhandling. let me know if i need to add any other warnings! (wc 2.3k)

note 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ NOT PROOFREAD; not too sure if i am fully confident that i did this justice but i wanted to get it out anyways. this fic is based on this anon ask—thank you so much!

The hot afternoon sun hung low over the training pitch, the air muggy with shouted instructions and the constant thud of footballs against boots. You’d been mindlessly watching for nearly an hour, perched on the edge of the stands with your chin resting in your hand, barely paying attention to anything except your boyfriend, Jobe.

Now I expect someone to take me on a date to Paris and win plushies for me

the shiny pawn between your fingers stares back at you like a taunt. your eyes are zoomed in on your boyfriend opposite you, an amused look in his eyes as he waits for you to decide where to put the piece.

Heavy - Jobe Bellingham drabble

Fluff

Authors Note: im absolute shit at naming what i write but i have to make do😭😭 anyways this is part 2 of the request to whoever requested the jobe bf headcanons, its really short

It was a chill saturday afternoon. You hadn't done much, ran one or two errands, y'know groceries and stuff, and had spent the day mostly in your apartment. Around lunch, you'd fallen asleep. What shook you out of the slumber was the sound of the door opening.

You panicked a bit at first, then you heard the jingle of the keys and realised it was just Jobe using what he liked to call his "boyfriend privileges" again. Not long after, the man himself walked into your room, grinning when he saw you awake and immediately crawling on your bed, laying on top of you, effectively trapping you under him.

You let him rest on your chest for a minute or two, having not seen him in two days but after the third minute your body was irking to move just a bit.

"Jobe move over please"

"Nope."

"What do you mean no? Move over come onn"

"Nuh uh. Why would I? I'm right where I wanna be."

"Jobe, you're heavy. You're crushing me."

"But it's comfortable here." You let out a sigh and he lifted his head up, to look up at you. "Come on, do you really actually want me to move over?"

"No, it's fine. Stay." You relented with a small roll of your eyes. He laughed, his hands tightening their grip on your hips.

He pressed a kiss to your collarbone, humming quietly before setting his head back down again, nuzzling in the crook of your neck. "Missed you."

You let out a small snort at his muffled voice, your fingers scratching softly at the back of his neck where his hairline started. "Missed you too, Jobe."

Please give me more jobe Bellingham like omg plzzzz

The quietest boy in France - Michael Olise

main masterlist | football masterlist

The final whistle had barely finished echoing around the stadium before the atmosphere inside France's dressing room dissolved into organised chaos.

Somewhere near the showers, Ousmane was already arguing, far louder than necessary, that the referee had ignored at least three fouls on him. Theo had disappeared with a towel thrown over his shoulders, still shaking his head at whatever story Jules was dramatically reenacting to anyone willing to listen. Empty water bottles rolled lazily across the tiled floor every time someone accidentally kicked one, boots were abandoned wherever players had decided to take them off, and the sharp smell of fresh grass mixed with deep heat, muscle spray and shampoo drifted through the room.

Music blasted from a speaker someone had connected to without asking, loud enough that nobody could quite agree on what song was actually playing.

France had qualified top of the group.

Nobody was in any rush to leave.

Laughter bounced off every wall, cameras from the team's media crew occasionally slipping inside to capture little moments for social media before being politely ushered back out again.

Michael sat quietly at his locker.

Exactly where he always did.

His jersey clung to his skin, still damp from ninety minutes of football as he slowly unlaced one boot after the other. The noise around him barely registered anymore. After years in football, dressing rooms had become white noise, loud enough that they somehow felt peaceful.

He reached for his phone almost automatically.

His thumb hovered over your name for barely a second before pressing call.

The phone rang once.

Twice.

By the third ring, his shoulders had begun to sink ever so slightly, the smallest hint of disappointment creeping in.

Then—

Your face appeared.

The picture shook slightly as you adjusted your phone, clearly walking somewhere before finally settling down.

"There he is."

You smiled the second you saw him.

Not the polite smile you gave players during interviews.

Not the one cameras usually caught.

This one was different.

Your eyes softened almost immediately, the corners crinkling just enough to make that tiny dimple appear in your left cheek, the one he always insisted was his favourite thing about your smile, even though you rolled your eyes every single time he mentioned it.

"There he is," you repeated, tilting your head. "Look at you."

Michael couldn't help it.

The corner of his mouth lifted.

Then the other.

"Hi."

"Hi?" You laughed. "That's all I get after you disappear for two hours?"

"We were playing."

"I know."

"I was busy."

"Oh really? I had no idea."

A quiet chuckle escaped him.

"I watched the match, by the way."

"I assumed."

"You looked good."

"I looked tired."

"You looked good and tired."

He shook his head.

"You always have something to say."

"I literally get paid to."

That earned another laugh.

A real one.

One that made him lean back against the locker with a hand covering his mouth for a second.

Across the room, Kylian happened to glance over.

His conversation stopped mid-sentence.

"...Did he just laugh?"

Bradley frowned.

"What?"

"Kylian," Ousmane sighed dramatically, "people laugh."

"No." Kylian pointed across the room without taking his eyes off Michael. "Not him."

Almost on cue, another laugh escaped Michael as you said something else.

Then another.

His shoulders relaxed completely, his posture losing the stiffness it carried during every interview. One elbow rested lazily against his knee as he listened to you ramble about a questionable refereeing decision, nodding every few seconds despite the fact you couldn't even see half of it through the screen.

"So..." you continued, narrowing your eyes playfully. "Explain something to me."

He smiled.

"What?"

"What exactly was that shot in the sixty-third minute?"

"My shot?"

"Was that your attempt at football?"

"It was blocked."

"It was going wide."

"It wasn't."

"It absolutely was."

"It wasn't."

"It absolutely—"

"You're impossible."

"I prefer observant."

"You prefer annoying."

"I can be both."

His laugh came quicker this time.

Louder.

Enough that almost the entire dressing room turned.

Silence spread in waves.

One by one.

Theo looked over.

Then Jules.

Then Warren.

Then Désiré.

Even Didier Deschamps, halfway through congratulating one of the staff members, paused for the briefest moment, his eyes drifting toward the corner of the room.

Michael Olise...

...was talking.

Not answering questions.

Talking.

Properly.

Sentence after sentence.

His hands even moved while he spoke.

Kylian slowly folded his arms.

"I genuinely didn't know he could form paragraphs."

Ousmane blinked.

"Forget paragraphs..."

