Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Hey, Gen. Good morning,” I said to Genevieve as she walked by me the afternoon of our next game, two days after the meeting in Gardner’s office.
The younger girl, who had always been friendly with me, kept on going. Her eyebrows went up as she walked by, and that was that.
Now, I didn’t think too much about it. I was used to being around girls.
Girls with all kinds of reactions to their periods: the ones who got unnaturally angry, the ones that cried, girls who retreated within themselves, the ones who wanted to stuff their face all day—all those and more.
It wasn’t a big deal. Mood swings, been there, done that.
I figured maybe she was having a crappy day or something. There was also the possibility she was on her period. Who knew.
Not even fifteen minutes later, right at the beginning of the team’s warm-up, I overheard someone behind me say, “Did you see the pictures?”
I couldn’t exactly pinpoint the person speaking, and I didn’t want to turn around until I heard a little more. It wasn’t like there were any other pictures besides mine and Kulti’s, but whatever.
“What pictures?” the other voice asked in a regular volume.
A second later, the original speaker said, “Shut up,” which was then followed up by “Ouch.”
Now speaking in a lower voice, the second person asked, “What pictures?” in a whisper.
“The ones of—” There was a pause. “—and Kulti.”
“What? No. What of?” the second voice asked.
There was another pause followed by “—was coming out of some building with him, and it shows them getting into his car.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s—” Pause. “—for sure. I heard they had a meeting with Cordero and Gardner about it and that they didn’t deny it—”
I felt awkward, so, so awkward. Even after I made myself stop listening to what they were saying, I still felt aggravated.
It had already begun, the rumors and the stretched truths.
The urge to turn around and tell them that wasn’t exactly how it’d gone was overwhelming, but I had to practice what I preached.
I hadn’t done anything.
The only problem was that the longer practice went on, the more I felt the weight of multiple stares on me. I overheard a few of the whispers. It wasn’t every girl, but it was enough of my teammates to make me feel dirty.
I knew that I hadn’t done anything to be embarrassed about, and Kulti knew that we hadn’t, so it shouldn’t matter what everyone else thought.
If I reminded myself of it enough, it was easier to ignore the girls who gave me funny looks.
Besides the looks and the whispers, practice went okay.
The last game before our week off, on the other hand, didn’t go so well.
We lost in overtime. The locker room was filled with disappointment afterward.
It wasn’t until the coaching staff had left and I’d started changing, intent on showering once I got back to my place, that Jenny saddled up next to me on our way out.
The expression on her face prepared me for what was going to come out of her mouth. “Sal, I didn’t want to say anything, but some of the girls are talking about you.”
I gave her a smile over my shoulder that I wasn’t totally feeling. “I know.”
That didn’t make her look any less concerned.
“It’s fine, Jen. I promise. I haven’t done anything I shouldn’t have, and I’m not going to run around defending myself.”
“I know.” Her dark almond-shaped eyes were long. “I don’t like hearing them say things about you.”
My neck got all hot. “Me neither. It doesn’t matter though.” I looked my friend in the face, understanding that she really did believe me when I said I hadn’t done anything with the German. At least someone knew better. “You know I didn’t and I know, and I’m okay with that.”
Jenny pressed her lips together and nodded stiffly. “If there’s anything I can do—”
“Don’t worry about it, really. There’s nothing to get mixed up in. They’ll get over it.” Or they wouldn’t. Blah. But I wasn’t about to let people who would so easily talk about me behind my back get me down.
And wasn’t that kind of shitty? I would have done just about anything for the girls on the team, even if it was someone I wasn’t close to.
Yet here they were, gossiping like I hadn’t worked with most of them, trying to help them improve, or trying to motivate everyone when we needed it.
On top of that, someone within that group was the person who had thrown me under the bus with Cordero weeks ago.
Whatever. Whatever. I’d been through this before, but this time I wasn’t going to let guilt get the best of me. I had nothing to feel guilty about.
My friend made a face before slipping an arm over my shoulder as we walked. “I know who’s gotten a nose job,” she offered. “I also know who has a yeast infection. What you do with that is up to you.”
I started laughing and hugged her back. “That’s all right, but thanks anyway.”
Jenny eventually dropped her arm as we got out to the parking lot. Her face still held worried lines at her mouth, but she changed the subject. “Are you still going home for the break?”
