How I Lost You (13 page)

“Well, what was it then?”

“What?” She turned back to me, rubbing at her nose, peeved.

“What did he say to piss you off?” I growled, aggravated with both of them.

She went back to her thumbnail and ignored me.

“Kya!”

“Nothing. It was nothing.”

“Then stop acting so pissy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to start this thing?” I crossed my arms and glared until she finally sighed and did up her own seatbelt. When she snapped it shut, I put my key in the ignition and started it up.

“You're the only person I know who makes me wear a seatbelt,” she mumbled.

“I shouldn't be.” I shoulder-checked and put the car in reverse. “Besides the annoying bell that goes off, it's respectful.”

“I respect you. You don't need to make me wear a belt to prove it.” She pursed her lips at me, pretending to kiss me.

“To yourself,” I corrected. “Respectful to yourself. You're worth protecting.”

She stuck her tongue out at me and I smacked her leg and then drove to the Outdoor Paintball Palace. I think we both made a silent truce to get along on the drive to the outskirts of town. I loved the lush green hills and views of the blue water, but Kya had grown up there and was almost oblivious. Soon enough, we were laughing and gossiping about the players we'd be matched up against. Lola would put us with a couple of other guys we played with in tourneys. Kind of our unofficial team for the summer.

“We can handle any guy out there,” she said. “Team BBS. Buds before studs.”

I whooped and minutes later, pulled the car into a field. Cars were parked all over it. Loud music pumped from different vehicles with open doors and trucks with guys sitting in the back. All that noise competed with a rock song playing over the main speakers in the speedball arena. We piled out of the car and pulled our gear from the hatchback. A referee walked by and nodded at Kya and me as we headed toward the play area.

Lola stood near the concession area near the entrance. She wore a neon pink shirt advertising NexGen Pods with her shorts and trademark purple high tops. The colorful look worked on her. She had a timer hung around her neck like jewelry and a clipboard tucked under her arm. She lifted her free hand and motioned us over.

“You're not playing?” I asked Lola when we got closer.

“Pulled my groin taking a dive,” she said. “At the practice you missed last weekend.” She squinted her eyes to glare at me. “Not so cool,” she said.

“I know,” I told her. I side-glanced at Kya, but she was waving to someone on the other side of the field. “Yeah. We're sorry,” I said and knocked my elbow against Kya.

Kya dropped her gear on the ground at my feet. “Hey, Lola. Totally sorry we missed it. Hey, can you watch this for a second? I really need to pee. Too much coffee this morning.” She shot her lip up in half a smile. “I'll be right back.”

Kya took off and Lola and I watched her go. Then Lola turned back to me, shaking her head. “So what happened? It's not like you not to show. You disappointed me.”

I dropped my gaze to the ground and kicked at some loose pebbles. “I know. I'm really sorry.” I didn't want to tell her that the real reason for missing started with K and ended with drinking.

“Being a pro takes hard work. College league just as much. You want to have a chance with the Grinders, you can't make excuses. You show up.” She narrowed her eyes and flipped back her hair as a sudden gust of wind blew it in her eyes.

“I know. I do, take it seriously, I mean.” I bit my lip, not wanting to lie about why I missed practice but not wanting to blame Kya either. “There was kind of an emergency. A family thing. It won't happen again.”

It had been circumstantial, after all. And a crisis. And Kya was almost family and she'd needed me.

A silence hung over our heads and a couple of regular tournament players jogged toward us, already dressed in their full gear. Peter and Mike. They stopped when they spotted us.

“Hey, Lola, Grace,” one called. “Looking fine today, ladies.” The two boys stepped closer.

I clunked knuckles with both of them. “Fine enough to kick your butts.”

This was my comfort zone with boys. I could handle testosterone-charged guys strutting their masculinity before a game. When we first started playing tourneys, the boys used to think they were going to hose us down with paint, but they'd learned quickly that we were tough. Legit.

Lola laughed. “That's my girl. Best not get her all riled up, boys. You know that's when she plays her best.”

I grinned, happy to see her mood shift to one more pleasant.

“You do like to kick boy ass, don't you?” Peter said.

“Only 'cause you like to get your ass kicked,” I answered.

A buzz of static cracked from the arena speakers, hurting my eardrums.

“You're one heck of a soger, I'll give you that, Miss Black,” Peter said.

“Soger?” I asked.

“Paintballer with mad skillz.”

“Aww,” I smiled. “Look at you, sweetening me up. Do you think we should get married?” I joked.

He punched me lightly on the arm. “You're like one of the guys to me, Grace. And I ain't marrying no dude.”

I punched him back. Hard. “Lucky for you that didn't hurt my feelings.”

He laughed as he rubbed at his shoulder. “Can't say the same thing about my shoulder.”

I grinned. “I didn't know you were so homophobic.”

His friend laughed. “We don't judge. But look around. Mostly straight-man territory.”

I glanced around at the mostly male crowd. The few girls that were scattered about were probably girlfriends and honestly were dressed kind of provocatively, even with the unusual heat. “That is stereotypical on so many levels.”

He shrugged. “Like I said, we don't judge.” Music on the speakers was interrupted by the crackly voice of an announcer calling for the first teams to get ready to play.

“That's us,” Peter said. “Good luck, Black,” he said. “See you on the field.” He made a motion of shooting paintballs at me and I pretended to catch them in my hand and pop them into my mouth to eat them. The two laughed as they headed off toward the arena.

“Be afraid,” I called, slipping on my comfortable paintball persona.

I smiled, watching them leave.

“So everything's okay?” Lola asked.

