Chapter 48
A Drunken Crash Out
Kodi
It took three drinks, but I was feeling better. I still had a job, I had a hot soccer player boyfriend who loved me, and he was also still employed.
The whole situation ended a lot better than it could have.
I just had to live with the fact that I’d never get my dream job with my favorite team beside my hot new boyfriend.
Getting to call Olli my boyfriend was nice, though.
“All right, no more drinking,” Olli said, taking my drink out of my hands.
“What? Why?” I shouted, trying to grab my glass back.
“Because you’re clearly talking out loud without realizing it.” Cheeks red, he downed my drink and set the glass aside.
“I was?” I went red too, turning to Brooker on my other side. “What I’d say?”
“You bemoaned everything that happened and called Kean your hot, new boyfriend.” Brooker shrugged. “I think he’s happy about it, though, so I don’t know why he’s cutting you off.”
“Because I don’t want her to have a hangover tomorrow. And you should stop now, too. You have to play.”
“No, no, no. We’re not stopping until we figure out how to prove Hansen wrong,” Brooker argued.
“Christenson,” Olli whined to the man on his right, but the captain had his head on the table, passed out.
“Did he really have that many?”
“No.” Taylor shook his head across from us. “I think he’s stress napping.”
“Let’s poll the fans,” Brooker said before taking out his phone and starting an Instagram live.
“Brooker,” I groaned. “You’d get a much more effective stream if you announced it beforehand. Even an hour’s notice helps.”
“Hey, everybody,” he slurred ever so slightly. “We’re here in Houston.”
“Charlotte,” Taylor corrected.
“And I wanted to introduce my new PA, Kodi. She used to be Kean’s PA, but he fell in love with her so now she’s stuck with me.” Brooker leaned over and wrapped an arm around my neck. I groaned and shoved at him like an annoying younger brother.
“Don’t air out our private lives,” Olli shouted, leaning over me to try and grab the phone.
“Quit it, Kean.” Brooker slapped at him and sat back up. “Anyways, they were childhood friends and she didn’t recognize him at first because I guess the whole beard and grumpy face thing.”
“Brooker!” I shouted this time.
“What? It’s super romantic.”
“No, it’s embarrassing I didn’t recognize him.”
“No, no, no. Look!” He held the screen up to my face, way too close, for me to see the comments. A lot of them were just rows of emojis or women asking Brooker to take off his shirt, but there were a handful of comments about loving Olli and my story and wishing us well.
“Okay, thank y’all.” I handed the phone back to Brooker. “But I’m not in the mood to celebrate my relationship with the super hottie right now. Even if he has thighs I wanna bite.”
“What?” Olli said, an eyebrow raised. “That’s it, I’m getting you some food.”
“See, Kodi wanted to be the team’s social media manager, but because these two got in trouble for dating, it’s a no-go.”
“Mmm, it wasn’t just that, they didn’t like that meme of Olli. Or my flashing incident.”
“Flashing?” Taylor, Brooker, and Fuller shouted. Heat flooded my face and I looked around for Olli, but he’d gone over to the bar.
I hope he brought back mozzarella sticks.
“Yeah, I knew about that,” Carter said, then turned to the others. “It was just some young, drunk thing though, so drop it.”
I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “You’re my favorite after Olli.”
“What?” Brooker shouted. “Did you guys see that? My PA says I’m not even her second favorite!”
“Then be a good employer or whatever and maybe the rankings will change.”
“I’m going to tell Kean to order water, too,” Carter said, shaking off my hand. “For the whole table.”
“Carter is a party pooper,” Brooker told the live stream.
“No, he’s not. He’s keeping the team together. Unlike me,” Christenson said, sinking down to rest his head on the table.
“Dude, you can’t blame yourself. There’s a lot going on,” Taylor said.
“But it’s my job to keep the team running smoothly. I’m sure I could’ve made this transition go over better. But now Kodi can’t follow her dreams.”
The table went quiet.
When I said the thing about my dream job, I hadn’t thought about it from their perspective.
I mean, yes, this was my dream job. But it wasn’t my dream the way it was their dream to play soccer.
I didn’t grow up with this job in mind, I fumbled and went through dozens of other possibilities before I found it.
I was crushed it didn’t work out, but not devastated like they would be if they couldn’t play anymore.
Well … maybe a little devastated. After all, now that Olli and I are together, it would’ve been so perfect.
“Oh shit, Christenson, folks are asking about the selling rumors,” Brooker said, covering the camera. “What should I tell them?”
Christenson sat up, took a big breath in, then chugged the rest of his beer.
“Fuck it. Tell them they’re trying to sell as fast as possible and doing whatever it takes to find a buyer because their kids, all of them together, stole a fucking yacht or some shit. And now they’re in legal trouble, rich folks suing rich folks.”
“Oh shit,” the whole table whispered.
“Is that seriously why they’re selling?” I gaped. Despite being a fan of the Dastards before joining as an employee, I’d never paid attention to who the owners were. All they did was pay the upfront fees for the games to happen, not really worth my attention.
“Yeah, but don’t tell anyone outside the team,” Christenson said, slumping back down.
“Dude, I’m on a livestream,” Brooker said, trying not to laugh. But when he pointed out that the stream was still going, I broke out in a fit of giggles. And when I broke, Brooker did, too.
