Chapter 11
Mapi was sitting on the bench in the changing room, lacing up her boots with a little more aggression than necessary. Her fingers fumbled with the knot, and she muttered a quiet curse under her breath in Spanish. Across the room, Ingrid was adjusting her socks, her movements slower, more deliberate, as if she were trying not to let her simmering annoyance show.
The tension between them was palpable. They’d been bickering the night before, and though the argument had been brief, the silence that followed had carried over into the morning. Ingrid couldn’t even remember what had started it. All she knew was that Mapi had been in one of her overly playful moods, poking and teasing, and Ingrid, too exhausted to deal with it, had snapped.
Now, they were both nursing their pride, neither one willing to be the first to break the silence.
“Chicas?” Alexia’s voice cut through the room, drawing everyone’s attention. She was already in her kit, her captain’s armband secured around her bicep. “We need to head out.”
There was a murmur of agreement as the team began gathering their things. Mapi stood abruptly, heading out of the changing room without so much as a glance in Ingrid’s direction. Ingrid clenched her jaw, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She hated this. She hated fighting with Mapi, especially before a match.
Usually, before every game, they’d share a quick kiss—just a soft peck, nothing dramatic. It was their little ritual, a good luck charm of sorts. But today, as they walked out onto the pitch, the distance between them felt insurmountable. Ingrid caught Mapi glancing at her once or twice, her eyes unreadable, but neither of them made a move to close the gap.
The match started, and it was clear from the beginning that their opponents weren’t going to make things easy. The other team was relentless, pressing hard and cutting off passes with a precision that Barça hadn’t anticipated. Ingrid was doing her best to hold the midfield together, but without her usual focus, she found herself making uncharacteristic mistakes.
Mapi wasn’t faring much better. Her usual sharpness seemed dulled, her movements a fraction slower, her judgement clouded. At one point, she misjudged a tackle, and the opposing forward breezed past her, almost scoring. Mapi shouted in frustration, her voice carrying across the pitch.
“¡Mierda!” she spat, slamming her fist against her thigh.
Ingrid couldn’t help the irritation that bubbled up inside her. She knew Mapi was probably blaming herself for the team’s struggles, but it wasn’t just her fault. Everyone was off today. Including Ingrid.
The game ended in a draw—2-2. Not a loss, but it felt like one. The team trudged back to the changing room in silence, the weight of disappointment heavy on their shoulders.
Alexia was the first to break the silence. “What the hell was that?” she demanded, her voice sharp.
No one answered.
Alexia’s gaze swept over the group, finally landing on Ingrid and Mapi. “You two,” she said, pointing between them. “Whatever this is? Fix it. Now.”
Mapi opened her mouth to argue, but Alexia cut her off. “I do not care who started it or why. This team does not need your drama on the pitch. Either sort it out, or take it somewhere else.”
Ingrid felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. She avoided Alexia’s gaze, focusing instead on untying her boots.
Mapi, however, wasn’t one to back down. “It’s not just us,” she said. “The whole team—”
“It’s you,” Alexia interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. “And you.” She looked at Ingrid. “Fix it.”
With that, Alexia turned and walked away towards the showers, leaving the two of them standing there, the rest of the team studiously avoiding their eyes as they got their towels out ready.
Mapi sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. She muttered something under her breath that Ingrid didn’t catch.
“Let’s go,” Ingrid said finally as she picked up her kit bag, her voice quieter than usual. She didn’t want to hang around here any longer than necessary. She’d shower at home, where she could think without being stared at like she’s an act at the circus.
Mapi followed her out of the changing room, her own bag over her shoulder, and they walked to the car in silence. Ingrid’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as they drove home, the tension in the car almost unbearable.
When they finally reached their apartment, Mapi slammed the door behind her, kicking off her trainers with unnecessary force. Ingrid winced but said nothing, shrugging off her jacket and hanging it up.
Mapi paced the living room, her arms crossed over her chest. “You didn’t kiss me,” she said suddenly, her voice low but accusing.
Ingrid blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“Before the game,” Mapi clarified, stopping to look at her. “You didn’t kiss me.”
“You didn’t kiss me either,” Ingrid shot back, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “Don’t put this all on me.”
Mapi threw her hands up in exasperation. “It’s your fault we were fighting in the first place!”
“My fault?” Ingrid repeated, incredulous. “You were the one poking at me all night when I was clearly exhausted!”
“I was trying to cheer you up!” Mapi countered, her voice rising. “But no, the princess was too tired to deal with me.”
Ingrid’s jaw clenched. “Don’t call me that right now.”
Mapi scoffed, turning away from her. “Whatever.”
Ingrid took a deep breath, trying to rein in her temper. “Mapi, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have snapped at you. But this—” she gestured between them “—isn’t helping. We need to talk, not just yell at each other.”
Mapi turned back to face her, her expression softening slightly. She stays quiet for about thirty seconds before signing deeply, “You really hurt my feelings, Ingrid,” she admitted quietly.
Ingrid’s shoulders sagged. “I know,” she said, her voice gentle. “And I’m sorry for that. But you have to understand that sometimes, I just need space. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you, or that I’m mad, or that you’ve done something wrong.”
Mapi’s eyes searched hers, as if trying to gauge her sincerity. “I don’t like it when you push me away,” she said after a moment.
Ingrid stepped closer, reaching out to take Mapi’s hands in hers. “I don’t mean to,” she said softly. “I’ll try to be better about that. But can we agree not to let things like this fester? I hate fighting with you.”
Mapi nodded, her lips quirking into a small smile. “Me too.”
Ingrid smiled back, lifting one of Mapi’s hands to press a kiss to her knuckles. “Come here,” she murmured, tugging her into a hug.
Mapi went willingly, burying her face in Ingrid’s neck as Ingrid’s arms settle tightly around her shoulders. “I missed you today,” she mumbled.
“I missed you too,” Ingrid replied, pressing a kiss to crook of Mapi’s neck as she rocked them both side to side.
They stayed like that for a while, the tension between them finally easing. When they pulled back, Mapi’s smile had grown, and she reached up to cup Ingrid’s face in her hands.
“Next time, we kiss before the match, no matter what.” She said firmly.
“Deal,” Ingrid said with a soft laugh.
And this time, when Mapi leaned in to kiss her, Ingrid didn’t hesitate. When Mapi pulls away just seconds later, she trails her thumbs over Ingrid’s cheeks.
“Let’s go shower, Princesa.” She murmured, and Ingrid nods her head, allowing Mapi to pull her through to the bathroom.