He pointed dramatically across the room.

"...He's smiling."

Every head turned again.

Sure enough...

Michael hadn't noticed a single pair of eyes on him.

His entire attention remained fixed on the tiny rectangle in his hand.

"So..." he said, a grin still tugging at his lips. "You weren't even there and somehow you've still got opinions about everything."

"I always have opinions."

"I noticed."

"You should've squared the ball to Kylian."

"He told me the same thing."

"See?"

"I think you're conspiring."

"Obviously."

He shook his head, smiling to himself.

"I miss you."

The words slipped out so naturally he didn't even realise he'd said them.

Your expression softened instantly.

The teasing disappeared.

"I know."

Your voice was quieter now.

"I missed being there today too."

"I kept looking for you."

"You did?"

He nodded without thinking.

"Every time we scored."

The smile on your face grew impossibly softer.

"I'll be there next match."

"I know."

"You'll probably tell me everything I did wrong again."

"Every single thing."

"I thought so."

Another laugh.

Kylian looked genuinely offended.

He glanced around the room before dramatically throwing both hands into the air.

"Who is this man?"

The entire dressing room burst into laughter.

Michael finally looked up.

Only then did he realise every single one of his teammates had completely abandoned whatever they were doing to stare at him.

"What?"

Ousmane stepped forward first.

"No, no, no."

He pointed at the phone.

"Put her on speaker."

Michael frowned.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because."

Kylian was already laughing.

"We've just witnessed you speak more in the last five minutes than you've spoken all training camp."

"That's not true."

"It absolutely is."

Michael sighed.

"You lot are unbelievable."

Before anyone could reply, your voice drifted clearly through the phone.

"Leave my boyfriend alone."

The room froze for exactly one second.

Then Désiré clutched his chest dramatically.

"Oh, she's defending him!"

Theo started laughing so hard he nearly dropped the bottle in his hand.

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling the warmth creeping up his neck.

"They're never going to let this go."

"No," you laughed, the sound filling his ear through the speaker. "They're absolutely going to bully you for the rest of the tournament."

He looked around at twenty-something grown men grinning at him like children who'd just discovered the world's biggest secret.

Then he looked back at your face on the screen.

For maybe the first time all evening, the noise of the dressing room faded into the background again.

He smiled.

"I can live with that."

Pairing: Jobe Bellingham x Fem!Reader

WC: 2.7K

Warnings: sex is mentioned but there is NO SMUT in this, mentions of reader getting cheated on by former boyfriends, fluff, ash and jude are trying to be cupid, mentions of drinking wine, reader and jobe are frickin cute and shy together bless them, no mentions of y/n

!!!NOT PROOFREAD!!! THERE MAY BE GRAMMAR ERRORS

Summary: You’ve never had the best of luck when it comes to relationships but being best friends with Ashlyn and Jude means they make it their mission to set you up with Jobe.

''You've been single for how long? Almost a year?''

You looked up from your phone, eyes squinting at Ashlyn who was sitting next to you.

''Yes, fortunately I have been single for a year. Thanks for reminding me, Ash.'' You threw your head back, already dreading the topic of boys and relationships.

Believe it or not, you weren't the best when it came to relationships. Yes, boys liked you enough to get into relationships but they never liked you enough to stay. Once you were set that you found the ''love of your life'', it always ended up in Ashlyn and Jude trying to comfort you, telling you the same phrases over and over again.

The last time you got with a guy who you were for certain was the one ended up cheating on you with his ex and unfortunately you called him while they were sleeping together.

Ever since then, you swore that you were bad luck and decided to walk away from the concept of love. All you do is third wheel when you go out with Jude and Ashlyn and you do feel bad because you knew deep down they wanted you gone so they could do all the lovey dovey stuff without making you feel uncomfortable but you didn't have anything else better to do.

You've been pretty good at keeping your heart to yourself for a year or so.

''I'm not saying it like it's a bad thing. It just shows you're certain on what you want, you're not hesitant. You know how to keep yourself safe.'' She shrugged, silently thanking Jude as he brought over three mugs of coffee.

''She's not wrong- I mean most lads I know on the England team like girls who play hard to get but they don't know how to work relationships most of the time.'' Jude called out from the kitchen, searching the drawers for something. ''Ash, love- where's the little thing you got for your coffee that stirs when you press its button?''

''In the second drawer, babe.'' She smiled, looking over at him.

You could always see the looks of love Jude and Ashlyn gave each other which puts you in a ''I miss being a girlfriend'' mood. You've always admired their relationship, putting them as a role model for yourself in a way. You were happy for them and that's all that mattered for you.

''You guys act like you lot are already married and it makes me single than ever.'' You scoffed, taking a sip of your coffee after letting it cool down.

''Oh, don't worry. You'll have your perfect Prince Charming soon, just because it's taking time doesn't mean it won't come true.'' Jude called out from the kitchen, leaning on the counter and smirking.

''Which brings me to my next point, you've... healed. It took you some time to get to that point which is totally understandable because the last guy you dated was a complete jerk- Actually most of the guys you've pursued a romantic relationship with have been all jerks.'' Ashlyn cleared her throat. ''But, that's not the point. You smile more. You laugh more. You go out more. And when a song comes up on the radio that reminds you of any of your exes, you don't care to skip it anymore.''

''Okay- I still do that.''

''Not as often as you used to. You take care of yourself now.''

You nodded, thinking about how good you've felt the past year without a guy pestering your well-being and mental health. Ashlyn wasn't wrong. You were better physically and mentally, you were healthy but you were wondering why out of all days she was choosing right now to talk about your love life.

''You deserve love that's meant for you and fulfills you as well. It's time for you to get a new boyfriend that is going to be WAY better than all of your past ones.'' Ashlyn put her phone down, folding her hands in front of her as she smirked, looking at Jude.

You groaned loudly, dragging a hand over your face as you closed you eyes. You know there was no avoiding this conversation when it came up.

''I already told you guys I'm fine being single! It's really not a big deal, I think I was just made to give love more than I was to receive it.''

Ashlyn interrupted you. ''What do you think about Jobe?''

You blinked slowly, trying to process her words.

''Jobe.. as in- Jude's brother? As in Jobe Bellingham that's currently upstairs hogging Jude's Playstation right now and probably playing FIFA?''

''Ding, ding, ding!'' Jude's voice boosted through the dining room, hitting the table with his knuckles like he was giving a drumroll.

