AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I had just turned around and started to make my way off the field when he piped up. “You’re a good loser, Casillas!”
I started to shake my head as I walked off…
I kept shaking my head, even as I realized that he’d used my last name again.
“Someone finally got laid.”
I scrunched my face up and looked around. “Who? Phyllis?”
“Sal, that’s disgusting.” Harlow shuddered. “No. You know who I’m talking about,” she said with that look that said ‘you know who I’m talking about.’
“Heh.” I crossed my eyes at her and zeroed in on the overly aggressive bratwurst walking around the field, helping set up equipment with the rest of the staff. This was normal, except for the fact that hewasfreaking sort of smiling.It was as much of one as a man who had more in common with a robot was capable of, I guess.
Still, the smile went straight to my gut.
“Look at him. He looks happy. It’s weird and wrong, isn’t it?” she muttered under her breath.
It was weird and slightly wrong.
Tipping my head to the side, I kept rolling my socks up my shins and watched him for a second longer. The smile didn’t last long, and there was something else different about his face, his entire demeanor. He looked like a smug son of a bitch, the same smug son of a bitch that used to dominate the field.
Oh God. He was back. My gut said that he might have gotten laid, though he didn’t strike me as the type that sex would have made that big of a difference in him, but it was beyond that.
Those greenish-hazel eyes looked around the field as he shoved a big yellow obstacle into place, and he caught me looking at him. His eyelids lowered and one corner of his mouth pulled up into a smile that was one fourth the size of a normal one. It morphed into a smirk a second later.
I knew what he was thinking: loser.
That smirk said it all, though. I was right. Maybe he’d gotten laid, and I didn’t really like the way that thought made my ears feel strange, but I knew why he’d been smiling.
Because maybe he’d kicked my ass the day before.
But the truth was, at least the version of the truth I wanted to accept, he’d finally played soccer for the first time in years.
And you know what? As much as I hated the fact that he’d won by a point, I had to snicker to myself.You’re welcome, pumpernickel.
Damn that was annoying.Hewas annoying.
“Pssh. He probably stayed up doing inventory on his trophies last night.” I laughed.
Harlow snickered and laughed.
Waggling my eyebrows, I elbowed her in the side and gestured toward where the mini-bands were located for stretching. Jeez Louise, I was sore. I probably looked like a lumbering bear getting to my feet. Busy adjusting my bun and headband so my bangs wouldn’t get into my face, I barely happened to look up just as I was passing by Gardner, Kulti and Phyllis, the fitness coach.
“Morning,” I greeted them.
“Good morning,” Gardner replied.
Phyllis said something that was probably “good morning.”
The German grunted, “morning.” This stupid expression crossed his eyes, and I pretended to ignore him as I kept on walking. Well it was more of a limp than a walk.
My limp only got more pronounced after the first half an hour of practice. It got so bad that I started daydreaming about actually taking an ice bath. I mean, who dreams about an ice bath?
The cherry topping on my sundae of pain happened when I jogged by Kulti. He shouted after me, “Are you planning on running any faster today, Casillas?”
It took everything inside of me not to flip him off with both my middle fingers.
Practice wasn’t the best. I was sore all over; my hamstrings were too tight, my shoulders were a little sore, and I was tired. Yesterday had been too much. So yeah, I dragged ass. It didn’t help that everyone pointed it out. Two hours felt like ten and by the time the equipment was put away, I was beyond struggling. But I’d accomplished what I had set out to do, hadn’t I? I’d gotten Scrooge to sort of smile and he hadn’t talked a whole bunch of shit to me.
