AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Kulti’s cheekticked like he was remembering everything he’d been through too. It wasn’t like he was a talkative forthcoming person to begin with, but when he answered with one word, I figured it was still a touchy subject for him. “Yes,” was the only thing he said.
All right. I cleared my throat and sang under my breath, “Tough shit, frankfurter.”
There wasa pause before he let out a snicker. “Sal, I don’t know how you haven’t gotten elbowed in the face yet.”
Iopenedmy mouth and pressed the tip of my tongue behind my upper teeth for a second. “One, at least I tell you things to your face and not behind your back. And two, I have gotten elbowed in the face. Multiple times.” I pointed at a scar right smack on my cheekbone, then the underside of my chin and lastly right above my eyebrow. “So, suck on that, pretzel face.”
To be fair, he was fast, but I also wasn’t expecting it.
The couch cushionhit me right in the face.
“Sal, I haven’t you see here in forever,” the receptionist on the other side of the window said as I handed her a clipboard with my paperwork, driver’s license and medical card.
“You makeit sound like that’s not a good thing,” I told her with a smile.
She winked. “We’ll call you in for your x-rays in a few.”
Inoddedat the older woman and smiled at the couple waiting patiently behind me. I walked back to my seat in the corner of the room where the German was sitting with the television remote in his hand, flicking through channels on the mounted flat-screen. I muffled a groan as I sat, my hands gripping the armrests on the journey down.
He was eyeing me, only slightly shaking his head.
“What?”
He looked down, whether at my hands or the v-neck T-shirt I had pulled on I wasn’t sure, and then returned his gaze to my face. “You.”
“Be quiet. The last time I took time off from training was when my grandfather died. I don’t play hooky without a good reason.” I blew a long breath out of my mouth and stayed upright, back straight, hands braced to help me up when they called my name.
He reachedover and smacked the side of my knee with the back of his hand. “I’ll be back.”
Iopenedmy mouth and let a huge grin take over my face, the action halting him halfway up. The only reason I didn’t laugh was because it would hurt, but I still snorted. “Okay, Arnold.”
Kulti didn’t look particularly impressed. “He’s Austrian, not German, you little shit,” he deadpanned, his face saying I was annoying him, but his eyes said thought I was a little funny.
Besides, I hadn’t meant that I thought Arnold was German, but if it annoyed him, it was all the same.
Stretchingup to his full height, he hit my knee with his and made his way out of the small reception area in the direction of the restroom. I pulled my phone out of the black leather purse my parents had bought me for Christmas and started typing a message to Marc. I let him know I made it to my appointment, and I’d be going in for an x-ray pretty soon. I hadn’t screwed him over too bad today by taking the day off, there wasn’t anything terrible on the schedule, but still. I felt bad, even if he was the one who told me I better not tag along until I knew for sure I wouldn’t be doing more damage to myself by working.
“Doyou mind turning the volume up?”
Iglancedup from my phone to see the man who had been behind me checking in with his wife, looking expectantly from his seat across the room. He was referring to the television. “Sure,” I said, taking the remote from Kulti’s empty seat and absently raising the volume on the television.
It tookme a second to realize what the topic on television was for today.
“…it isn’tthe first time money’s bought one of these guys out of trouble. How many times do their handlers hide things that they don’t want the public to find out about? There are employees for every big sport you can think of, who follow these superstar athletes around, dragging them back to their hotels after an entire night spent at a strip club or partying. Some fans don’t want to hear about their favorite athletes doing normal, human things. Honestly, I’m not surprised if there is a DUI on Kulti’s record that no one can find solid proof of it. The guy is a German national hero, even if half the country hates his guts. After the two seasons he spent with the Men’s American League, he’s practically an American hero—“
Ichanged the channel, my heart beating up in my throat.
Jesus Christ. They were discussing him having a DUI on freakingSports Room? Didn’t they have anything better to talk about?
“Excuse me. You mind putting it back?” the man across the room asked.
Iwas suddenly unbelievablythankful that I’d told Kulti he needed to put on one of my hats before we left my apartment. Feeling like a little bit of a dick, I shook my head. “In a minute. I’m sorry.”
The stranger couldn’t believeI said no, and honestly I was surprised I’d said it too. But when it came down to it, I would rather this stranger think I was rude than Kulti walk over and see that crap playing. He hadn’t been acting weird so I didn’t think he knew he was being talked about on cable television, but what did I know?
“Areyou the TV police or something?” the stranger asked with a frown.
Itriedto reason with myself that he was just being a dick because I started it. “No,” I said calmly, looking him right in the eye because being shy when you’re being rude just makes things worse. “I’ll put it back on in a sec.”