''He's..'' You trailed off suddenly finding interest in the fruit bowl on the table. ''Nice, decent.'' You looked up at Jude and Ash, smiling at you like they were hoping for a more detailed answer.

Your confused expression quickly shifted away like you've just solved a hard puzzle.

''No.''

Jude raised an eyebrow. ''What do you mean- no?''

''I'm not getting with your brother, Jude!''

''Hate to break it to you but he likes you.'' Ashlyn butted in, giving you a ''sorry not sorry'' smile.

''No- Wha- you guys are insane, okay? He doesn't like me!''

''And why is that?'' Jude questioned, now taking a seat next across from Ashlyn.

''Because...'' You looked everywhere else but the couple that was siting in front of you. ''We're just mutual. Friends.'' You nodded.

''That's what they always say.'' Jude cleared his throat loudly, giving off the impression that it was on purpose and sarcastic.

Swallowing hardly, the image of Jobe becoming hazy in your mind. ''I mean.. he's cute.. and respectful.''

''SHE THINKS HE'S CUTE! SHE THINKS HE'S ATTRACTIVE! That's a start, that's great!'' Ashlyn clapped.

You weren't going to deny the charm Jobe had. Everytime you saw him at family dinners or back in Madrid for any family occasion, he always looked good to you. You saw how he looked out for his mom and Jude even though he was the younger one out of the both of them.

Although you didn't really talk to Jobe a lot, he was really gentle and nice with how he spoke to you whenever you guys had the chance to spark up some small talk. Not once did you see him rude to anyone in public.

You always got the relaxed vibe when you were with him during an event and all those times you had small talk with him, Jobe never judged you.

''You guys really think he would treat me well?''

''Yeah.'' Ashlyn and Jude nodded at the same time.

''And you guys really think he won't be a dick and go sleep with other girls?''

''Blimey, you're the only thing he basically talks about when you aren't hanging out over here.'' Jude laughed, he was acting like it was the most hilarious thing ever. ''It's always something like- ''When is she coming back again?'' or ''Oh- she posted something new on Instagram but I'm too scared to follow her.'' It's noise pollution.'' He put on a high pitched voice.

''Okay well.. Jude the last time I recalled- Before you got with Ashlyn and had this mega crush on her, she was the only thing you were talking about when I was here. So, stop making fun of your brother.'' You sighed, becoming weirdly defensive.

''And the lady's already getting defensive over my brother.''

''Am not!''

''Are too!''

''GUYS! YOU'RE FALLING OFF TOPIC!'' Ashlyn raised her hands. ''Hypothetically, if Jobe asked you out on a date, would you say yes?''

You bit the inside of your mouth, you didn't expect a guy to want to date you after a year of getting rejected by your exes. ''I- Sure. Why not?'' You hesitated a bit before saying yes, it felt crazy but it felt right at the same time. ''He's a sweet guy and I should be lucky to have this opportunity even if it doesn't turn out great in the end.''

Immediately, the nerves started to meet your body. Your stomach tingled and you didn't know how this was going to play out, you knew there would be consequences to your decision and you were tired of being last. All you could do was sit and go with the flow.

-

3 days later, you were balled up on your sofa, blanket covering your shivering body while you were watching one of your comforting movies you loved to binge-watched.

You were minding your own business on a quiet Friday when suddenly you felt your phone buzz in your lap. An unknown number had texted you. Becoming suspicious, you unlocked your phone to view the message.

hey, this is jobe. ash gave me your number, hope i'm not bothering you or anything.

''Bloody hell, of course she gave you my number.'' You mumbled to yourself, pausing your movie to text him back.

oh no worries, jobe. it was nice of her to give you my number.

phew, i wanted to ask you something.

You swore you felt your heart stop for a moment. You knew this event was going to meet you one day, even Jude and Ashlyn warned you about this. You didn't understand why you were getting so nervous.

''Focus.'' You told yourself.

hit me, what's up?

i was wondering if you wanted to check out that new italian restaurant that just opened? just me and you. tomorrow 7pm, i'll pick you up.

Despite your brain going into fight or flight mode over this, you smiled brightly as if you were waiting for this since forever.

sure, i would love that. see you then!

You sent the message and turned off your phone.

-

''What if it's awkward and we don't have anything to talk about then it blows up in our faces and he never calls me back for a second date ever again, Ash?'' You said, mumbling as you applied your lip gloss.

''It's not gonna blow up in your face or his! Just go with the flow and if it doesn't work out.. then it's okay and life has to keep moving.'' Ashlyn firmly nodded.

Ashlyn was currently at your house, helping you get ready for the date. She helped pick out a red mini dress that wasn't too flashy but not too simple. Your hair was in a half up half down in a blowout and you felt like a new person.

''You really think this is gonna be a success?'' You questioned.

''I know so.''

Jobe texted you, giving you the green light that he was here and ready to pick you up.

''Eek! Okay, here I go. Wish me luck, and on your way out my house, lock the door please?'' You hugged Ashlyn tightly after spraying a bunch of perfume on you.

You grabbed your mini purse before walking out the door carefully. Once you walked outside, Jobe was leaning on his car, looking like he's been waiting for you all his life.

''Woah.'' You heard him whisper under his breath. He shook his head shortly. ''Hey, you look amazing.''

You brightened at his compliment. ''You don't look bad yourself.''

''Ready?'' He opened the passenger seat door for you which shocked you because you couldn't recall the last time a guy's done that for you before.

''Thank you.''

-

The rest of the night passed by in a blurb. You and Jobe surprisingly had a million of things you guys could talk about starting from funny moments with Jude to deciding what movie you both would live in for a day and why.

The date was going perfectly the way you wanted it to and it was melting your heart. Laughter was heard from the table every second, you were starting to admire Jobe and his personality and the way he spoke and his smile.

You knew it was a bad thing to instantly fall head over heels for a guy on the first date.

But what you didn't know and understand was that Jobe has been falling head over heels for you ever since you became a close friend of Jude's. He admired the way your hair fell down your shoulders when you turned to face anyone you were talking to and he loved the way a room could instantly brighten up once you entered.

And as you two shared the night with pasta and wine, he was falling even harder now.

''You know, I've been wanting to ask you on a date like this for awhile.''

''Why didn't you do it sooner? I mean- I'm not scary. At least I hope I'm not.'' You laughed slightly, taking a small sip of your wine.

''No.. you're definitely the opposite of scary. My brother told me to stop overthinking it, my thoughts were getting the best of me.''

You quickly laughed, moving a strand of hair out of your face.

