“No, I don’t think I have,” Marshall said, running a hand over his whisper of a beard before holding the other out to me. “Nice to meet you, Kodi.”
“Nice to meet you, Marshall. Your Orlando All Cup games were some of the most exciting matches I’ve ever seen,” I said, taking his hand. Hopefully if I take charge of the conversation, then maybe he wouldn’t recognize me.
“Oh, thank you. They were exciting to play. But don’t let the team hear you say that, they’ll …” He trailed off and his eyes narrowed as he looked me over.
Shit.
“Are you —” he started to ask before Renee shook me with mock excitement.
“That’s right! She’s the one who flashed you on your first day here.”
Marshall’s eyes widened and my brain started running through a litany of negative possibilities. Would he ask for me to be thrown out? Get me fired? Yell at me for my irresponsible youth? Hit on me or expect something?
But instead of any of that, he did something completely unexpected.
He threw his head back and laughed.
A Distraction in the Booth
Olli
As we broke from the lineup to take our positions on the field, the stadium announcers started their usual banter. I normally tuned them out; Marshall was kind of a pretentious prick with a chip on his shoulder, though for a fair reason, and Lowery just talked so slowly, he’d put me to sleep if I wasn’t on the field.
Except today, it wasn’t their usual banter. It wasn’t even just the two of them.
“So Kodi, you’re the one who dragged our loner of a keeper on to social media and with one hell of post. How’d you do it? How’d you get that grump to open up?”
My head snapped up to the announcer window, but it was too far for me to make out if Kodi was really up there or not.
“Oh I didn’t do that much. What really opened him up was Liam’s account. You can’t underestimate what fans can do for a player. Even if they don’t go on socials much, like Kean, your support means the world. After all, without the fans, major league soccer wouldn’t exist.”
The crowd went wild for Kodi’s response and my jaw dropped.
Kodi was really up there. She was talking to Lowery and Marshall like it was totally normal. Talking aboutme.
I didn’t have the words to describe what I was feeling, but whatever it was, I didn’t like it.
“What’s your girl doing up there?” Fuller shouted at me. He and Taylor were the fullbacks and the only ones in talking range while Christenson did the coin toss with the ref and the other team captain.
“No clue,” I grumbled, eyes now glued to the screen at the top center of the field which showed Kodi in the announcer's booth. She was wearing an older jersey, a design that was retired before any of the current player’s started. Well, before I started. Whoever’s jersey it was, they were probably retired.
But itwasmy number. My number but not my name.
My brain, the evolved part of it at least, could understand what was happening. Kodi grew up in the area, she’s always liked soccer. Of course she’d have a jersey or two in her closet. And while we were on better footing, we weren’t exactly friends yet. Or back to being friends yet. So why would she go out and buy a new jersey,myjersey, to wear to the game instead of the one she already owns?
But another part of me, the part of me that took over when Kodi was crying or when she said the word ‘satisfied,’ the bone deep, primal part,thatpart said she should be wearingmy name. My PA, my childhood friend, my goddamn first crush, she should be wearingmyjersey.
“Dude, I think Kean’s gonna blow a gasket,” Fuller joked to Taylor.
The other man shook his head at me and said, “Focus up, man. We’re starting soon.”
“I am focused,” I lied. The cameras moved to the field, so my eyes flicked up to the booth. I couldn’t see shit, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away either. I wanted to know what she was doing, if she was watching me, what she was thinking.
But then the whistle sounded and I locked back in, vaguely aware of Taylor muttering something like it was about time.
Being a keeper was sometimes a lonely position, especially in games like these, where the other team’s defense was … inexperienced. Boston had gone through a near complete overhaul between seasons; new manager, new coach, and damn near new roster. And while none of the players were bad in a technical sense, they weren’t a team yet. They couldn’t get in sync.
And my team was taking advantage of that.
