Kulti(131)

The German squeezed the hand that I hadn’t even noticed he hadn’t let go of. Palm to palm, his thumb rubbed over the back of my hand, once. Just once. “If you would like me to apologize, I won’t.”

I closed my eyes and stood there, letting him hold my hand and not letting myself think about it too much. I was an affectionate person, and even though Kulti hadn’t really been one in the entire time we’d been getting along, you couldn’t be a soccer player and be weird about physical contact. So I would take everything he was willing to give me.

“What do you have to not be sorry about?” I asked him, eyes still closed.

His long fingers squeezed again. “Forcing you to be my friend.”

I felt myself smile. “You didn’t force me to be your friend.”

“I did,” he argued.

“You didn’t. I was nice to you when you were still being an extra-large pain in the ass.”

There was a pause. “Was this before or after you called me a bratwurst?”

I opened an eye. “Both.”

The corners of his mouth tipped up just slightly, but he stayed serious. “I won’t let them bench you.”

I nodded, staring straight at the man who mastered the resting bitch face, and I said, “All right.”

Words hung in the air between us. I felt compressed, squeezed. I was torn between knowing that I wasn’t going to tell him to beat it and knowing that I probably should.

Was this worth it? Was this worth being ostracized by my teammates? Being on my general manager’s hit list? Having my photo plastered on fan pages with the words ‘die bitch’ at the bottom?

I really had no idea.

I hoped so.



* * *



“Sal! You got a minute?”

My fingers gripped the nylon strap of my bag, and I felt my insides stir. The day before I had managed to avoid the two reporters loitering off the side of the field by hauling ass while they were busy talking to other people, but now… I hadn’t gotten so lucky.

I’d gotten to the field for practice early, but not early enough. Damn it.

“Come on, one minute. Please!”

With no one to hide behind or any other way to pretend like I hadn’t heard the guy calling out to me, I took a deep breath and resigned myself to getting this over with.

The twenty-something guy looked friendly enough in khaki pants and a neatly tucked in, button-down blue shirt. He smiled at me, his little handheld recorder ready and waiting. “Thanks for stopping. I have a few questions for you.”

I nodded. “Sure. Okay.”

He introduced himself and the website he was doing the interview for, and let me know he’d be recording our conversation. “You’re about halfway through the season now, how are the Pipers looking?”

All right. “Good. We’ve only lost one game so far, but we’re trying to stay focused and get through the next few weeks so that we can move into the playoffs again.”

“At what point does the pressure really start to get to you?”

“At least for me, it never lets up. Before the season even starts, I’m already worried about how things are going. Every game is important and that’s what our coaching staff has really drilled into us. It’s easier to stay focused when you’re worried about putting one foot in front of the other rather than trying to take on a huge obstacle at once.”

He smiled and nodded. “Who are you looking forward to watching this Altus Cup?”

I smiled at him, feeling a little easier. The Cup was starting in September, right after our season ended. “Argentina, Spain, Germany.” Almost absently I added, “The U.S.” Well that didn’t sound sincere at all. “I’m pretty excited.”

“Any plans for rejoining the U.S. Women’s National Team?” he asked.

That now-familiar rope of anger laced my wrists, and I had to shake it off. It was easy enough to live with not being on the team before, when things had been great with the Pipers, but now not so much. I was on my last reserve of patience. “No plans,” I said in a steady voice, even smiling. “I’m focusing on the Pipers for now.”

“You’ve talked about your work with youth players in the past; are you continuing your camps this year?”

“Those camps are starting up in a few weeks. It’s mainly low-income middle school kids and early high schoolers I aim for. That’s usually one of the most influential ages for kids to really stick to sports, so I love doing them.”

“Okay, one final question so you can get going: what do you have to say about rumors about a relationship between you and Reiner Kulti?”

Dun, dun, dun. I smiled at him and eased my little heart to slow down. “He’s a great person. He’s my coach and a friend.” I shrugged. “That’s all.”