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Wait a second. “You—“ I couldn’t get the words out. I had to swallow and process what he’d said. “You paid for their tickets here?”
Kulti didn’t even bother looking at me; his attention was directed out the window. “Yes.”
I dropped my head against the steering wheel and took a deep breath. This was all too much for one afternoon. Way too much. Everything seemed to pile on top of me. “How do you expect me to ever pay you back?”
“I don’t,” he answered, turning to face me. “The light is green.”
Sitting up, I kept my gaze forward. I couldn’t look at him. If I did, I wasn’t sure what the hell I would do. “I didn’t even think about how they made it here. I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry for not thanking you more.”
Nothing.
I clutched the steering wheel and kept my mouth closed the entire drive back.
I was getting traded.
Half of my teammates thought I was a tramp.
The idiot next to me had been paying for people’s plane tickets to come to my youth camps, my free camps.
I was at least a little bit in l-o-v-e with the same idiot, but realistically it was more like a lot. My childhood feelings had come back in full force, more real than ever. Plus I knew myself, and I didn’t tend to half-ass anything.
And said idiot was leaving at the end of the season.
What the hell was I doing with my life? Everything I’d worked up to, worked for, suddenly seemed to be repelled by me.
What was I going to do?
My nose tickled in response.
We arrived at his house and parked, but still I couldn’t get myself to say anything. I wanted to cry. I really wanted to cry, and I sure as hell didn’t want to do it anywhere near here.
I kept my gaze down and followed the German up to his door where Franz was already waiting. We’d barely gone inside when I felt a choking cough in my throat. I knew I needed to get away from them. “Where’s your bathroom?” I asked him in a voice that sounded even weird to me.
“Up the stairs, first door,” he answered, his voice distant enough to let me know he wasn’t standing that close.
“I’ll be right back,” I lied, already hauling my butt up the stairs, desperate to get away.
Two swipes at my leaky nose later with the back of my hand, and I was inside. I didn’t even bother turning on the light before I was plopping onto the porcelain rim of a tub I could appreciate when my life wasn’t falling apart.
I was getting traded because I was friends with someone.
My throat convulsed and I hiccupped.Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. Don’t do it, Sal. Don’t you fucking do it.
I managed to hold out thirty seconds before the next hiccup wrecked my upper body. It was followed by another and then another. By the fifth one, I hunched over and pressed my palms to my eye sockets. I didn’t cry hardly ever. When I was upset, I did other things to get my mind off of whatever was bothering me. There were very few things in life worth crying over, my mom had told me once.
Sitting on that tub, I really tried to tell myself that getting traded wasn’t the end of the world. I tried to convince myself I shouldn’t take it personally. It was just business and it happened, sometimes, to other people.
That only made me cry harder.
I was an idiot. A stupid fuckingidiot.
When I thought about Kulti cashing in favors to get players to come to my camp and buying kids’ shoes and how he’d given me a freaking hug, it only made things worse.
I cried like a baby, a big silent baby that didn’t want anyone to hear her.
“Schnecke,did you—“ Kulti’s voice abruptly cut off.
In hindsight I would realize that I didn’t hear him come in because he didn’t knock. He just barged right in, sticking his big fat head in the room like there wasn’t a chance that I was on the toilet doing something he wouldn’t want to see. I was so caught off guard, I couldn’t muffle the next sob or bother to try and hide it.