“Yeah, it’s my dad’s birthday, and I haven’t been back in a while. You?”
She undid her high ponytail and let her long, black hair fall down her shoulders. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning. We have a couple of exhibition games coming up in a few days. I won’t be back for almost two weeks.” The “we” she was referring to was the national team.
I was a supporter of Jenny and Harlow, and I always rooted for them. But for once in a long time, I felt a twinge of something like grief.
“Fun,” I told her, only halfway meaning it. I mustered up some enthusiasm for the person who was always supportive of me. “I’ll make sure Harlow tells Amber I said hi,” I said with an evil smile that made Jenny snort.
“You’re bad.”
I smacked her butt. “Only when I need to be.”
THE FAMILIAR KNOCK that I’d come to associate with Kulti started up at seven fifteen the next morning.
I’d already been awake for almost an hour and a half, finishing up my morning run and making it home to pack my bag before showering so I could head out on my drive to San Antonio.
The last thing I expected was for the German to show up on my doorstep, especially not at seven in the morning.
I grabbed a sweatshirt off the pile of clothes on my bed with every intention of putting it on when the knocking became even more persistent. Impatient ass. I carried it to the door with a sigh, not even bothering to check the peephole.
“Bratwurst?” I asked as I undid the deadbolt again.
“Ja.”
I swung the door wide and started to wave him in, only slowing down my movement when I noticed what he was wearing—a shirt, jeans, and scuffed brown leather boots. It was the first time I’d seen him in something that wasn’t workout pants or shorts. Huh. A second later, I noticed something else.
There was a backpack over his shoulder. And he was staring at me.
I didn’t miss the tic in his jaw as he looked from the seven-year-old tank top I had on over my sports bra to the stretchy shorts that looked more like underwear than anything else.
I also didn’t miss the way his eyelid started twitching right before his gaze finally slipped upward and the twitching got worse.
“What?” I asked him when he hadn’t moved his body or his gaze.
Those murky green eyes flicked down to what I was wearing again. His voice was too steady and slow. “You open the door half naked all the time?”
Oh dear God. “Yeah, Dad.” I blinked at him and stood off to the side to give him room to come in. “You coming in—” I eyed his bag again. “—or are you leaving?”
“I’m leaving,” he said, even as he walked into my place, still giving my workout clothes a disapproving scowl.
“Where are you going?” I closed the door behind him.
Kulti dropped his bag right by my work boots. “To Austin.”
“Really? Why?” I mean, I liked Austin as much as anyone.
I’d been there a hundred times in my life, but it wasn’t my favorite city in the world. I wouldn’t expect this guy to want to spend his days off in Austin when he could afford to go just about anywhere.
The German made his way toward my kitchen and straight to the cupboards, pulling out a mug. “I have an appointment this afternoon.”
Why the first thing I thought he was referring to was plastic surgery, I had no idea. I planted my hands on the counter between us and leaned forward, giving him a disbelieving look. “No.”
He glanced over his shoulder as he found a small pot and began filling it up with water from my fridge. “Yes?”
“Rey, buddy, don’t do it. You’re still really handsome, and honestly you can always tell when someone’s had surgery done to them. I don’t care what the plastic surgeon says, it’s noticeable,” I told him totally seriously.
He set the pot down on the stovetop, but he didn’t turn the burner on.
His broad shoulders slumped forward as he lifted a hand and pinched the tip of his nose.
When he turned around to face me, his eyes were closed and the tip of his tongue was at the corner of his mouth.
“Burrito.” He opened one eye. “I’m getting my tattoo worked on. ”
“Ohh.” Well, I felt like an idiot.
He nodded, the movement all smart-ass.
“The one on your arm?” It was the only one I knew of. He nodded again.
Why he was going all the way to Austin when there were about a million tattoo shops in Houston was beyond me, but whatever. “That’s neat. I’m going back home.” I then realized he didn’t know what “home” was to me. “San Antonio. It’s close to Austin.”
Kulti shocked the shit out of me when he said “I know. I’ll pay you a thousand dollars to take me to Austin.”
“What?”
“I will pay you a thousand dollars to take me to Austin.” He gestured with his head toward the bag that had been left by the door. “Gas as well.”
I scratched my nose, trying to make sure he wasn’t joking. My gut said he wasn’t. He definitely wasn’t. “You want me to drive you to Austin for your appointment?” I couldn’t help but ask.