The Option Play, page 4
“No, that’s not right,” I announced. “I don’t wish that at all. I don’t want to cause plumbing problems but I also would never do that to your stuff. I wanted to tell you thank you, that was the other reason I came here today. Thank you for giving me your coat and trying to help me last night. I appreciate it.”
Silence.
“I’m sorry I called you a jerk. That wasn’t nice of me.”
Karma looked up at the sky and sighed. He squinted a little as rain hit his face. “I don’t care,” he told me. “Do you want to come inside?”
“No. No, thanks.”
“You’re getting all wet.” He turned and walked into the house, and he didn’t close the door.
I stood there alone for a few moments before I took a step forward. I looked through the entrance where Karma had disappeared and then, sniffing and wiping my eyes again, I walked after him. The room was big and wide with a tall ceiling but it was very dark, especially after I shut the front door behind myself. I heard two voices arguing, the sound carrying through an archway at the end of the long hall in front of me. Well, one voice was arguing, and every once in a while, a deeper, slower voice would respond with a word or two.
“…exactly the problem,” the higher voice was saying when I walked into what was Kellen Karma’s kitchen. The man stopped his rant when he spotted me and I recognized him as the person who’d been sitting with Karma at the Silver Dollar the night before, the smaller, older guy. He recognized me, too, because he pointed and said, “That’s the girl who was groping you in the video at the bar.”
“I was not groping him! I don’t do that kind of thing in bars. Or anywhere else!” I said angrily. His eyebrows raised and he looked very doubtful. “I had spilled stuff on him, which was completely accidental, and I was trying to help. And then my ex-boyfriend fell on me and ripped my dress, which was also an accident. I didn’t mean to drag you into it,” I told Kellen Karma. “I really do hope you won’t get in trouble.”
“I won’t,” he said, but the other man shook his head at him.
“This is exactly what you have to avoid. Confrontations with local barflies—”
“What did you just call me?” I demanded.
“She’s a Woodsmen cheerleader,” Kellen Karma said, and I was surprised he knew that about me. I’d told him, but I hadn’t thought that he was paying attention.
“I used to be a Woodsmen cheerleader. I’m not anymore.” I took a paper towel from the roll on the countertop and wiped under my eyes. My head was pounding due to all the crying I’d done, and probably also due to being up for most of the night before. “I’m not a cheerleader because of all those accidents.”
“Sorry to hear that,” the smaller man said. He didn’t sound sorry. “It’s no good for my client, either.”
Kellen Karma had helped himself to a large glass of thick, greenish-brown liquid from his fridge and was swilling it. “Why are you his client?” I asked.
“I’m a consultant. An image consultant,” the other guy answered me. He reached into his pocket and handed me a business card. “Landon Zalamero,” he announced. That was what the card said his name was, too.
“Why do you need an image consultant?” I asked Karma, but I thought that I already knew the answer. “Is it because so many people think you’re a jerk?”
He frowned at me.
“We need to expand Kellen’s appeal,” the image consultant explained. “The Woodsmen play in a small market, both media and population.”
“It isn’t either!” I protested, and then they both stared at me like I was an idiot.
“Compare this place to San Antonio and the exposure the players get there. Compare it to the opportunities the Florida Cottonmouths have. The local sponsorship deals here are almost nothing,” the guy told me. “This media market is tiny. Miniscule. Detroit has its own team and fanbase, as does Chicago, as does Windsor. Kellen needs to go bigger, and I’m helping him. The video of you and the pictures currently circulating don’t help at all.”
“It wasn’t on purpose,” I told the image consultant, and his lip twitched into a smirk of disbelief. I decided to ignore him and looked at the other guy. “Will it hurt your contract negotiations with the Woodsmen or your trade to the Dukes?” I asked Karma.
“What do you know about a trade?” he asked me back.
I shook my head. “Woodsmen Wonderwomen are required to keep up on the team. I don’t read the gossip stuff, but I do know about most things happening with the roster.”
