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 in my 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?”
“No.”
I kept on going. If I didn’t pay attention to him, then I couldn’t confirm anything.
They figured out who were going to be the team captains by a process of guessing numbers. The winners were one man I’d played with a few times before, whose name I thought was Carlos, and the other I didn’t know. After an intense game of paper-rock-scissors, Carlos got to pick first. He immediately looked over and waved me forward. “I’ll take Sal first.”
“What a suck-up,” Simon said, as I walked by him, an affectionate smile on his face. “I’m Sal and I play professional soccer. Look at me,” he added in a high-pitched girly voice right before kicking me in the butt.
The other captain called Simon’s name, and I swatted his leg away with a laugh.