''So, does this mean you'll finally follow me on Insta after years of pining?'' You smirked.

Your knee found his, none of you moving away from each other from under the table.

''How could I not when you say it like that?''

''Looks like I'll be posting way more than usual once I get the notification that you followed me.'' You shrugged, finishing the rest of your pasta.

After more sprinkles of laughter and jokes, Jobe stood up from his seat after paying. ''Ready to go?''

You nodded, his hand finding yours and walking to his car.

-

You didn't expect you and Jobe to spend the car ride back to your house blasting pop-girl music and shouting at the top of your lungs. You laughed so hard you swore you were growing abs by the minute. As the car came to a stop in front of your house, Jobe killed the engine and turned to you.

''I hope you had a great time. And if you didn't then- I'm sorry it didn't meet your expectations.''

You looked at him, tilting your head slowly.

''You think I wasn't having a good time? Half of the time we were in the restaurant I was hoping that the night wouldn't end. I'm glad you took a risk and finally asked me out.'' You confessed. ''I was worrying if I was falling too quickly for you.''

''Really?''

''Really.''

''So you would want to go out on a second date with me?''

''Yes, Jobe. I would want to go out on a second date and obviously many more to come.'' You nodded eagerly, your face hurting because of how much you were smiling. ''You have my heart already- after one date. Relax, I'm not going anywhere.''

Jobe's eyes looked down at your lips then up back to your eyes. ''C'mon, I'll walk you to your door.'' He quickly got out of the car and met with the passenger door handle to open it for you.

As you walked to your front door with Jobe, you got a grip of his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. ''Oh- and you really weren't joking about that alfredo that was probably the most immaculate thing I've tasted.'' You giggled, your body turning towards his as you both stopped on the porch.

''See, I told you I knew the best things on the menu.'' He shrugged.

"Today was amazing and I mean it Jobe. Thank you for showing me that first dates aren't all bad after a year of being single.''

Jobe pushed your hair back behind your ear and kissed your cheek. His hand caressed your waist slowly. ''Glad you were brave enough.'' He whispered low into your ear.

''Call me when you're back home? I wanna show you my comic collection I was raving about earlier, trust me I'm not lying when I say my shelves filled.'' You bit your lower lip already smiling ear to ear.

''Of course, I'll call you. Can't wait to see it.''

You unlocked the door with your keys you had in your purse while grinning and entered your house, closing the door. You leaned your back against the door, head resting on the wood replaying the whole day from top to this point. You instantly took out your phone to text Ashlyn.

this is certainly and definitely the one.

Sending the text, you were already getting a Instagram notification and a call from Jobe that would soon turn into a call that consisted of giggles and deep conversations.

lovina speaks!: this was definitely an idea ive had my mind on for awhile!! i hope you guys like it!! thank you so much for all the likes and support 💗

— lovina writes 2026

"From King Aemond."

"King?" You frown, looking at the young squire for confirmation, which he gives with a slow nod of his head.

"Yes, my lady," Daeron says, brows pinching, mimicking your bewilderment. "The messenger said so himself when he delivered the letter to Lord Ormund."

You huff, the news rattling you a bit, sighing as if the weight of what must've transpired back in King's Landing is already heavy to carry. "Gods helps us all."

I need more Dareon fics guys, he is literally my son omg im so in my mother era

you truly don’t know how you ended up here. the cover of the mattress awkwardly sticks to your sweaty back, your smaller hands holding onto erling’s bigger shoulders.

school trip romance- lamine yamal

⚽️⚽️⚽️

A school trip was always fun. A school trip to Barcelona, Spain: beyond that.

In April of my junior year, my high school announced its annual international trip during the morning announcements.

“Now, the news you’ve all been waiting for. Our school’s international trip location next year is… Barcelona, Spain! The applications open up tomorrow at 8 AM. More details will be in an email sent later tonight. Have a good rest of your Tuesday!”

My friends and I couldn’t contain our excitement. All of us had told each other we’d apply for whatever trip the school chose for our senior year. Now that we knew it would be in Spain, we were ecstatic.

I filled out the application by the end of the week. My parents were hesitant about the projected price, but I assured them I would work my ass off to pay for the trip myself. 

About a month later, the email dropped during my pre-calculus class, telling us if we had gotten into the trip. I hesitantly opened the email, but was elated when the word “Congrats!” was the first word I read.

“I got in!” I exclaimed. My other friends joined in the joyous celebrations because they, too, had gotten in. We were all going to Spain together. Life couldn’t get any better than this.

—————

“We are currently descending upon our destination of Barcelona, Spain. Please fasten your seatbelts. Thank you,” the pilot announced over the intercom. As I clicked my seatbelt into place, I looked out my window and was greeted with the view of the vast expanse of Barcelona, Spain.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful,” I said to my friend, who sat to my right. She peered over my shoulder, also gawking at the beautiful foreign city below us.

We finally landed in Josep Tarradellas Barcelona-El Prat Airport, wheeling our luggage through the massive building. We finally made it to the exit of the airport, where our tour guide’s bus was waiting for our arrival. They were taking us straight to the hotel, since we landed in the nation at 6 PM. 

Once we arrived at our hotel, my teacher stopped the group of 20 of us before we could exit the vehicle. He informed us we had the freedom to go anywhere for dinner that night and explore a bit, but we had to be back by 10:00 PM. The teachers would also text us every 2 hours to check in. As their explanation wrapped up, they handed us 20 Euros for our dinner expenses that night. If we went over, we had to use our own funds. 

My friends and I quickly put our bags in our rooms so we could head out on the town. We decided to eat at this restaurant/bar that had high Google ratings and was only a few minutes' walk from the hotel.

My friends and I had vowed that on this trip, we were going to have the best time, which included having a good time at the bars at night. I mean, our plan wasn’t necessarily illegal. The legal drinking age in Spain is 18, which the 6 of us are. But drinking on the trip is strictly against school policy. To prevent our chaperones from finding out, we just had to be sneaky and not get stumbly-drunk. That’s all. 

The bar was pretty separate from the restaurant, so our dinner wasn’t mingling with the bar-goers. Once we finished up our delicious meals, we headed to the other half of the establishment.

The bar was full of chatter, Spanish music, and many people our age. We scanned the drink menu and decided to get some fizzy, fruity drinks that were also common finds in the US: a nice way to ease into the new country. 

