Rafa's diary - days three and four
Sep. 5th, 2009 12:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
louiseluxHere's more, slightly behind schedule. Hey, at least I can't get jossed. :)
Title: Rafa's Diary - day three & day four
Pairing: Fedalish
Warnings: worksafe
Rating: G
Day one Day two
Day three – Wednesday
Toni complained this morning to one of the organisers about the fans stealing my towels from off the court. It was a little awkward, especially remembering the vast pile of tournament towels in mama's airing cupboard back home. She told me she gets the right one out for each tournament, as a little celebration and good luck wish for me. Now I think of it, she never got the Wimbledon and Roland Garros ones out this year when I was home.
She called me last night and told me to eat more food.
It was difficult to say much before the match, but afterwards in the locker rooms Richard wandered over to me. I was sending a few texts and stretching on the bench, just letting my body ease down from playing.
"You okay?" he said, staring at my legs.
"I'm good. Are you okay?"
He tapped me on the shoulder and smiled. "Yeah. Thank you."
I just nodded. That was it, then he turned away and began to change out of his things, and then Roger came in with his little entourage. Our eyes met and I straightened up. He came right over to me and we clasped hands. People milled about everywhere, talking and shouting and laughing, the usual low boil of sound, full of the half distracted conversations of people trying to do their jobs.
"Hi, Rafa."
"Hey, Roger."
Was this going to be the moment when I got slideshow on his new iPhone? He reached up and touched a curl of hair that was very near my ear. I felt a very light movement, like the wind had moved it. It was hard to breathe for a second.
"Nice cut," he said, and his eyes met mine. They were warm and friendly and amused. "It suits you shorter."
He's very flirtatious – it's hard not to notice when it's turned on you. When Xisca met him for the first time, which must be more than three years ago now, she couldn't stop talking about him for the whole day. It pissed me off a lot at the time. The same thing with my mother. And Maribel!
"I like it like this," I said. "It's not so hot."
"Uh huh. Looks hot to me." He smiled at me, catching my eye again while I struggled for something to say, then he went off. What do I even say to him?
I sometimes wonder if it's a tactic to set me on the back foot.
There's something I never told anyone, not Toni or Xisca, even. He apologised to me after Australia, about a month later. He called me and we talked for about ten minutes and only at the end did he tell me he wished he'd kept himself together that day. He could very easily not have bothered to call me. It was around the same time my parents had sat us down and told us they were splitting, so I hardly even thought about it until much later, until I watched the Wimbledon final. That was a pretty bad day for me. After the match I went into my room and locked my door, switched off my phone and drew the curtains and then I cried like a kid into my pillow.
One day it will be me and my boat and none of this. Until then, I want to win everything. I want to never lose.
***
Day four – Thursday
Novak chatted with me today while he warmed up for his session. His girlfriend wants them to buy a house together. Novak said okay, but only if he can have a karaoke bar and a basement nightclub, and then she said no, he had to live alone. I wasn't sure if he was joking or not.
Roger was at practise too.
"Look at him," Toni said, as we sat in the shade.
I didn't need telling. He's usually the most conspicuous thing on the courts. He was working hard over on court 4. "Yeah. What?" I said.
"Every time you show up, he begins whacking those balls till the yellow fuzz flies off."
"So… what's your point?" I said.
He crossed his legs and sighed, just like I'd disappointed him. It's an easy thing to do with Toni. I sighed and tipped my head back and listened to the Williams sisters yelling at each other across the net.
"I'm not making a point," Toni said. Then, "You need to get over to the stringers before you can have your afternoon off."
"What are you going to do this afternoon?" I asked.
"I'm going to a gardening museum," he said.
"Did you hide my boxset?"
"No, of course not."
In the afternoon I stayed on the sofa—I learned to love the sofa over the summer-- and read the Spanish newspapers that Benito had given me, and we ate and watched TV and played my soccer game. Carlos managed to score three own goals playing Torres. At one point I laughed so hard that I got scared I was going to pass out or pop a vessel in my brain.
In the evening we went out to Fifth Avenue, where I was able to look for more films that Toni will disapprove of.
