Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The first sign that something was off was when I spotted the three people on the edge of the field halfway through Pipers’ practice two days later.
Two of them I recognized from the team’s office staff, and the other person, carrying a kit, was a stranger.
It was only on rare occasions that management showed up during training, if there were photographers on the field or if there was an exhibition game going on, but never without a reason.
Yeah. No.
Then the clapping started. The meeting of palm on palm that paused our warm-up. “Ladies, we’re taking it easy today.”
Easy?
Apprehension rippled down my spine.
“Apparently, we’re doing a round of drug testing today.
It’s nothing to worry about. As most of you know, you are subject to random drug testing throughout the season.
If we can have your cooperation, we can get through this quickly, and after your sample is received, you’re free for the rest of the morning,” Gardner explained, frustration tracing his words.
Random drug testing? The last time I’d been randomly drug tested had been back in college.
The stipulation included in everyone’s contract was more of a blue-moon-type occurrence.
If they wanted to, they could test you, but apart from the health exams and blood tests we took at the beginning of every season, I’d never heard of it happening.
So, yeah, that was freaking weird.
I had nothing to hide. The hardest drug I took was an over-the-counter painkiller, and that was only in a dire situation like with my foot.
There was no reason for me to think the testing had anything to do with me.
Then Gardner called me into his office that afternoon.
“SAL, TAKE A SEAT,” Gardner said from his spot behind his desk.
I gave him an uncomfortable smile and sat down.
Coaches just didn’t call you after practice was over, the day a random drug testing went on, and ask you to come in for a chat. They didn’t. I’d been in the middle of a nursery with Marc choosing some annuals for a project when the call came through. I’d been shitting bricks since.
There were only a few reasons why Gardner wouldn’t just tell me over the phone what he wanted: they were trading me, dropping me, or some superfast test had come back and found something in my urine that said I was doping.
Me, doping. Jesus Christ.
I wasn’t so badass or indestructible that I wasn’t on the verge of losing it.
First, I didn’t want to get traded. Second, I sure as shit didn’t want to get dropped from the team; even though my contract was good for another year, you still never knew.
Third, I sure as hell wasn’t ingesting anything that was remotely illegal.
But still.
I managed to tell Marc what was going on, and the “oh shit” look he’d given me was enough.
Taking a deep breath, I gripped my thighs and steeled myself. I might as well bite the bullet. “So, what’s going on, G?”
He sat back, crossing his arms over his chest and smiled. “Always to the point, that’s why I like you, Sal.”
Gardner might like me, but he wasn’t telling me what was going on. “Are you letting me go?” To my credit, I sounded calm, not at all like I was on the verge of taking a bat to his office furniture.
A bat to his office? Dear God. I needed to tone it down. “No.” He reeled back. “Where the hell would you get that from?”
“You asked me to come to your office to talk to me privately, and we had a drug test this afternoon.” I just barely kept the hello to myself.
His eyes rolled up to the ceiling, a hand going to the back of his neck. “Damn. I didn’t think about that. I’m sorry. That’s not why I want to talk to you.”
Yeah, that wasn’t entirely convincing.
“I’m not worried about the results. I’m sure they’re fine, but I did ask you to come in because of the drug test. I had an interesting conversation with Sheena earlier.”
“Okay.”
“She told me that an email came in this weekend with your name and some pretty wild accusations on it.”
That bitch. That fucking bitch. It didn’t take a genius to know where the email had come from. I squeezed my thighs a little tighter, controlling the rage bubbling up inside of me.
First it was someone on the team tattling on me to Cordero, and now Amber was making crap up?
I didn’t think I was a bad person. I did community service work from time to time, I mowed my elderly neighbors’ lawn for free, and I smiled at strangers.
Sure, sometimes I had bad thoughts about people, but it was never unprovoked, though that didn’t make it any better.
There were better people in the world than me, and there were sure as hell people a lot worse too.
So I couldn’t help but take it a little personally that these miserable hags were taking their crap out on me.