“I can order for the 6 of us. We can just split the bill 6 ways at the end of the night,” I offered, which my friends happily agreed to. I went up to the bartender and ordered 3 raspberry White Claws, 2 blackberry ones, and one strawberry one. 

“Pretty creative drink selection,” a man commented on my right. He had also just finished ordering from the bartender and was now awaiting his drinks.

“What’s wrong with a couple of White Claws?” I sarcastically replied. The man chuckled, a toothy grin accompanying the laugh.

“Tourist, huh?” he inquires, obviously knowing the answer.

“Yeah, we are. We’re technically here on a school trip, though,” I reply as his eyes widen.

“Your school’s letting you drink on a school trip? Are you in uni or something?” he asks, bewildered. 

“No to both, actually. We’re doing the number 1 thing they told us not to do, but as long as no one tattles, we’re good,” I reply, a grimaced look stretching across my face. Why’d I tell this stranger all this stuff? 

I looked over at the stranger, an amused smile etching his face.

“I like you. If I were in your shoes, I’d never have the balls to do that. Plus, my school’s hella strict anyway. They’d have access to every security camera in the city to track us down,” he replies. I look at him, confusion stretching across my face.

“Wait, you’re in high school, too?” I turn my body to fully face the man. 

“Here in Spain, we call it bachillerato, but yes, I am.” He also turns his body to completely face mine as he responds.

“Lamine,” he introduces himself as he sticks out his hand to give me a handshake. I gladly accept, and reply by telling him my own name. As we do so, our respective bartenders hand us our drinks.

The rest of the night, I talk to my new friend, Lamine. He tells me all about bachillerato, and I tell him all about high school. He basically just asked me if it was like the movies, and I explained how some parts were, and some weren’t. He also told me how he played soccer, or as he called it, fútbol. He explained to me how it was his one true passion and how he’d been playing since he could walk. 

“The last time I played soccer competitively, sorry- fútbol- was when I was like 8. I only played cause my league gave out donuts afterwards,” I confess, which made Lamine laugh really hard. 

“The ones with sprinkles?” he questions further.

“Oh, you know it.” He laughs again, and I join him. Our conversations had flown exceptionally well throughout the night, as if we had known each other prior to tonight. 

Then, amidst another one of our conversations, my friend tapped my shoulder and informed me that we needed to leave so we could make it back to the hotel on time.

“Sorry, I gotta go. It was amazing getting to know you, though,” I said, getting up from my seat at our two-seater table.

“Me too! Before you go, though, let me give you my Snapchat so we can keep in touch. Maybe we could meet up another time before you go?” he suggests. I nod in agreement, handing him my phone so he can input his information. 

“See you later, Lamine!” I waved to the man as I exited the bar with my friends. He waved back, a huge smile sweeping across his face. A similar one etched across mine, as well.

————

“So, who was that cutie you were chatting with at the bar?” My friend, who’s also my roommate, asked once we had gotten settled for the night in our room. I blushed at the memories that flooded my head at his mention.

“Oh, that’s Lamine. He’s our same age and from around here. He’s so funny and incredibly sweet; he even gave me his Snapchat so we could keep in touch. He actually just texted me and said he wanted to see me again this week,” I relayed to my friend. 

“Well, did you stalk him on socials? You know, make sure he isn’t a creep or anything?” she asked. 

“To be completely honest, I didn’t think of doing that,” I replied, opening Snapchat to stare at his bitmoji and profile. It was a normal Snapchat for all accounts. His snap score, however, was a bit high, but I didn’t dwell on that too much. 

“Why not try? Better to be safe than sorry,” she said, absentmindedly scrolling through her photos app as she sorted through her photos from tonight.

“You know what, I agree. I’m gonna do it now,” I replied, swiping out of Snapchat and opening my Instagram. I typed his name into the search bar, not expecting to find anything. What came up, however, was the last thing I was expecting.

My mouth hung agape as I scrolled through his Instagram. I assumed it would take me a while to find his account, but it instead took me mere seconds. We also had mutual followers, like a lot of them.

“Oh. My. God,” were the only three words I could formulate.

“What? Is it bad?” my friend asked, placing her phone down and looking over at my phone screen from her bed.

“I mean, no, I don’t think so. He just has like 40 million followers because he’s a famous soccer player for Spain’s World Cup team and FC Barcelona,” I frantically explain.

“You’re fucking kidding.” She got out of bed to take a closer look at my phone screen. My brain couldn’t wrap around the fact that the man I had been so easily talking to all night was a professional soccer player. And a really good one for that matter. 

Almost on cue, Lamine texts me on Snapchat, asking me what my schedule is so we can plan our next hangout. 

“This is actually out of a fucking movie. Holy shit. You were flirting with a World Cup soccer player all night! Happy first day of the trip to you!” my roommate squealed, flopping herself back onto her bed.

“Yeah,” I sat there in complete shock. This amazingly kind stranger I hit it off with at the bar was a soccer superstar. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact. 

The rest of the night, I stalked him on every social media platform I could find: bad idea. He had been in public relationships with a some stunning women in the past. He didn’t have the photos with them on his Instagram anymore, but TikToks about his relationship timelines still had all the evidence. All I did was sit and overthink our night together. 

Was he just being friendly? Did I misread his signs as flirtatious? Wait, I shouldn’t be thinking like this at all. I mean, for God’s sake, I had only spoken to this man for a few hours at a bar! I barely even know him!

In between my stalking, I was texting Lamine on Snapchat. Pretty creepy, I know. We genuinely talked for so long, and each flirty text he sent made my heart flutter. 

This was gonna be a long week.

————

Lamine and I decided to meet up the next evening. We had free time before we had to meet up for nightly check-ins, so he took me to a park he recommended. We got some fun smoothies at a place he liked, and walked around the park with those drinks. 

“This place is beautiful,” I said, looking around the park.

“It’s my favorite place mi madre used to take me to when I was a kid,” he said, taking a sip of his perfectly concocted drink. 

“That drink you ordered sounds so good. I mean, I would’ve never thought to combine guava juice with strawberry puree, but it sounds incredible,” I note, looking at his pink and orange-colored drink. 

“You wanna sip?” he asks, tilting his cup towards me.

“Oh, sure,” I reply, surprised. I wasn’t expecting him to offer me a sip, but I gladly accepted. The drink tasted just as good as I imagined. 

“Holy shit, Lamine. That’s good,” I say after I swallow the liquid. I felt his lingering stare on me after I drank the smoothie, which made my face heat up. 

“Is there something on my face?” I ask, wiping around my face to feel if anything was truly on my face.

