Chapter 30

                                    

                                          
TW: mentions of sexual assault 
JUDE POV
I threw my bag on the car floor in front of the seat. Eleanor had already gotten the car started. I strapped myself in, occasionally glancing at her. The silence was deafening, not to mention extremely awkward. 
I slightly overheard what she and Mum were discussing, but the situation confused me. Who hurt her and who brought her in last night? 
"So, I heard you and my mum talking. What was that about?" I tried to seem preoccupied with my phone. "None of your business." She quickly shut me down. "Who was the guy she was talking about?" I pressed further. 
"Stop asking." She rolled her eyes at me. "What did my mom mean by bruises?" I raised my voice. Eleanor slammed on the brakes and pulled off to the side. "Do you really want to know?" She huffed. "Yes, I do." I watched as she took off her shirt. 
Her body was littered in purple bruises, some of them were even black. My eyes widened at the sight. "I was sexually assaulted, happy?" She put her shirt back on. "Who the fuck did that to you?" I grabbed her wrist before she could grip the steering wheel.
She quickly pulled away, "You don't get to be fucking mad." She tightened her jaw. "What..?" I was confused as to why she would say that. "You're the one who hurt me first, so keep your mouth shut." She got back on the road. 
I wanted to say something back to her, but I couldn't. She was right, I did hurt her, for selfish reasons too. The rest of the car ride was quiet and when she dropped me off, I could see tear drops falling onto her lap. It was too late to say anything now, so I just decided to go to practice. 
As I made my way to the locker room, Ancelotti stopped me. "Que pasa? Por que llegas tarde?" (What's wrong? Why are you late?) "No es nada. My mum woke up late." (It's nothing.) Ancelotti suspiciously looked at me, but nodded. 
I got to the locker room and immediately saw the chaos unfold before me. Vini and Rudiger kept spouting nonsense at each other, slurs were being thrown left and right. Everybody else just let it happen since it usually resolved itself. 
 "What's happening?" I look over to Alaba. "Vini was talking about how the fans are criticizing him and Rudiger disagreed." He shrugged. "How are they criticizing him?" 
"Vini thinks they're being racist to him." Alaba shakes his head. "They're only being racist to Vini?" I furrow my brows. "Yup." He grabs his warm-up jacket and throws it on. "That's odd." I grab my warm-up clothes. "Very." Alaba mumbles. 
Nacho breaks up the 'fight' between the two and eventually calms them down. I never understood how he could do that. It always amazed me. Vini glared at Rudiger for a second, then gave him a pat on the back, apologizing. Well, that was easy enough.
Our other coach yelled for us to hurry up. We all collectively gathered our gear and headed out. Camavinga came up from behind me and slung his arm around my shoulder. 
"Who's that pretty girl that dropped you off?" He still struggled with his English so there were pauses in between words. "Off limits, bro." I rolled my eyes, smiling to myself. He began bantering about last week's game and how idiotic the referee was. Which, I agree. He was being a douchebag. 


1 WEEK AGO AT THE GAME
Modric was setting up for a corner kick, one which we had gotten lucky with. The crowd was whistling and cheering. I'm surprised I haven't gone deaf yet. 
He held up his arm and then booted the ball to where Vini was. He passed it over to Camavinga who got tackled to the floor. Camavinga grabbed his shin as he writhed around in pain. The referee hadn't stopped the game, so we were forced to keep juggling the ball back and forth to each other until there was an opening. 
The crowd was yelling at the referee and trash was being thrown onto the field. Finally. The referee blew his whistle. Nacho and Vini ran over to the referee and started yelling at him. I helped Camavinga up then went over to the ref. What the hell is this guy's issue?
"Calmate." The referee tried to calm down the players, but Vini kept pointing his finger and yelling at him. The ref pulled out a yellow card and held it up high in Vini's face. Rudiger quickly came over and grabbed Vini before he could say anything else. 
Camavinga was still limping and blood was seeping from his sock. Nacho demanded that we at least got a penalty kick. The referee ran over to VAR and watched intently. The crowd went quiet, wondering what he was going to do. 
He turned back around to the players and pulled out a yellow card for the guy who tackled Camavinga. No penalty, no red card, but a lousy YELLOW? I ran up to the referee and yelled in his face. "What's your fucking problem?!" I felt Militao grab my arm, holding me back. A player from the other team also tried to create space between me and the referee. 
"You're a piece of shit." I spat, and then the referee pulled out another yellow card with my name written all over it. Ridiculous. Camavinga was brought off the field to be inspected by medics, and then was hurriedly brought back on. 


PRESENT TIME
I quickly made my way back to the locker room after practice. Alaba followed behind along with Tchouameni, Courtouis, Modric, and Kroos. We all changed out of our shirts. I grabbed my water bottle and began spraying it at Alaba since his locker was right next to mine. He tried to shield himself, but it was no use. 
Before I knew it, Tchouameni squeezed his water bottle right in my eye. I covered my face with my arm, "Gilipollas!" (Asshole) My phone pinged and it was a message from my mum saying that she was here. I put on a clean shirt and said bye to all the lads. Ancelotti waved when he saw me leave the locker room with all my stuff in hand. 
I tossed my things in the backseat, then climbed into the passenger's. "Hey mum, how was your day?" I put my seatbelt on. "Good, how was practice?" She made sure I was strapped in before driving off. "Draining. We did 50 sprints for every yellow card we received last game. Ancelotti thinks we should've conducted ourselves better." I sighed, taking a sip of my water. 
"Well, the referee was... interesting." She cleared her throat. "If that's how you say he was a biased shithead, then yes, he was very interesting." I pulled out my phone. "Ellie wanted to watch a movie with me, did you want to join us?" My mum looked over at me.
"Uhm..." Should I? I feel like that's invading on her space, especially after we fought. "Please? I'm really worried that you and Ellie aren't getting along. I think all of us watching a movie together could make things less awkward." She pulled into the driveway. 
"I guess." I scratched the stubble on my jaw. This should be eventful. We got out of the car and I didn't even bother bringing in the rest of my things. Mum unlocked the door and it smelled like popcorn. Weird. 
The further we walked in, it was now clear that Eleanor had made at least 5 bowls of popcorn. "Are you ready for movie night..?" She smiled brightly at my mum. "Yes, is it okay if Jude joins us?" She nods in my direction. Eleanor's jaw tightens, it's brief, but I still catch it. 
"Maybe tonight isn't the best time, I still have to shower, and-" I was about to weasle my way out of this before Eleanor interrupted me. "No, It's okay. He's welcome to join us if he wants to." She doesn't even try to make eye contact with me. 
"Great." Mum clasps her hands together. "Go take your shower, we'll be waiting." Mum pats my shoulder and I make my way upstairs. This is stupid.
END OF CHAPTER
Happy octoberrrrr 🫶🎃
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