Regret

After I take a long shower, brooding inside, I lie down on the bed and think. Thank goodness the girls are still at the pub. I can’t explain what just happened half an hour ago. I can't even explain it to myself. How did this happen? Did it truly happen?

I spend over an hour thinking about his blue eyes, his gorgeous mouth. Gee, how I want to kiss him. If he gave me one more sign that he wanted to be with me, I think I would have gone where he wanted and done what he wanted. And how could anyone possibly resist him? But I am not a bitch, and that's how he saw me, but it is not how I see myself. Though I am sad now. I want to hear his laugh again. Was he thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him? Neahhhh, he must have found another girl or maybe girls the moment I left his car.

With his stare clear in my mind, I fall asleep.

When I wake up, it is 11 a.m. I see that Valentina is in her bed, still sleeping. I am so tired and blank that I didn't even see them arrive late in the night.

I go into the kitchen and find Joanna sitting and drinking her coffee. I grab myself a cup as well.

“Good morning; how was the rest of the night?” I ask, curious about all that I must have missed, although nothing compares to what they missed.

“It was terrific! I danced a lot and got a cute guy. The Spaniards kiss well,” she says to me, laughing. “And you? How was the taxi?”

I frown, sort of remaining quiet, not knowing how to answer.

“Stop it, everyone at that party knew you and the player left together,” she tells me, rolling her eyes with jealousy, but I know she's playing games with me.

“Okay, okay, we left together. He brought me home. And that was it, nothing more to it!” I reply, a bit irritated. A part of me wanted to yield in, but then I remember him saying that silly sentence about not talking about us being together to anyone as though I am one of those gold-diggers.

“Wait, didn't you have sex with him?” she asks, her black eyeballs literally popping out from surprise.

“Of course not! You don't even seem to know me. Besides, I told him I'm not his late-night bitch. I was furious, so he brought me home. It's over,” I retort and take a sip of my coffee, trying not to make eye contact with her.

She looks at me as I mime a scarecrow.

“What? You are fucking lucky! Do you know how many women would kill you for hearing that?” she says, getting all cross-eyed with me. At that moment, Katrina enters the kitchen to join us.

“I don't care. Besides, we'll never see each other again,” I conclude, wondering why I feel as though acid is dripping from my mouth when I said that.

I finish drinking my last bit of coffee. I go to my notebook and read the websites that I usually go to. As always, he is once again in the news. Only for the first time, I get excited to read what is written.

Our hottest athlete in the world, Hunter Blanco, leaves the famous pub with a mysterious girl in Barcelona. They say that the mysterious girl is a Spanish American, and the two would have left the place earlier. Can you identify who the girl is in the picture? Text us on 1****9 to win amazing prizes!"

I view the picture, staring back at myself in disbelief. How do these people know? I scan the photos and see the tip of my head inside his Lamborghini! These bunch of jerks have the most advanced digital equipment to capture the miniscule of details with such precision!

Katrina looks at me and makes a "what's going on" expression. I show her the report.

“You motherfucker!” she says, laughing. Great, everything I need.

“That doesn't say anything. They're probably talking about the one after me. Imagine if he wasn't going to take advantage of his night out.” I shrug.

Of course, I know it is a lie. At least, the publication had details about where and how the photos taken were outside the pub’s gates.

I grab my notebook back from Katrina and send a quick email to my parents. I miss them already. With that, I notice that I don't know where my cellphone is. I look for it in every corner of the apartment and nothing. Perfect, just what I need to happen right now in my life! Great Selena, this award goes to the dumbest woman in the Guinness Book of World Records.

In the afternoon, I decide to go for a walk. Since I arrived here three days ago, I haven't stopped eating. How could I not when I was surrounded with such delicious food. When I get back home, I am gonna go to the gym with renewed vengeance, for sure.

I grab my iPod, put on my headphones and exit the house at a powerwalk. I listen to several songs, and in-between them, I think about Hunter and, more than once, his mouth, those gorgeous eyes…arghhh stop!

I pass by the popular area of the city where there are stalls and banners of the finest athletes; everything is related to football. This city doesn't know how to like anything else, does it? I see on a banner his face, his beautiful and muscular body. And what's under that shirt?

He is already one of the greatest stars in the team's history. Oh, how famous he is. At four of the stalls I pass, all of them have people wanting the shirt with his name on the back and his number, of course, lucky shirt number 9. Before, I had never seen what his number was, nor the extent of his fame.

I spend three hours walking and sight-seeing. I don’t even notice how it’s already after seven at night. But that's good. At least I have lost a little more weight. I make my way back home and eventually see the front of Valentina's building. After so much walking, I almost have a seizure.

The beaming Lamborghini is parked on the curb.