Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Where do you want me to drop you off?” Marc asked.
Two weeks had passed since my concussion, and I was itching to start playing again.
I hadn’t been allowed to practice with the team, but I hadn’t totally slacked off.
I’d kept up running on my own and doing some easy ball-dribbling with the German in his backyard after giving my brain some time off to recuperate.
He made sure to stay at least five feet away from me at all times so he didn’t accidentally hit me in the face.
“In the front, please.”
He nodded as he turned on the street where the Pipers’ building was located.
Marc hadn’t been overly talkative the last week or so, and I knew it was my fault.
After my parents and Eric, he’d been the next person I told about possibly going to play somewhere else.
While he said he understood, he hadn’t taken it as well as everyone else had despite my explanation that I’d probably be sent to another team regardless.
Marc didn’t even pretend to not be sad about it.
Then again, no one spent as much time with me as he did. “Call if you change your mind and need a ride,” he said as he eased his big truck to a stop.
I got ready to open the door but waited, facing him. “I will, but it’s not a big deal for me to call a cab. I know you need to get to the next job.”
The man who used to give me wet willies when I was little simply nodded, and it tore my insides up.
I didn’t know what to say to him. Nothing could possibly come out of my mouth that would make him feel any better.
So I saved my words and instead, reached over to pat his knee.
“I love you, dude. Thanks for the ride.”
He puffed out a breath and tapped the top of my hand. “Anytime, Salamander. Good luck.”
Short words were a guilt trip from him. Bah.
I nodded and reminded myself for the twentieth time that I was doing the best thing for me by trying to find another team.
Plus, who said anyone would actually go through with everything and sign me?
I’d spoken to three teams on the phone, and all the conversations had seemed pretty positive.
Except the whole “What made you decide to leave the WPL?” question.
Any publicist would have wanted to murder me when I told the general managers the truth.
Maybe lying would have been the smarter idea, but I couldn’t do it though.
I told them. “I’ve given the WPL the last four years.
I don’t want to play where I’m criticized for things that don’t matter on the field.
All I want is to play. I want to win a cup. ”
They’d either take me or they’d leave me, but at least I’d go somewhere on my own merits.
Surprisingly, none of them had questioned my friendship with Kulti.
I hoped things worked out. I really hoped things worked out, but with the Pipers heading into the semifinals in three days, I knew I had to play better than my best.
The only thing holding me back was medical clearance from the team physician and trainer.
The doctor had done just that, that afternoon. I was healthy, fine. There wasn’t a single reason why they shouldn’t let me practice or play.
This was the reason why, three days later, I didn’t understand what the hell happened.
I WAS aware something was wrong when I realized Gardner was avoiding eye contact during our semifinal pregame practice, but I didn’t know for sure until he started going over the strategy he wanted to take against the Arrows.
“We’re going to make a few changes to the starting lineup for this game—”
Cue the screeching tire sounds in my head.
I fucking knew it. I knew down to the marrow of my bones what was about to come out of his mouth. My gaze shot over to the German, who was busy looking over Gardner’s shoulder, a furrow creasing the skin between his eyebrows.
He rattled off the names of the players starting: Jenny, Harlow, Grace, another, and another, and another.
They were all names that didn’t belong to me.
Disbelief made my face go hot when the only “change” to the roster was my missing name, replaced by the same girl who was always competing with me when we did sprints.
“There’s no reason we can’t win this,” Gardner said in a confident voice while I stood there, humiliated and nearly ready to commit murder.
I tried to tell myself while he stood there babbling encouraging words that I shouldn’t take it personally. It wasn’t like he hated me and didn’t want me to play. I cared what Gardner thought about me, I really did. He’d always been more than simply a coach; he’d been my friend.
Jesus Christ, I needed to scream.
Someone else could have rationalized that he wasn’t starting me because I hadn’t practiced in two weeks, and I’d sat out the last two games, with the Pipers winning just fine. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t because I knew this decision had been made by someone else.
It was fine. It was totally fine, I reminded myself. Just because I wasn’t starting didn’t mean I wouldn’t get to play.
Yeah, I couldn’t believe that either, no matter how hard I tried. It was the freaking semifinals, and I wasn’t going to play.