“Ever since Davis Blake retired, my numbers are down. That’s not my fault,” he said. “The quarterback last season was weak and the alternatives for next season aren’t any better. The new offensive coordinator is strong, but what I need is a QB who can read the defense and then throw a ball that I can catch. Consistently throw, consistently to me.”
“So you’re definitely looking for a trade?” I asked him.
The image consultant answered again. “No one said that. Don’t start putting out rumors to get yourself famous.” He narrowed his eyes and looked me over. “I think you’ve had enough exposure lately, don’t you?”
I got all choked up again, darn him.
“Did you actually lose your job? You’re not a cheerleader anymore?”
I turned to Kellen Karma. “It’s not over quite yet. I’m supposed to meet with my coaches at the stadium on Monday and I’m sure they’ll have people ready to walk me out.” Lyle, the very nice security guard, was going to feel really bad about having to do it. Maybe I’d bring him flowers or cookies.
I took another paper towel and wiped my face. “Tryouts start next week, too, and they’re going to tell me I’m not allowed to participate. I’m done. In the meantime, I have to deal with everyone else around here.” Mercy. I needed more paper towel. “I haven’t talked to my parents yet and I think they’ll be so upset. They were about the first strike. Not ashamed, just disappointed, and now I’m there all…naked,” I finished. “And I guess it looks like I’m, you know, rubbing you or something and my dad’s going to see,” I held the paper towel over my face, wondering how it was that I was standing in a stranger’s kitchen, crying. Kellen Karma’s kitchen.
“Crying doesn’t solve your problems,” Karma said.
I ignored that. “I wasn’t even drinking last night. I did before, when I got my first strike, because it was my twenty-first birthday and I went nuts. That was totally my fault but I shouldn’t have done any of it. I shouldn’t have gotten the first one and knowing that it’s two strikes and you’re out, I shouldn’t have gone to a bar and been around people drinking, I should have walked away even if I had poured beer on you, I should have run when Brown stumbled my way. If I had done anything right, I wouldn’t be in this position.”
“What did you say about strikes? Two and you’re out?” Landon Zalamero asked. “No, it’s three strikes in baseball.”
“I know that!” I snapped and then took a breath. “Sorry,” I told him. I blew my nose and turned to Karma. “Ok, well, you have your wallet. I need to go face the music and start dealing with this.” But I didn’t move at first and they both stared at me. “Now. I’m going now,” I said, and slowly started to walk.
I went back through the dark hallway, not at all ready for that music, and I stopped when I got to the exit with my hand on the handle. Staying in this silent, depressing house with two strangers appealed to me more than dealing with anything on the other side of the door. But when I heard Kellen Karma coming behind me, I forced myself to open it. I’d already done enough to the poor guy, and I wasn’t going to stand in his house crying. That was what my car was for.
The rain pelted down now but he followed me out into his driveway. “I didn’t know what that guy was doing,” he announced. “I didn’t know he was going to pull on your dress.”
“Me neither.” Now I was standing with my hand on the car door handle, still not leaving.
“Who was he? Your boyfriend?”
“My former boyfriend.” I rubbed my eyes, which ached like my head did. “I hope your consultant guy is wrong and this doesn’t mess you up.”
Karma nodded at me.
“And I hope your contract stuff works out, too,” I went on, but I couldn’t make this goodbye last forever. Eventually, he would want to get out of the rain and I would have to leave.
But he didn’t make a move to head into his house. He just looked at me and I looked back.
I sighed. “Ok. Bye,” I told him. “Thanks again.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Yeah, you did,” I disagreed. “You—”
I started to explain how he’d helped me the night before, but he kept talking. “Your boyfriend is an asshole. You have to be cognizant of surrounding yourself with the right people.” He squinted at me, shaking his head. “I suppose you already found out what happens when you don’t. It ends up like this,” he explained. “You’re exposed and humiliated.”