“No, you just look beautiful,” he commented. If my face wasn’t already red, it definitely was now.

“Lamine, stop it,” I said, hitting his shoulder playfully. He gasped like my hit actually hurt him. 

The next day we went to brunch at a local spot. The day after, we went night swimming in the Gulf of Valencia. Were we supposed to be swimming? No. Did we get caught? No. So, no harm no foul! 

The day after our night swim, Lamine told me he could only hang out in the early afternoon due to prior commitments in both the morning and the evening. So, the only time we could see each other was in the early afternoon. That would not, however, work with my schedule due to my school’s pre-planned excursion to Mercat de la Boqueria. This was a very famous market in Barcelona, which is why we were going there to learn about the place and its history.

When we entered the building, I was taken aback by its pure being. The market was gorgeous. All the food smelled delicious. The items they sold were stunning. I was beyond ecstatic to explore the market. 

My friends and I were walking through the market with our tour guide as he explained the extensive history of the establishment. We gawked at basically everything we saw and heard from the guide. As I examined one of the stands from afar, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see which one of my friends it was, but I was instead met with the beaming face of Lamine. 

“Fancy seeing you, here,” Lamine continued to beam, a sly tone present in his voice. My eyes widened in shock. I immediately grabbed his bicep and pulled him to the back of my group before I responded, making sure he was generally out of my teachers’ line of sight. 

“Lamine! What are you doing here?” I whisper-yelled at the man.

“I’m just here to shop!” he lied straight through his teeth.

“For what?” I interrogated, more playful now. 

“Hmm, let's see… some bread, carrots, and… bananas?” He came up with random foods off the top of his head. We both giggled at the stupidity.

“You never told me you were gonna meet me here! If my school finds out you’re here to see me, they’ll be so angry. We could’ve planned it better,” I reply.

“Wow, what makes you think I’m here to see you? I just told you I was here to buy bread, cheese, and bananas, and I just happened to run into you, beautiful.” He grazed over the word as if it were the most natural thing in the world, even as my stomach erupted in butterflies.

“Umm, you actually said carrots, not cheese,” I teased as he rolled his eyes. 

“They both start with ‘c,’ they’re basically the same thing,” he replied. Lamine continued through the market the rest of the afternoon with me. He never left my side, even when my friends gave me knowing, smug glances.

After a few hours in the market, our teachers informed us that we only had a few minutes left before we had to depart. I pulled Lamine to the side where there were very few people, and told him the news. 

“I’ll text you tomorrow to see how we can coordinate to see each other,” he said, rubbing his thumbs along my knuckles. We were looking deep into each other’s eyes as both of our hands were grasped in the other’s. I could tell we both wanted to kiss each other, but we didn’t know how to say it. So, I took the liberty upon myself to do so. 

“Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I leaned up into him and placed a kiss on his lips. He wasn’t expecting the kiss, so he didn’t immediately kiss me back. I thought I had misread the signs he gave the past few days, so I began to pull away. As I began to do so, he immediately placed his hand on the back of my head, pulling me back in. We became lost in the kiss, smiling and laughing into the moment, too. 

Once we pulled away, he pulled me into a hug. He leaned close to my ear and whispered, “I’ve been wanting to do since we first met.” I couldn’t help but giggle as my face grew pink. 

“Me too, Lamine. But, I gotta go now,” I say as I begin to walk away from the soccer player’s embrace. He grabs me and pulls me into another kiss, which I don’t hesitate to accept. We pull away, and he continues to attack my lips with a lot of little pecks.

“Lamine! I’ve got to go! Stop it!” I exclaim, pathetically trying to push the man off of me, as I continue to erupt in fits of giggles.

“Fine,” he places a final, longer kiss on my lips. 

“I’ll text you when I get back to the hotel, okay?” I inform him, and he nods in response. I finally leave his embrace, waving bye to the man as we head our separate ways.

Once I made it back to the group, my teacher was already giving me a knowing look.

“Sorry, I got… lost in the crowd,” I lied. The teacher nodded sarcastically in my direction, then turned around to lead us out of the market. 

“Lost in the crowd? More like lost in Lamine's mouth!” my friend whisper-exclaimed into my ear. I gasped at her comment and hit her arm.

“Shut up!” I yelled at her in anger, even as a small smile etched across my lips. 

————

Each time Lamine and I hung out after that day, it was like I was living out a dream. Even if our hangouts lasted 3 hours or only 1 hour, we made the most of each one. I think I experienced more of Spain’s authentic side through Lamine than my school showed me. Through these hangouts, he eventually opened up to me about fútbol and his fame that came along with it. I just listened to him, allowing him to tell me everything- the good and the bad. He told me many times how he liked how I just listened, and didn’t give my opinion on every part of his public career. I was just glad he trusted me enough to open up like that. 

On the last day, Lamine and I had very conflicting schedules that didn’t allow us to hang out until the evening.  We were sad we only had a little time to hang out, but we were glad we did.

Little did Lamine know, however, that we would see each other before that evening. 

See, a part of the trip’s itinerary was to take us to a fútbol game because the sport was such an important part of the country’s culture. This game was Deportivo Alavés versus FC Barcelona, aka Lamine’s team. I decided not to tell him and make my appearance a surprise. 

For the afternoon match, I decided to wear a shirt Lamine had given me. It was an FC Barcelona t-shirt that resembled a jersey, with his name and number on the backside. 

I came out of the bathroom with the shirt on, and my roommate gave me a smug look. 

“Does he know we’re coming?” she asks, touching up her eye makeup.

“He has no clue,” I smugly reply, texting Lamine, “good luck” as I tell her. 

We arrived at the stadium early, so our tour guide could give us a tour of the stadium as well as explain the history and significance of fútbol in regards to Spanish culture. Every detail was fascinating, but my mind was focused on one particular person the whole time. 

After our brief history lesson, our tour guide brought us to the barricade so we could watch the players on both sides warm up. I immediately spot Lamine in the crowd of players, juggling the ball with practiced ease. There are other fans surrounding us, screaming his name among his teammates’ as well, trying to garner their attention. 

“Come on! You gotta yell for him to see you!” my friend nudges my shoulder.

“I don’t want to. I would lowkey feel rude. Plus, he won’t hear me over all these other fans,” I reply, my eyes still fixated on number 10 on the pitch. My friend nods in understanding as he relays her focus back to a guy on Deportivo Alavés who she thought was cute. 