“Any idea where something like that would come from?”
“Amber.” I gritted my teeth. “It was Amber. No one else would do something like this.”
Gardner wasn’t surprised. I’d told him what happened years ago, when I’d gotten back from the last national team tournament and burst into tears in front of him. “Christ. She’s still not over that mess?”
I couldn’t say that, if I were in her shoes, I would have gotten over it either, but I liked to think I wouldn’t go as far as she had. Actually, I knew I wouldn’t. Only a total asswipe would make bogus allegations that could jeopardize someone’s lifetime of hard work.
I swallowed the bitterness back, reminding myself of all the good things in my life. “Nope.”
With a sigh, he shook his head and scratched at his neck. “In that case, I’m sorry for asking you over. I kept my eye on her during the game, but it didn’t seem like she was doing anything unusual.”
Of course he hadn’t heard all the names she’d been calling me during the game, but whatever.
“I’m going to give her coach a call and tell him he needs to get her under control.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. If she does something like this again, we’ll figure it out, but really, don’t worry about it.” She was a crappy person who had to live with the effects of her awful personality for the rest of her life. That was bad enough.
Gardner’s eyebrows went up in disbelief, but he didn’t argue. “You let me know if you change your mind.”
I nodded and stood up, ready to get out of there so I could think of as many bad names for Amber as I could in private. “I will. Thanks for letting me know though, G. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime.” He watched me for a second before saying, “Sal, you know you can come to me with anything, right?”
“I know.” It was the truth. “You’re a good guy, Coach.”
Gardner smiled as I made my way out of his office with a wave. “Rest up tonight. I need your head in the game tomorrow.”
“You got it,” I said, closing the door behind me.
I made it about ten feet down the hallway before an amount of anger I didn’t think I was capable of filled my entire soul. Amber had taken away the national team from me, fine. But now she was stooping low enough to try and jeopardize my career in the WPL?
That bitch.
I went home and took my anger out on the bathtub with a sponge and cleaner.
A LITTLE MORE THAN halfway through the game the next day, I accepted the fact that I was playing like complete and total crap.
All right, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but the point was I was playing pretty terrible. I was distracted and angry. For once in my life, I couldn’t push everything else down to focus.
The maliciousness in Amber’s actions made my head want to explode.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t done enough in the past to begin with either.
Talking to her after the last game ended up stirring up some real resentment from me that not even my dirty bathroom could make go away.
My head and my heart weren’t in it, and I was too pissed off to give a shit.
So when my number went up on the board in red, and another girl’s number went up in green, I wasn’t totally surprised they were taking me out.
I couldn’t get angry about it either. Embarrassed and resigned, yes.
I’d only gotten substituted a handful of times, and it had always been for a good reason: unavoidable cramps and torn muscles.
There was also that one time I got too aggressive after a player elbowed me in the kidney and hadn’t gotten caught, but Gardner took me out before I did something I might regret.
But this time there was no valid excuse for how sloppy I was playing or how absentminded I was today.
It was pathetic. I knew better. I did better. I could handle more than this without blinking an eye, and I failed spectacularly.
I slowly jogged off the field, avoiding everyone and anyone’s eyes, as I stared straight forward.
Just as I was heading to the bench, the only route available was a sliver between Kulti and Gardner, a hand grabbed my wrist. Gardner wasn’t the grabbing type, so I knew before even looking over my shoulder who it was.
Those crazy-colored eyes stared down at me from their position eight inches above mine. A furrow creased the space in the middle of his auburn eyebrows. “What the hell is going on with you?” he snapped.
I took a sharp inhale and met his gaze directly with a single shrug. “I’m sorry.” I wasn’t going to make any excuses. There weren’t any.
That must have pissed him off because his nostrils flared. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?”
“There’s nothing else to say. I’m playing like shit, and you’re taking me out. I get it.”
Honest to God, if Kulti was the type of person that smacked himself in the forehead, he had the expression on his face that said he’d be doing it right then. “Get out of my face right now; I’ll deal with you later.”