Big girl socks on.
This wasn’t the end of the world. This wasn’t the end of the world.
I let out a shuddering breath as Gardner wrapped up his speech. From over his shoulder, Kulti was staring at me. His face blank except for how prominent his jaw suddenly became. I knew what he was trying to convey with that look alone.
He was telling me not to be him.
He was telling me to keep it together. I needed to cool it.
Breathe. Deep breath. Big girl socks on. Wait, wait, wait.
It was Harlow who came up to me first as the team broke up to leave. She put a hand on my shoulder and tipped her head down. “Sally, this is horseshit,” she said in that same volume she would have used if she were talking about the weather.
“It’s fine, Har,” I told her, even though it wasn’t. It really fucking wasn’t fine. The veins at my temples were throbbing, for crap’s sake. I didn’t even think I was capable of being so angry.
“Fuck that, it’s not fine,” she argued. “I’m gonna go say something to them—”
Patience, patience, patience. “No, don’t do that.
Don’t bother, really.” I reached down to grab my bag and stood, attempting to calm myself.
Looking back at her face, I swallowed and couldn’t help but smile at my buddy.
She’d been there for me for so long. I put my arms around her and gave her a bear hug.
“I want to tell you before everyone finds out, I heard they’re trying to trade me. ”
She jerked back, her brown eyes wide in shock. “No fuckin’ way.”
“Yeah way. You see how they’re treating me. I’m going to try and get out before it’s too late,” I explained, trying my best to not sound sad about it. “It’s our secret. I have to tell Jenny—”
“Tell me what?”
No one else was around as she came up to stand in our triangle. Harlow was the one who answered. “The team is going to trade her.”
Jenny’s mouth dropped open. “What? Who told you that?”
I shrugged because it didn’t matter.
Tears immediately welled up in her eyes. “What team?”
“New York.”
Neither one of them said anything.
It was Harlow who asked, “What are you going to do?”
“Go to Europe, I hope,” I explained. “Maybe. If someone wants me.”
My poor Jenny’s eyes filled up with tears. “You’re really leaving us?”
Oh God. “I’m leaving this, not you guys. You know Cordero’s never liked me. I’m not really surprised he finally decided to get rid of me, but I can’t believe he’d try to pawn me off to New York of all places.”
“They’d never let you play.” Jenny shook her head.
A hand cupped my elbow before trailing a path all the way to the small of my back. The heat of a man’s body seared my side. “You’ll be fine,” a male voice stated.
It took a second for my brain to register what was happening. Kulti was touching me in public, at practice no less, in front of my friends and whoever else was left in the locker room.
When his hand slid up my spine and settled on the shoulder furthest away from him, the tension drained from my lungs and shoulders. This was the end. He was my friend, nothing else. I had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of.
Fuck it. I put my hand on top of his. “Hopefully someone will take me.”
“They will,” he stated with complete confidence.
I was glad one of us was certain.
His gaze settled on me, like he didn’t even realize there were other people there. “I need to talk to you.”
I wanted to ask about what, but figured I should wait.
“See you later?” I asked Jenny and Harlow who were watching us closely.
“Yeah,” they both agreed.
He didn’t bother waiting until we got to my car. Kulti stopped me in the middle of the parking lot, an exceptionally serious look on his face. “They aren’t going to put you in the game.”
“I know.”
“If we don’t do anything and the team moves on to next round, they aren’t going to let you play the final either.”
Grief and anger were so similar it was difficult to distinguish which one was crushing my lungs. “I know.”
Kulti took a step forward. He’d let his beard grow in the last couple of days, and it framed his face perfectly, really making his eyes pop. “Do you trust me?”
Did I trust him? My head jerked back a little and my eyebrows went up. I better be able to. “Yes.”
His nostrils flared as his chin tipped down. He resembled the man I’d admired on the field for so long. “Let’s talk to Cordero.”
I had just told him I trusted him, but I still wanted to ask what the hell we were going to talk to that asswipe about. Trust, right? He wasn’t going to screw me over. Kulti knew what was at stake.
I wanted to throw up, but instead I nodded.
“I’LL MEET YOU THERE,” Kulti said before disappearing into the first restroom we came upon.