Page 181 of Kulti


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Get it together, Sal.Focus, focus, focus. “Find me after the game?” I asked.

“Yes.” He said a word in German I thought meant ‘always’ but I didn’t want to really think about it.

I flashed him a smile and got out of the car. Just as I was about to slam it closed, Kulti piped up, “Focus!”

There aresome games that I’ll sit back and recall like I was a fan in the stands watching the action.

The first half went slow and no one scored. There was nothing memorable about it.

In the second half, a light was burning under both teams’ asses. Defense and offense, both teams were on it. The game took a turn for the vicious by the time the fourth yellow card was thrown up; one was Harlow’s and two were mine. We hustled, we sweat. We ran and we fought against the Blazers.

And in the last fifteen minutes of the second half, a team scored.

It wasn’t us.

We couldn’t manage to get a solid hold on the ball at any point afterward.

And we lost. It was that simple.

We freaking lost.

It was like having your dog eat your homework. Losing reminded me of when you’re typing something in a document and then your computer restarts on its own. Or baking a cake and it doesn’t rise.

Using the word ‘crushing’ might have been a little extreme, but it was the truth. For me, at least. I was crushed.

Watching the other team yelling and cheering, hugging each other…

Honestly, I wanted to punch each of them in the face and follow that up with a good cry. You don’t always win and that’s the truth with everything ever, but…

We lost.

Ipressedmy closed fists to the bones above my eyebrows after time had ended. I looked up into the stands; the disappointment was apparent on so many people’s faces. I had to look away, watching our fans was chewing up my stomach. Pipers were scattered around the field, looking just as dazed as I felt. No one could believe what had just happened. I definitely couldn’t.

I swallowed and realized that this was the last time I’d be on this field.

I choked up.

I’d lost. We’d lost.

My family was in the audience. Marc and Simon were in the crowd someplace. My German was too.

Pressure squeezed my lungs as I made my feet move. They took me away from the opposing players celebrating, oblivious to the inner hell I was going through. The loss was bitter in my mouth and definitely in my soul. I shook a few hands, gave a couple of the girls on the Ohio team a hug and congratulated them on their win.

But Jesus, it was hard.

Everyone deals with loss differently. Some people need consolation, some people get angry, and others want to be left the hell alone. I was the type that needed some space.

If only I’d been faster, or gotten where I was needed instead of being busy taking my frustration out on a player that had tripped me…

I spotted Harlow with her hands clasped behind her head, cursing under her breath. She was still in the same place she’d been when the clock had run out. Jenny was even further away, hugging another Piper who looked like she was crying.

We’d lost.

And that loss bubbled in my throat.

“Sal!”

I scratched my cheek and turned around to see one of the opposing players walking toward me. She was a younger girl who had been all over me during the game, quick and creative with her feet. I mustered a smile for her, slowing my retreat into all-out mourning.

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