Big Girl Socks? On.
Voice? In check.
Steeling myself, I pushed my shoulders down and looked at him dead-on. “Yes?”
“Sprint time!” someone yelled.
My bravery only went so far because the next thing I did was turn around and run toward the line where sprints began. A whole nice round of conditioning, meaning running sprints at increasing amounts of distances, was my love-hate relationship. I was fast, but that didn’t mean I really loved running them.
I lined up between two of the younger girls who were always trying to run faster than me. The player on my right bumped her fist against mine right before we took off. “I feel like today is the day, Sal,” she smiled.
I wiggled my ankle around and slowly rested the weight on the ball of my foot. “I don’t know, I’m feeling pretty good today, but bring it on.”
One more fist bump and the whistle sounded.
Ten yards, back and forth. Twenty, back and forth, Forty, back and forth. Midfield, back and forth. Then the whole field and back.
My lungs seized up a little by the end of it, but I sucked it up and pushed forward on the last leg. I finished up with enough distance between myself and the next person to sleep okay that night. I thought about how good it was that I always tried to push myself on my own runs a little harder each day.
Rubbing my hands up and down on my upper thighs while I caught my breath, I smiled at the girl who had challenged me at the beginning when she made it. She looked a little annoyed but managed to keep a smile on.
“I don’t know how the hell you do it,” Sandy panted.
I panted right back. “I run. A lot.” When she gave me this expression that said ‘no-shit-Sherlock,’ I snorted. “I do the bike trails at Memorial at six-thirty every day before coming here. You’re welcome to come with me if you get up early enough. I’m not the greatest company to talk to that early in the morning, but it’s better than running alone, right?”
“Really?” she asked a little too incredulously.
“Yeah.”
She wiped at her forehead and gave me this funny look. “Okay. Sure. That sounds great.”
I rattled off where I parked my car in case she really did want to go and wasn’t just saying she did. By the time we finished talking, everyone else had finished their sprints too, even the slower players. Not that anyone was slow exactly, but slower.
Practice finished soon after that, so I finished getting my stuff together, keeping an eye to see where Gardner was so I could give him a tiny piece of my mind. Regular shoes on, a clean pair of ankle socks beneath them, I made my way toward the head coach busy counting balls to make sure they were all there.
“Are you ready for the game?” he greeted me first thing.
“I’m ready,” I agreed, watching his sneaky face for any sign that he felt remorse for taking advantage of my trust.
“Everything okay?” he asked, straightening up when I didn’t move from where I’d been.
Glancing around to make sure that no one was too close, I turned my attention back to the male Gossip Girl and scowled. “Did you tell Kulti what I said?”
The old bastard had the decency to look just a little sheepish. “I had a talk with him this morning on the way here. I figured it was time,” he neither agreed nor denied.
“Did you tell him it was me who said something?”
His brown eyes were careful and consistent. “He must have guessed it was you since you’re the only one that’s ripped him a new one.”
He didn’t deny it. I’d also been the one he saw coming from the offices too. It wasn’t like the cookie trail hadn’t been left behind. On top of that, I had laid into him for being a piece of horse crap to my dad. Once again, it was my fault.
It was done, and there was no point in dwelling on it.
“You can tell me if there’s a problem,” he stated in a careful honest tone that I couldn’t help but believe.
What was I going to do? Tell him oh, he gave me the stare down? Nope. Or worse, tell him about me picking him up from a bar? Yeah, no.
Instead I gave him a reassuring smile that I didn’t necessarily feel. “Everything’s fine, I was just… curious if you said something or not. No big deal.”
“No. I didn’t say anything.”
“Great, thanks G. I’ll see you later then,” I sighed, turning around to walk toward the bathroom, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders.
I sighed to myself.
The last thing I wanted was to bring negative attention to myself, especially where Kulti was concerned. The team had a lot banking on him, and though I was considered one of the hometown favorites because I was from Texas—and I was the leading scorer for the team—I understood priorities. One of us was a lot more popular than the other, even if it was only me playing, and one of us got paid a lot more.