My hope began to dwindle that Lamine would see me before the game as the warm up continued. I mean, it was partially my fault because I made no effort to make my presence known. But that just felt rude to me. So, I resorted to waving profusely every time he turned towards my direction. Could that be seen as even more obnoxious? To some, maybe, but I’d rather be waving than yelling. 

Towards the end of warmups, he got closer to the stands to do some sideline drills. Now, people were furiously yelling at him and his teammates to get their attention, since their proximity was much closer now. When Lamine completed his part in the sideline drill, he got to the back of the line and turned to face the crowd of fans. He smiled at the group and waved back at everyone. I continued to wave too- a bit embarrassingly-desperate, I might add- to get his attention. His eyes scanned from left to right as he waved at all the crowd. His sight landed on me, and I waved really feriociously at that moment. Lamine originally whisked his sight right over me, but almost immediately averted his gaze back to my frame after he did so. 

He squinted his eyes to see better, and once he realized it was me, his entire face grew bright in joy. My expression mirrored his, as I continued to wave at him from the stands.

Then, unexpectedly, he came up to the edge of the stands where I was to stand directly in front of me. The fans around me went crazy, my friends laughed knowingly, and everyone else in my school’s group stood incredibly dumbfounded at the sight unfolding in front of them.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” he exclaimed.

“I’m just here to watch a fútbol game,” I mocked the reply he gave me days prior at the market. He smiled, immediately catching the callback. 

“You don’t understand how happy I am that you’re here,” he replied, pink dusting my cheeks as he spoke. 

“Wait,” he abruptly said, “you guys should come on the pitch. Like, you and your whole group. You know, so you guys get the full experience.” Lamine winked. Before I could respond, he went over to the security guard and told him something I couldn’t make out, but his words prompted the security guard to open the gate to let us onto the pitch. Everyone in my group were both shocked but also extremely excited by our new view of the warm up. I was as well, but also even more excited to see Lamine again. 

I was one of the last people to make it onto the field where everyone was standing behind a rope. Once I made it to the barrier, Lamine wasted no time and immediately embraced me in a hug. I could tell he resisted the urge to attack the top of my head in kisses during the hug, but he knew many cameras were pointing their lens at us.

“This is the best surprise ever. I’m gonna have to play extra good now that you’re here,” he whispered into the hug.

“Yeah, you better. I can’t have you embarrassing me in front of my friends,” I teased, and all Lamine could do was laugh. 

“I mean, how could I not play well and embarrass you when you look that good in my jersey?” he smugly breathes into my ear. My face was beet red after that comment. We pulled away from the hug, his hand lingering on my arm longer than normal after we pulled away. 

“I wish you had told me earlier! I would’ve gotten you guys upgraded seats. Well, I at least would’ve tried to,” he informed me. 

“Lamine, that would’ve been incredibly kind of you, but we’re a-okay where we’re at now,” I rub his arm in reassurance.

“Ok. Ok. Well, I gotta go before coach kills me. See ya! I’ll text you after the game,” he says as he runs off towards his teammates. I nod in response as his eyes continue to linger on me as long as possible. The second he’s back on the pitch with his teammates, my teacher taps me on the shoulder, a bewildered look etched across her face. 

“I have no idea how or why you know him, but please extend him our heartfelt thanks for giving us this opportunity,” she told me.

“I will, don’t worry,” I reply, giggling. 

————

After the game, and once we were all settled in our hotel rooms, I got a text from Lamine. He told me that if I was free, which he knew I was, to meet him at this outdoor bar that wasn’t too far from my hotel. I agreed and made my way towards the establishment. Once I got there, I saw Lamine leaning against a fence, fully engrossed in whatever he was watching on his phone. 

“There’s my winner! Scoring two goals is so incredible! I’m so proud of you,” I say, raising my arms in the air. My comment catches his attention, as he raises his gaze away from his phone to me. 

“Ahh, stop it,” he brushes off the compliment, walking towards my open arms to embrace me in a hug. After a few seconds, we pull our heads out of the hug so we can embrace in a kiss. The kiss was joyous, passionate, and full of smiles. 

“I’ve been yearning to do that since I saw you in the stands in my jersey. It was the most attractive thing I’ve ever seen,” he says after we briefly break apart, lips only mere inches from each other. 

“You’re so cheesy,” was the only reply I could muster up, as my pink face leaned in for another quick kiss. We eventually begrudgingly tear away from one another, so he can lead me towards the entrance of the bar. We sat at an open two-top in the corner, where we could have as much seclusion and privacy as possible. We both ordered the same drink: one of Lamine’s favorites that he put me onto. 

Our conversation flowed as smoothly as it usually did. The conversation, however, was obviously avoiding the largest elephant in the room: my last day in Spain was today. As the evening drew on, I knew I had to be the one to rip the band-aid off about the forbidden topic.

“I can’t believe it's my last night here,” I comment after a beat of silence.

“Yeah, I try not to think about that,” he says, a hint of sadness lacing itself in his words. I reach my hand across the table to take his hand in mine. He absentmindedly begins to rub my knuckles with the pad of his thumb, more in comfort for himself than for me. 

“I know, ‘cause I try not to, too. But, it's ok! We can still call, text, and literally everything we do now when we’re not together in person. It will be harder, definitely, but we can do it,” I tried hard to reassure Lamine- and myself in the process- but we both knew it would be very hard to keep in touch when he was always six hours ahead of me. 

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll also send you my streaming login info so you can watch my games from home. It’ll give me motivation to score at least two goals each game when I know you’re watching across the ocean,” he jokes, which elicits a laugh from me even in this sad moment. 

“I’ll do anything that’ll help you score ‘cause it makes you happy. Seeing you happy, even if it’ll be through the screen, will make me happy,” I reply, a heartbroken smile stretching across my face. A breathy sigh escapes his lips, and I know he’s about to tell me something heartbreaking. 

“If I’m being completely honest with you right now, these past 10 days with you have been so amazing, I can hardly put into words how fantastic they have been. Being with you brings out a side of me I rarely see in myself anymore. Ever since I started playing fútbol professionally, I have had little time to find simple joy in my everyday life. Your presence alone has brought that spark back. I know this sounds dramatic, but being without your presence every day is gonna be really hard. You’re mere presence brought that joy out of me, and I don’t know if I’ll find it again when you leave,” Lamine spills his heart out to me, the heartbreak being present in every sentence he articulated. I was taken aback by how much of an impact I had on him in just these past 10 days. I couldn’t believe I had that impact on someone at all, let alone someone I considered a stranger a little over a week ago.

