That sort of smile grew maybe a millimeter. He grunted his greeting, looking around at the three fields that seemed to form a U-shape. Two of them were already full, but the one that my friends usually played on was mostly empty, with only a few people gathered.
“Come on, before we get stuck on a shitty—” I winced at myself. Was I allowed to cuss in front of him even though we weren’t on Pipers’ hours? “—crappy team.”
He tipped his head down in a lazy nod and followed after me as I led him around the outskirts of the field. “They’re all really nice,” I told him, not that he’d care, “but I think we should keep your identity a secret.”
Kulti shrugged but didn’t say a word as we approached what I quickly counted to be seventeen people. Damn it. Recognizing more than half of the people hanging around, I waved at the ones I knew and headed toward Marc and Simon, who had their backs turned to me. As soon as I was close enough, I kicked each one in the ass with the side of my foot. “Hey, guys.”
Marc turned around first, frowning at getting kicked until he realized I’d been the one to do it. “You shit, you could have told me you were coming.”
I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “Last-minute decision. Live with it.”
Roughly, the man I worked with every day shoved me toward Simon, who gave me a big grin before pulling me into a full-frontal hug that made it seem like it’d been weeks instead of days since we’d seen each other. “Glad you came, Salmonella. We need you.”
“I told her weeks ago that she should come out, but someone’s too good for us regular folks,” Marc added just to be a pain.
“You, shut up. I’m here, and I brought reinforcements.” I finally waved at Kulti, who had stopped a few feet behind me and to the right. “My friend and I wanted to play, so I figured I’d come down and see if you had spots for us.”
Marc and Simon looked over and around me to view a reconstructed version of Kulti. Neither one of them said anything for so long that I started to think they recognized him.
It was Marc who raised an eyebrow, mouthing “Friend?” And Simon, who didn’t have a filter in his big trap, asked, “You finally got a new boyfriend?”
“Friend,” I insisted. I looked at Kulti for some clue as to what I was supposed to call him, but he didn’t catch on to the question inmy voice. “Rey? This is Marc and Simon. Marc and Simon, this is… Rey.” Saying his name out loud, like we were actually friends, was strange. It was like writing with my left hand. I almost felt like I’d get in trouble for saying it out loud, but I didn’t let myself think about it too much.
The two men I’d grown up playing with, didn’t miss a beat.
They were obnoxious, but they weren’t impolite. Each one made sure to shake Kulti’s hand before settling back into place. Simon didn’t look twice at him, but I noticed Marc staring at him a little too intently.
Shit.
I’d tell him the truth later, once I was sure he wouldn’t lose his shit and start crying. Would he be pissed? Of course, but it was either him being mad at me or the possibility he’d fall to the ground and start kissing Kulti’s feet.
“So, you have room? I think I counted seventeen people, right?” I asked, rocking back on my heels and swinging my stuff with my other hand, keeping a steady eye on Marc.
Simon made a noise as he looked behind at the people who had gathered. “I’ll see if somebody wants to sit this game out and play the next one instead.”
“All right, if not, then I’ll sit it out and see if someone will swap with me next game,” I offered, still watching the dark-haired man I’d grown up with.
Simon, a tallish blond, rolled his eyes and scowled. “Right. You know you can ask half of these assholes if they’ll let you play, and they’ll fight over who will do it.”
I snorted and let him head toward the group, leaving me with Kulti and Marc. Marc was looking at Kulti like he was trying to undress him. Lines furrowed his forehead, and a second later, he slanted his gaze over in my direction and the confusion deepened.
“Hey, Sal?” he asked slowly, cocking his head to the side. Kulti was busy looking around, aloof. Thankfully.
I shot Marc a look that clearly saidshut up. “Later.”
“Come here,” he insisted in a low voice, eyes narrowed just a bit more.
Fortunately, Simon chose that instant to call everyone together to choose teams, so I turned away. With my boss-slash-friend on one side and one ex-professional soccer player on the other, we made our way toward Simon.
But Marc wouldn’t leave me alone. Knocking his fist against mine as we walked, he leaned toward me. “Sal, is that?—”
“No.”
“Holy—”
“Be quiet about it at least, big mouth,” I hissed under my breath so that Kulti wouldn’t hear me.
Marc stopped walking. His normally tan face went white. “Are you shitting me?”
