I sucked in a breath through my nose, my hand squeezing the door handle. “I’m only trying to tell you this isn’t the end of the world. You’ll get through this like you always have. At the end of the day, this isn’t a big deal, all right? ”
Kulti kept his attention forward; his index finger went up to scratch at the side of his nose. I could feel the arrogance coming off of him. Good gracious. “How many endorsements do you have?” he asked in a cold voice.
“What does it matter how many endorsements I have?” I replied evenly. I wasn’t going to let him make me feel insignificant just because I didn’t have the backing or the fan base he did.
“You’re a kid with one endorsement who makes in one year what I used to make playing ten minutes of a single game. I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me what’s important and what’s not important.”
Indignation burned my throat. I straightened up my spine and shot him a really miserable look, which would have been a lot more effective if he was actually facing me. Because what a fucking douche-bag. I had this horrible urge to kick him right in the balls. “I’m okay with you being upset that your private life is getting joked about on national television, but I didn’t think you’d be a snob when all I’m trying to do is put this in perspective for you.”
“You don’t know a damn thing,” he muttered.
Jesus Christ. “I know enough. You’re not the only person in the world that’s done something they’ve regretted. So what if you have your license suspended? Whoopty freaking do, Rey. But it’s done and over with, and all that matters is what you do with yourself from now on. Being a prick isn’t the way to go about it. But what do I know? I’m poor and I’m young, right?”
Knowing there was nothing left to do or say, I opened the door and turned my whole body to exit the easiest way possible for my ribs. “Thanks for the ride and for coming with me,” I said right before hoisting myself out.
Nothing. He didn’t say a word as I shut the door.
Well.
Chapter Eighteen
To be fair, I had been warned.
Jenny had sent me a text message letting me know that practice on Friday had been bombarded by reporters wanting the scoop on Reiner Kulti’s supposed DUI.
I had just begun wondering why people would care when I reminded myself that I didn’t—I shouldn’t. Especially not after someone had been a massive asshole to me. For four days I stayed at home, and for three of those days I let myself fume over how he’d spoken to me.
I made more money in a day than you do in a year for doing the exact same thing. Of course it pissed me off. The salary scale was a hard fact, as much as it sucked, but he didn’t need to be a pretentious dick about it.
Then to top it off, although I hadn’t exactly expected an apology, I had definitely not gotten one. Not a text, not a phone call, nothing. So maybe I wouldn’t have been so bothered by the overabundance of media sectioned off from the soccer field if Kulti wouldn’t have been rude when I was only trying to be a good friend.
“Sal! What do you have to say about your coach’s public record?” one yelled.
“How do you feel about—“
I waved them off and kept walking toward the field. “Sorry! I have to get to practice!” It was the truth; I wasn’t lying. I did have to get to practice. After four days off with my ribs still the slightest bit sore and my stomach still brushed over with scabs, I had to get back into the swing of things.
My bout with an imaginary virus needed to be over.
“You’re back!” Genevieve, one of my teammates, greeted me as I walked passed her. “Are you feeling any better?”
As long as no one punched me in the rib, I would be. Unfortunately that wasn’t what I could say to her. “Way better. Good job on Friday, by the way.”
She smiled at me and went back to putting on her cleats.
Most of the other girls greeted me as I walked by them, saying that they were happy to see me back or that they’d missed me. It was an exaggeration more than likely but I’d give them the benefit of the doubt. I sure as hell had missed them—at least the field—and Jenny and Harlow for sure. Getting stuck indoors for four days had been torture.
Arms came up from behind to wrap around my neck. “I’m so happy you’re back,” Jenny said into my ear, giving me a squeeze that had me freezing in place.
“I missed you too,” I gripped her forearms before reaching back to smack her in the hip.
She only hugged me harder before pulling away. Standing back, Jenny tipped her head over in the direction of the media, waggling her eyebrows at the same time. “Nuts, huh?”