“Wait, are you serious?” Christenson asked, snapping up to grab the phone from Brooker. The other man passed the phone over and Christenson held it close to his face, scrolling through the comments.
“Oh, this is bad,” he muttered, then held the phone out so he was properly in frame and gave the camera an awkward smile. “Could you guys maybe forget that you heard any of that? Please?”
“Oh my god,” I said through giggles and reached out to take the phone.
After some shuffling around with the napkin holder to get a good angle, I looped an arm around Brooker to bring him into frame.
“So the Dastards owners are transitioning to … another career path. Why don’t y’all tell us what you wanna see in the new owners and our players will say what they hope for, too. ”
“What?” Brooker asked, eyes going wide.
“We’re diverting the conversation,” I whispered back. “That way any gossip that comes from this stream will be more about what y’all want and not about leaking the information.”
“Oh,” Brooker said, elongating the word as he leaned back. “I guess I’ve never thought of it before. I mean, when you’re picking a team to play for, your choices are kinda limited to who’s got openings for your position.”
The other guys murmured in agreement.
Sensing a moment, I grabbed the phone and switched to the back camera to film the team. The shot was a little crooked, but I’m sure whoever was watching cared more about seeing their favorite players than the quality of the stream.
“This is my first year on first-string,” Fuller said. “When I got the offer, I didn’t take much into account beyond not getting screwed over in terms of pay and shit.”
“I took into account the other teammates,” Taylor said, nodding to Christenson. “I admire how Cap handles himself in interviews and on the field.”
“Mmm, yes. More so the team than the coach,” Ricci said, giving Alvarez a nudge. The other man cringed but nodded. I moved the camera off them. A new owner didn’t necessarily mean a new coach. Though I hope it did, if only for Christenson’s sake.
“So what kind of owner do you want?” I asked, pointing the camera back at Brooker.
“Well, it’d be nice to have an owner who actually attended our games, even if it’s just the home games.”
The guys all raised their glasses to drinks to that.
“I’d honestly be fine so long as it’s somebody I didn’t have to worry about being … you know,” Sosa said, scrunching up his face and the whole table groaned in agreement.
“I’d like it if they knew how the sport works and have a general understanding of what everyone does. Specifically what the coach should do,” Christenson murmured.
“Look, I’m telling y’all, Langston would be perfect,” Brooker said. “She has all this business experience, she’s not some rich white dude, she —”
“Wait,” Alvarez interrupted. “Is she a rich white woman? 'Cause that’s just as bad sometimes.”
“No, she’s — I mean, I didn’t talk to her that long. She’s Black, but I’m assuming she’s American. We were more so chatting about how it’s disappointing that the owners don’t do more local work themselves and they just throw players at the charities.”
“Is Brooker putting his foot in his mouth again?” Olli asked, appearing behind me with a basket of mozzarella sticks.
“Oh my god, you’re my favorite.” I shoved the phone into Brooker’s hands and stuffed my face with cheese.
“All right, all right, don’t eat them all at once.” Olli tried to pull the basket away, but I snatched it out of his hands and turned so my back was to him when he sat down.
“Oh, this Langston lady is actually pretty cool,” Taylor said, looking at his phone. “Apparently the business experience Brooker was talking about is Wall Street shit. And her blog thing is almost completely about community wellness and outreach.”
“Oh, I bet she’d love my calendar idea,” I said through a mouthful of mozzarella. Everyone turned to me with various looks of confusion, so I chewed and swallowed my food before repeating myself.
“Oh, yeah. Rosa told me about it. I think it’d be fun,” Jimenez said and I offered him a mozzarella stick for agreeing with me. Olli tried to grab one too, but I smacked his hand.
“I bought them.”
“Yeah, for me.”
“Wait, explain this idea to your player,” Brooker whined.
“Well, you know how there’re firemen calendars that —” My eyes fell on Booker’s phone and I slammed it down. “No spoilers!”
“Okay, okay.” Brooker picked his phone up and cut the livestream without an explanation or goodbye.
“So you want us to make the equivalent of a fireman’s calendar?” Carter asked, returning to the table with a tray of waters, passing them out to everyone.
“Well … yeah. But each player will get a month featuring their favorite local charity, then the last month will be for the team and a long-standing charity y’all’ve worked with.
And then on our socials, each month, we’d do a deeper series about the organizations and the player.
It’s a whole year of media material that highlights each player’s values.
And like, I’m sure one of you will pick a shelter and that one hot, shirtless pic with a puppy will sell us out. ”
“Oh, dibs!” Brooker shouted, looking around at the others like he expected a fight. But the only one who looked a bit disappointed by Brooker’s claim was Sosa.
“That’s an amazing idea, Kodi. Seriously. I’m sorry I couldn’t get that to work out for you,” Christenson mumbled.
“No, no, it’s …” I sighed, looking down at my cheese sticks. I only had one left. “It’s all right.”
“It’s okay if it’s not all right,” Olli said, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to my head.
“It sucks. And if there’s an opportunity for you to get that job, with us or with another team, I’ll make sure you get it.
” He paused looking in my eyes, which had gone blurry from tears.
I nodded and he gave me another small kiss before saying the best thing he could in the moment.
“And I’ll get you another basket of mozzarella sticks. ”