Title: Rafa's Diary - day three & day four
Pairing: Fedalish
Warnings: worksafe
Rating: G
Day one Day two
Day three – Wednesday
Toni complained this morning to one of the organisers about the fans stealing my towels from off the court. It was a little awkward, especially remembering the vast pile of tournament towels in mama's airing cupboard back home. She told me she gets the right one out for each tournament, as a little celebration and good luck wish for me. Now I think of it, she never got the Wimbledon and Roland Garros ones out this year when I was home.
She called me last night and told me to eat more food.
It was difficult to say much before the match, but afterwards in the locker rooms Richard wandered over to me. I was sending a few texts and stretching on the bench, just letting my body ease down from playing.
"You okay?" he said, staring at my legs.
"I'm good. Are you okay?"
He tapped me on the shoulder and smiled. "Yeah. Thank you."
I just nodded. That was it, then he turned away and began to change out of his things, and then Roger came in with his little entourage. Our eyes met and I straightened up. He came right over to me and we clasped hands. People milled about everywhere, talking and shouting and laughing, the usual low boil of sound, full of the half distracted conversations of people trying to do their jobs.
"Hi, Rafa."
"Hey, Roger."
Was this going to be the moment when I got slideshow on his new iPhone? He reached up and touched a curl of hair that was very near my ear. I felt a very light movement, like the wind had moved it. It was hard to breathe for a second.
"Nice cut," he said, and his eyes met mine. They were warm and friendly and amused. "It suits you shorter."
He's very flirtatious – it's hard not to notice when it's turned on you. When Xisca met him for the first time, which must be more than three years ago now, she couldn't stop talking about him for the whole day. It pissed me off a lot at the time. The same thing with my mother. And Maribel!
"I like it like this," I said. "It's not so hot."
"Uh huh. Looks hot to me." He smiled at me, catching my eye again while I struggled for something to say, then he went off. What do I even say to him?
I sometimes wonder if it's a tactic to set me on the back foot.
There's something I never told anyone, not Toni or Xisca, even. He apologised to me after Australia, about a month later. He called me and we talked for about ten minutes and only at the end did he tell me he wished he'd kept himself together that day. He could very easily not have bothered to call me. It was around the same time my parents had sat us down and told us they were splitting, so I hardly even thought about it until much later, until I watched the Wimbledon final. That was a pretty bad day for me. After the match I went into my room and locked my door, switched off my phone and drew the curtains and then I cried like a kid into my pillow.
One day it will be me and my boat and none of this. Until then, I want to win everything. I want to never lose.
***
Day four – Thursday
Novak chatted with me today while he warmed up for his session. His girlfriend wants them to buy a house together. Novak said okay, but only if he can have a karaoke bar and a basement nightclub, and then she said no, he had to live alone. I wasn't sure if he was joking or not.
Roger was at practise too.
"Look at him," Toni said, as we sat in the shade.
I didn't need telling. He's usually the most conspicuous thing on the courts. He was working hard over on court 4. "Yeah. What?" I said.
"Every time you show up, he begins whacking those balls till the yellow fuzz flies off."
"So… what's your point?" I said.
He crossed his legs and sighed, just like I'd disappointed him. It's an easy thing to do with Toni. I sighed and tipped my head back and listened to the Williams sisters yelling at each other across the net.
"I'm not making a point," Toni said. Then, "You need to get over to the stringers before you can have your afternoon off."
"What are you going to do this afternoon?" I asked.
"I'm going to a gardening museum," he said.
"Did you hide my boxset?"
"No, of course not."
In the afternoon I stayed on the sofa—I learned to love the sofa over the summer-- and read the Spanish newspapers that Benito had given me, and we ate and watched TV and played my soccer game. Carlos managed to score three own goals playing Torres. At one point I laughed so hard that I got scared I was going to pass out or pop a vessel in my brain.
In the evening we went out to Fifth Avenue, where I was able to look for more films that Toni will disapprove of.
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no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 05:46 pm (UTC)Thanks for the feedback too - it's so cool you're enjoying this little excursion into the mind of Rafa!