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Gakpo was reading in the recreation room, enjoying the bit of silence. He loved his chaotic teammates, but sometimes their non-stop chatter became too much for him to handle without a small time-out.
“Cody!!"
Gakpo immediately recognized the voice as Alisson’s voice. He'd gotten very good at picking his teammates out through sound as the months went by. "What is it, Ali? Is Virgil in trouble?"
"No, it's not that." Alisson pressed against the wall, fidgeting with the hems of his sleeves. If Gakpo didn't know better, he'd say that Alisson was nervous about something. "Could you...teach me Dutch?"
Well, that was unexpected. Gakpo knew that most of the Liverpudlians knew at least two languages enough to speak fluently, and they’d instinctively picked up bits and pieces of their other teammates’ languages. But Alisson, asking to learn Dutch?
There could only be one reason.
“This is about Virgil, isn’t it?” Gakpo smirked, winking at Alisson. The faint blush on the Brazilian’s face only proved his suspicions further.
“I’ve picked up a few words, but…Virg’s birthday is in July and I want to write him something in his native language. I want it to rhyme, like a nice poem, but how am I supposed to rhyme in a language I don’t even know? So…could you teach me?”
“I don’t know…Dutch may be difficult to learn in two and a half months. It’s not very similar to Portuguese, and we’re pretty busy from here on until the end of the season.”
“Please, Cody? I want it to be really special. It’s not every day that you turn thirty-two.” Alisson took out a notebook and a ballpoint pen. “I’ll take note of every word you say, I promise.”
“ Prima .” Gakpo closed his book, standing from the chaise lounge. “That’s ‘fine’. Are you even writing this down?”
“I’m way ahead of you.” Alisson proudly showed Gakpo the first page of his notebook. The word prima and its translation were neatly written in black ink. “There’s no way I can fail with your instruction, Professor Gakpo.”
“Professor Gakpo.” Gakpo straightened the lapels on his polo, twirling an imaginary tie. “I like the sound of that.”
*
Firmino did not expect the day to go like this. He was simply eating a bagel in the cafeteria when a basket of flowers randomly appeared from nowhere.
“Okay, here’s your payment. Green flowers were not easy to find, but I managed to arrange them! And I calculated the approximate color ratios on the Brazilian flag—”
Firmino pushed the massive flower bouquet to one side, revealing Virgil van Dries sitting across the table. “What is it, Virgil? Here I am, trying to eat a bagel, and you give me a whole bunch of flowers . That includes hellebore flowers, which you fully know that Flaco doesn’t like because their shadows creep him out at night.”
“Oh god, I forgot!” Van Dijk slid the basket under the table, holding out a piece of paper. “Sign this contract, will you?”
“ What contract?! I’m leaving Virg, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“I know, and I’ll miss you for sure. But I want to take advantage of our time left so you can teach me Portuguese.”
Firmino laughed so hard, he nearly fell out of his chair. “You, speak Portuguese? That’s about as funny as Luis Suarez going on a no-bite policy!”
Van Dijk had the grace to blush, just a tiny bit. “I know, it’s weird. But…Ali’s saved my hide more times than I can count. It’s about time I thanked him, in his own language. So…will you teach me Portuguese, Professor Firmino?”
Firmino puffed out his chest at the new nickname. “ Dê-me esse contrato.”
*
Half an hour later, Gakpo had to take a break from his “Professor” position. He had tried to teach Alisson a few words of Dutch, but every time Alisson wanted to know one word, he’d want to know how to put it in a sentence and what it rhymed with. And simply put, Gakpo didn’t have the time or patience to explain the conjugation of every word in a long poem.
He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts, that he didn’t notice somebody else coming into the path. That’s how he ended up crashing into Firmino.
“Whoa, are you okay Bobby?” Gakpo pulled the older man to his feet, dusting him off like a delicate vase. Firmino was one of Van Dijk’s good friends, and any friends of Van Dijk were friends of his. “You took quite a fall there.”
“Yeah, I’m just distracted,” Firmino confessed. “I’m trying to teach Virgil some Portuguese, but he can’t remember what the words mean! I’m usually more patient than this, but honestly, when you have to explain all the slang words for ‘friend’ it gets a little annoying.”
“I totally get you! Alisson keeps asking me what this word is in Dutch, what that word is, how to conjugate it. I know Virg’s ‘calm as you like’ but me? I can’t explain all the ways to conjugate the word ‘love’ without dying of boredom. Ali’s poems to Virg are so freakin’ long that I just can’t translate it all without asking him, and…”
“Wait a minute!” Firmino grabbed Gakpo by the shoulders. It was sort of comical, since Firmino was almost half a foot shorter than Gakpo. “Did you say Ali’s trying to learn Dutch to impress Virg?”
“Well, not necessarily, but sort of.” Suddenly, the hilarity of the situation dawned upon Gakpo as well. “And Virg’s trying to learn Portuguese—”
“—to impress Ali.”
If he wouldn’t get a nasty bruise as a result, Gakpo would’ve slammed his head into the wall. “We are friends with a couple of idiots.”