Furia(56)

“They showed it on TV?” Mamá asked.

“They put it up online,” Coach Alicia said. “It didn’t go viral, but it’s created some buzz for the team. Rufina recruited some Royals who know our style of play, but some players came from as far as Pergamino.”

Yael joined our group. She watched the video play on a loop on Roxana’s phone and said, “With la Furia and Coach Alicia, we have a good chance.”

My mom looked at me as if I’d turned into a butterfly.

Suddenly, whispers rippled through all the Central fans in the room. The newcomers all seemed to be Lepers. No one screamed in victory, but the look of glee on their faces was obvious.

My mom checked her phone. “Ay, no,” she whispered. “Colón just scored. Central’s down by two now.”

I locked eyes with Rufina. She smirked, and I felt heat rise to my cheeks. Coach Alicia saw everything and in her megaphonic voice said, “No, no, no. Se?oritas, we’re not doing this. When we’re together, we’re all Eva María. There won’t be any Newell’s or Central here.”

“What about Boca and River? Or Independiente and Vélez?” said a dark girl who towered over everyone else in the room, including Coach.

“The goalie, Carolina,” Roxana whispered in my ear.

Coach sent Carolina a look that made the girl shrivel. That’d teach her not to be cheeky with Alicia Aimar.

“Like I said, when we’re together, we’re all Eva María, and if anyone has a problem with that, she can walk out the door right now. We need players, but I assure you, if I send out a public call, I’ll have enough candidates to make three teams. Don’t try me.” Her gaze swept across the room, and no one moved, not even the parents or Rufina’s boyfriend or Luciano Durant.

There was another chime, and my mom looked down at her phone. She closed her eyes briefly but didn’t say anything. Her reaction could only mean that Colón had scored again. Three to zero. Poor Pablo.

Coach Alicia continued, “Like I said, today is the last day to turn in the forms and the first payment. We’ll play hard, play to win, and have fun. Claro?”

“Like water,” the original Eva María players intoned. The newcomers joined in a beat too late, but now they knew for next time.

Parents, including my mom, swarmed around Coach with questions. Someone started playing cumbia through a speaker, and before long, the gathering resembled a party. Two of the newcomers—I assumed Milagros and Agustina—danced in perfect synchronicity.

The memory of Diego and me dancing by the river made me blush.

Roxana and Yael stood next to me, the three of us surveying the bubbling excitement rippling through the players, old and new.

“This team is stacked,” I said, rubbing my hands.

“If everyone is one hundred percent by December, I think we have a chance,” Yael said. “How’s your leg, Furia?”

“My mom took me to a curandera. I should be better by Monday.” I laughed, but she lifted her eyebrows in plain disapproval.

Luciano walked up to us and added, “You still need to go to Doctor Gaudio. He can make sure you’re totally okay.” If anyone knew about being cautious with an injury like mine, it was Luciano. “In any case,” he continued. “I told your mom I’m here to help you or anyone with anything you might need.”

“Why, Mago?” I asked, unable to stop myself. “What’s in it for you?”

He shrugged. “I want to coach. Why not coach women’s fútbol? Once you explode, everyone will want a piece of the phenomenon.”

Roxana stared at him.

My mom stepped into the group and, holding my arm and Luciano’s, said, “Camila, since Yael lives in our barrio, Luciano agreed to be your ride to and from practices to make sure you’re safe.”

“On your motorcycle?” I asked, imagining the three of us squeezed on his Yamaha.

“I can give her a ride,” Roxana said, an edge to her voice that my mom didn’t seem to notice. “I’ve been doing it for a year.”

“I can just take the bus,” I offered.

But my mom wouldn’t listen. “Thank you, Roxana, but I don’t want you to drive all the way into el barrio and then out again. It’s settled. One hand washes the other, and both wash the face. I told Luciano I’d pay for the gas for his new car.”

“New car?”

Luciano shrugged, his freckled face mottled with embarrassment. “Just a Fiat 147. It’s not a BMW.” Like there had been an invocation, Diego’s presence suddenly loomed gigantic among us. I avoided everyone’s eyes. Luciano continued, “But it does the job. I’ll be driving Yael anyway, so really, Furia, it won’t be a problem.”

“In that case, I guess I’m in.” My mom smiled at this small victory.

Roxana glared at me. “I’ll go tell my mom not to worry, then. She was already making plans for nothing.”

My mom, seeing Mrs. Fong for the first time, exclaimed, “María!” and ran after them.

Luciano stared at Roxana’s back.

He liked her.

Poor boy. He didn’t have a chance.





I hadn’t felt this close to my mom since elementary school. In the taxi back to the barrio and then at home, she didn’t stop talking.