A tear came down Lamine’s cheek after his confession. He tried to cover it by ducking his head away from me, but I caught it before he could turn away.

“Oh, Lamine,” I reach up my hand to his tear-stained cheek, using my hand to wipe away his tears as well as to turn his head towards my own, “you are such an amazing person, both inside and out. I’m truly moved by everything you said about me, truly. But… I think you can find that part of yourself all the time, even when I’m not here. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met, and if there’s anyone who can find joy within themselves, it’s you.” Lamine physically relaxed at my words: his shoulders fell, and he released a deep breath he’d been holding in. 

“Hearing that from you makes me feel better. Muchas gracias,” he sighs as he grabs the wrist of the hand still lingering on his cheek. He brings the knuckles of that hand up to his lips, placing delicate kisses along each one of my knuckles. Even in moments like this, he always finds a way for my stomach to erupt in butterflies. 

A little while later, we left the bar and stopped at a vendor on the street for some ice cream. We took our time roaming around the streets eating our ice cream, not wanting the night to end. 

“You know, I forgot to tell you about this,” Lamine broke the comfortable silence as we walked through the streets of Barcelona. His arm free from ice cream was draped over my shoulder as I leaned into his touch. 

“There’s this internship through Spain’s National Men’s Soccer team that is taking place during the World Cup. It’s basically a communications intern where they co-run the social media team with the current intern. I heard about it at bachillerato, and it sounds like something up your alley. Plus, I’ll be on that team for the World Cup, so I can put in a very good word for you,” Lamine told me this information so casually, as if this wasn’t my dream job- or well, in this case, internship. 

“Lamine! Oh my God! Are you kidding? That sounds like a dream!” I exclaimed so dramatically that I almost dropped my ice cream. 

“I can get the link to the application and send it to you. I think they would really like you, too, especially since you speak English and live in the US. Not having to book you an international round-trip flight and knowing the country inside and out would be ideal for them,” Lamine told me. Without warning, I wrapped my arms around his midsection in gratitude and complete joy. He was initially shocked by the sudden change in contact, but then leaned into the embrace. I leaned up and began attacking his face with kisses.

“I didn’t know you would be so excited about this,” Lamine managed to get out in between my pecks. 

“Are you kidding? I get to see you for almost 2 straight months and work for a World Cup team? You should be shocked I’m not more excited,” I say, ecstatically. Lamine just replied with a toothy smile. 

Eventually, Lamine and I made it to the front of my hotel. This is where we had to sadly depart for an unforeseen amount of time. He reached out and grabbed both my hands, looking longingly into my eyes. 

“I guess we have to say goodbye now,” he says, swaying back and forth on his heels in anxious anticipation. 

“I guess so,” I reply. We sit in silence for a moment before he leans down to engulf me in a kiss. This one was different from all the ones we shared before: this one was reverent, like he was memorizing me and my lips. 

“Te amo,” he whispers, our lips inches from each other. The two words were barely audible, but I still managed to hear them. I was bewildered and almost taken aback by those two words. 

“I’m sorry, I know it's so early, and we’re not anything official, but if this is the last time I see you for a long time, I don’t want to regret that I didn’t say it,” he confesses as his forehead rests against my own. My heart swells at the admission.

“Yo también te amo,” I reply, recapturing his lips in another kiss. The words weren’t a binding phrase or a classic case of love-bombing, but more of an expression of deep gratitude for the impact we had on each other’s lives in the past few days. 

Once we pulled away, we said our final goodbyes as I walked into my hotel. I sighed as tears brimmed in my eyes. The thought of tonight being the last time I saw Lamine ever in real life tugged at my brain. I didn’t want it to be, but it was a very real possibility. 

I eventually snuck my way back into my room and got into bed. My roommate was knocked out, not even turning when I walked into the room. I got a text on WhatsApp from Lamine, which was the link to the internship application. I couldn’t contain my smile at the unserious texts we sent back and forth. After a few threads of messages, I set my phone down and went to sleep. 

The next morning and flight home was a blur. All I could think about was Lamine and the memories we made during the trip. During the 9-hour flight, I had time to complete the application for the internship. After I submitted it, I texted Lamine and told him. He was so happy and said he was going to put in “as many good words as possible” for me. After a while, I was so exhausted that I passed out in my crammed seat. The next thing I remember is my friend shaking me awake, telling me were about to land back at home. 

————

In the last week of April, during my lunch break, I got an email from the Spanish internship I applied for. I was sitting at the table with my friends as we all talked, ate, and studied for our upcoming classes. I clicked on the email, thinking it would be another update about how my application was still “being looked at” and how I would get an answer “in the next couple of business days.” This email, though, was not one of those. 

“Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. I got it! I got the internship!” I freaked out, reading the email which informed me I had, in fact, gotten the spot as the social media co-intern for Spain’s World Cup soccer team. 

My friends also began to freak out for me, congratulating me and celebrating alongside me. 

“You need to tell Lamine,” my one friend, who was sitting to my left, told me after the initial uproar wore down. 

“Oh my God, you’re so right,” I replied, immediately pulling out my phone and opening up his contact on WhatsApp so I could video-call him. It was about 6:30 AM there, but I knew he was up since he had lifting at 7. 

He answered almost immediately, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. He was sitting at his kitchen table, eating his breakfast and sipping on a protein shake. 

“Seems like your good words worked!” I exclaimed, turning my screen around to show him the email displayed on my computer. It took him a minute to read and process what I was saying, but once he did, he was beyond ecstatic.

“No fucking way!” he exclaimed, getting up out of his chair as he began to run around his dining room in celebration. I laughed so hard as he quietly cheered since Keyne and his mom were still sleeping above him. 

“I think you’re way more excited than I am,” I told him once he sat back down in his dining room chair. 

“We get to see each other in a month from now! I’m elated,” he said, the smile on his face never faltering.

“Me too, Lamine. This is about to be the best summer ever! Maybe you can even convince your mom to stay in the US after the World Cup so we can hang out even more,” I proposed. 

“Maybe, but all that matters now is that I get to be with your beautiful face in a month,” Lamine said, and my face became a familiar shade of pink. A chorus of “awws” was heard from my friends, and my face grew even hotter.  

“Ok, Lamine, I’ll let you go now so you can lift. Te amo,” I said, blowing him a kiss.

“Te amo,” he replied, blowing a kiss right back at me.