It felt like he’d pushed a splinter deeper, or squeezed a lemon over an open cut. “Yeah, I am,” I said, my voice cracking. That finally made me get into the car. I went down the long driveway and waited for the big gate to open, but instead of feeling like it was letting me out, I felt like it was letting the world back in. I sighed and released the clutch and drove away from Kellen Karma.
Chapter 3
I smiled a little as I saw the picture and read what Bexley had written. Yeah, I agreed in my mind, that did sound hard, but it also sounded fun. She had put up a shot of herself after the last Wonderwomen practice, totally sweaty, sticking out her tongue, and crossing her eyes—but still looking very beautiful. The coaches, Sam and Rylah, liked to make the workouts pretty tough at the beginning of the cheer season to weed out any whiners and Bex reported two cuts after that one night. And one more rookie candidate seemed close to dropping out on her own—she was just going to throw away her chance at being a Woodsmen cheerleader!
I shook my head and scrolled down more, reading Mary Claire’s opinion on another of the rookies and Macy’s emojis of agreement. Woah. That girl was young but she had that much dance experience? And she was so pretty, I thought, staring at the picture that Shae had posted of herself and the new girl, Danni. The two of them were going out for a smoothie together before they headed to the stadium for practice and they were both smiling and posing perfectly.
A tug on my ponytail made me look up. “Caitlyn, I’ve been asking you if we got that delivery yet,” my father said.
“Sorry, Dad. No, nothing yet.”
“Because I have to leave for your mother’s book club.” Those words made him look completely miserable. He hated the book club but he went every month for my mom, and tonight was their turn to host. He couldn’t even pretend that he had to leave due to an emergency at home, like there was a water leak or burglary or sinkhole or something that he had to immediately attend to. “We’re going to need that filler and primer by tomorrow morning,” he went on.
I knew the delivery was important. He had to get it pretty desperately, because I’d forgotten to put in an order when the supplies ran low and now we were just about out. Without that stuff, my dad and the other guys wouldn’t be able to complete the jobs he’d taken on. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’ll call again and I won’t leave tonight until it comes.” I didn’t have anything else going on, so I could sit at this desk until the next morning if I needed to.
“No, you don’t have to do that, Little Bit,” he told me.
“I will. I’ll stay and I’ll be sure to lock up really carefully after it gets here.” I knew that I wasn’t doing great for him and I was sorry, truly sorry. Now that my classes for the year had ended at Emelia Schaub College, working for my dad at his auto body shop and working out were pretty much it for me. I decided that I’d better do something well. My grades weren’t going to be too fabulous and since I’d been having some issues at the gym, my workouts had been getting worse, too.
So I grabbed the phone and sat up straight, ready to do better for my dad, and he kissed my cheek and left to read a summary of the book before the meeting. I waved to him a minute later as he walked past the window towards his car, slouching sadly. He really, really disliked the book club.
A couple weeks had gone by since I’d huddled on the couch in my house and explained everything to my parents about what had happened with the pitchers spilling, about Brown and the torn dress, and about the viral images of me with a Woodsmen player and how they weren’t what they seemed. Then I’d gone in and sat with Rylah and Sam to talk to them and after, I’d headed with Lyle the security guard to the Wonderwomen locker room in Woodsmen Stadium to clean out all my stuff.
I’d brought cookies to cheer him up, but Lyle was still very upset that I was leaving that way, and so was I. He’d walked me to my car and hugged me goodbye and I’d cried on his shoulder. Cried again. I’d need so much tissue during the last few weeks that I’d started carrying a bigger purse so that I could have a full-sized box with me at all times.
But I was definitely better, even if some things were still hard. It hurt to read the posts from my friends about the practices and look at the good times they were having together without me there. It made me feel bad to see that most of my followers hadn’t migrated to my personal social media accounts after @CaitlynWooodsmenWonderwomen had disappeared. Also, I’d been dropped from more than a few group chats with my former teammates. I wasn’t on the squad anymore so I didn’t need to be part of their communication, but still.
But the worst was when I spotted smirks and smiles on the faces of people who’d seen way too much of me. Way, way too much. I’d gotten a lot of interest from guys that wasn’t nice at all, texts and DMs and comments when I was out, like at the gym. Even one of the customers here had said—but I’d pointed to the door and told him that we didn’t need his business. It seemed like I’d developed a reputation that I didn’t want or deserve and mostly I was just trying to keep my head down, hoping it blew over.
But I was definitely better. Kind of.
“Uh, Caitlyn?”
I hung up the phone and tried to smile at Isaac, one of my dad’s other employees. “Yes, the order is definitely coming today and they’re getting annoyed by how much I’m calling to check on it. The truck is on the road and I’m going to stick around until it shows up here so you guys are prepared for tomorrow.”
“Uh, no, I wanted to talk to you about something else?”
I attempted another smile. “Yeah?” The bell on the door rang behind me.
“Uh, I wanted to know if you…holy shit.” He was staring over my shoulder like he’d seen a ghost or something, so I also turned to look.
No, not a ghost—a Woodsmen. Kellen Karma was standing in my father’s auto body shop. I stared. He stared. Neither of us said a word.
“Uh, wow,” Isaac finally broke in. “Wow, Mr. Karma.” He took a pen off the front counter where I sat and scrounged a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Could I get you to sign this?”
“No. I don’t do autographs.” Karma didn’t even look in that direction.
Isaac took out his phone. “Then can I take a—”
“No. No pictures.”
And that, exactly that, was why people thought he was a jerk. He’d helped me, yeah, but I could understand their feelings.
“Hi. Are you here for car repairs?” I asked doubtfully. I’d seen what he drove, at least one of his cars, because it had been parked outside his house: a yellow Ferrari Enzo. We really didn’t service a lot of those. Like, not one, ever. Not any other kind of Ferrari, either—the closest we usually got to a luxury car was when my friend Gaby brought in her BMW SUV.
“No. No repairs,” Karma said, and then he did look at Isaac. He gave him such a glare, so mean and threatening, that my co-worker’s eyes got huge and he stepped backwards. Isaac dropped his pen and paper on my desk, muttered something, and disappeared into the garage.
I looked after him, a little worried. He’d been terrified. “This is a place for cars,” I explained to Karma. “If you don’t need yours fixed—”
“I heard you were definitely fired,” he interrupted me. “Is that correct?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “I mean, no. I wasn’t currently under contract so they just said that I wasn’t welcome back. And I cleaned out my locker…” I reached in my purse for the tissue box and found that it was empty, so I used the paper that Isaac had left behind to blow my nose. Everyone had heard how the Wonderwomen had dropped me, even Kellen Karma who hadn’t even known the name of the squad before. “Sorry. I shouldn’t still be crying about it.” I tossed out the paper and wiped away eye makeup with my fingertips. “Did you really come here to talk about the Wonderwomen?”
“No.”
But then he just looked at me, frowning.
“Well, then—”
“You’re actually that upset that you’re not a cheerleader anymore,” he stated. “You seemed to be, when you were at my house, but I didn’t know if it was feigned or not.”
“Feigned?” I echoed. “You mean, fake? You thought I was pretending to be sad about what happened? No, I really was. I really am,” I corrected myself. “Why would I have faked it?”
He just kept frowning.
“Did you get in trouble, too? That was what the image guy said, that it wasn’t going to help you. I know he thought it would be bad for your contract negotiations. Which I didn’t mention to anyone at all,” I added. I thought I saw Karma’s head nod slightly. “I read that you’re talking to other teams,” I went on. Several, but mainly the California Cougars, the Leviathans, and the Cottonmouths in Florida. That was what Herb and Buzz had said, anyway, but nobody in Karma’s camp was giving interviews so those reports were only best guesses. “How’s that going?” I asked.
He stared at me. Hard, he stared at me hard, and not frowning anymore but in a way that made me shift on the metal stool I sat on behind the counter. “Fine,” he answered finally.
“Why are you here? Because it’s a little weird,” I said. “If your Ferrari didn’t get bumped, or you weren’t worried about me talking to Herb and Buzz—”