I glanced back at her. “Yeah. Fine. I really am sorry about missing Sunday. I hope you'll invite me back. It won't happen again.”

She nodded. “I forgot my sunglasses. I need to go find an extra pair.” She brought her hand up to her eyes to block out the sun. “Things okay with Kya too?”

I hesitated and then smiled. “Sure. I mean, she's got some personal stuff going on but she'll be fine.” It was as much as I could say.

She nodded. “Okay. Well, listen. I want you to work it out there today. Okay? Show me you want it. Okay, Grace?” The sun passed behind a cloud and she brought her hand down.

“Yeah. Of course. Kya will too.”

“We'll see what Kya does out there. Problem with her is that she has it but she doesn't always bring it. I don't think she wants it as badly as you.”

The speakers crackled again and a roar went up from the people sitting on the bleachers waiting for the first game to start. We both glanced over.

“I'll take heart any day. I like your consistency, Grace. You're valuable every game and you communicate. And whenever you find weaknesses in your game, you adapt.”

“Whoa, thanks,” I said, looking back at Lola. She usually wasn't so lavish with praise.

“No thanks needed.” She tilted her head, studying me. “You know how sometimes people have blinders when they love someone? Like everyone else can see something but that person can't?”

My cheeks warmed but I nodded slowly.

“Like the girl whose boyfriend treats her like crap? Everyone tells her to leave him but she keeps making excuses for his behavior.”

I nodded again. “Um. Yeah.” I shifted back on my heels.

She nodded, her eyes trained on the field. She didn't saying anything for a second. “Don't be that person.”

I opened my mouth, trying to think of a retort, but my tongue was useless as a blocked marker.

“I'm going to split you and Kya up today,” she said. “Put you on opposing teams. I want to see how you two do individually and against each other.”

Another cheer went up in the bleachers and I glanced over and saw the Thrashers dressed in full gear, prepping to go out for the first game of the day. “Are you serious?” I pressed my lips together to keep the shock off my face. “But we always play as a team.”

“Well, we're going to try something new.” She pulled the clipboard from under her arm and checked it. “Kya will play with Steve, Coop, and the D'Ailly brothers.”

“Steve Blender?”

She nodded and I groaned.

“Jotham and Justin are cool, but Steve?”

“I know he's an ass, but you're going to have to deal with guys like him in the college league all the time,” she said. “And I want you to play with our new female player, Chantelle D'Ailly. And yes, she's Jotham and Justin's sister, in case you're wondering.”

I raised my eyebrows. I'd heard rumors about her, but she'd never been to Splatterfest and I'd never met her or seen her play live.

“She's kind of a newb,” Lola said. “But she has serious accuracy and heart galore. I want you to play with her on your snake side.”

My heart sank. I had nothing against the girl. I'd heard some good things about her, but Kya and I were a team. Her on snake side, me on Dorito. Salt and pepper. Left and right. Nerds and ice cream.

Lola lifted her hand to her forehead to block out the sun again as it emerged from behind the cloud and glanced toward the concession stand. She pointed a pink fingernail. “She's over there.” I glanced where she pointed.

Chantelle had her back to me but she was tall and athletic-looking with a long brown braid hanging down her back. She turned as if she sensed us watching and smiled. She was cute. I recognized her from around town. She went to the other high school.

“This is her first outdoor tourney. She's been playing speedball with her brothers mostly. I want to split her from them too. See how she does on her own.”

Chantelle waved and smiled and I lifted my hand and acknowledged her.

“Did you hear Jotham's traveling with a semipro team to Huntington Beach this fall?” Lola asked as she waved to Chantelle.

“I heard.”

“And Justin is young but he'll be going pro too someday. I have high hopes for Chantelle.”

“How old is she?” I asked.

“Seventeen. She'll be a senior next year.”

Hmm. I wondered if she had NCPA aspirations. College level all-girl teams were rare, especially one that rocked as hard as the Grinders.

“Oh, I almost forgot. One more thing.” Lola reached into the backpack slung by one strap on her shoulder. She dug inside it and pulled out something. “Would you mind wearing a camera today?” Without waiting for my answer, she handed me a headband with a small camera attached to the front of it. “I want to get some footage for a new webcast I'm putting together. It will be seen by Grinder eyes, so play fierce.”

“You want me to wear the camera?” I asked, dangling it on my hand.

She nodded and her forehead wrinkled up. “That a problem?”

“Why me?”

She glared at me. “Because I want you to. I want you to show off a little, Black. And show off Chantelle too. She's good. The Grinders are interested in her too.”

“Usually Kya wears the Pro Cam,” I mumbled, pushing my luck.

“Not today.” She pressed her lips tight and her eyes flickered with challenge. “You don't want to do it, Grace?”

“No. Of course,” I said, feeling like a bit of a traitor to my BFF.

“Good.”

There was a flurry of pops from the arena and a roar from the crowd. The first game was underway. I hadn't even noticed the countdown. The music volume went down a notch.

“There're only two spots with the Grinders next year. Your job is to make sure one of them is yours. Worry about yourself.” Lola scowled at my sour expression. “Kya's your friend, she's not your responsibility.”

“I don't know,” I mumbled.

“How bad do you want it?” She looked toward the arena and then at her watch. “We're playing Capture the Flag today. Resurrection.”

I nodded.

“Kya gets a little predictable in these sequences. Maybe catch some of that on tape. I want her to see it. See if she can learn something and apply it.”

I nodded again, wanting to stick up for Kya, but knowing I'd pushed my luck enough. I ducked down and tucked the camera in my gear bag.

“Show me what you can do. Lots of chatter. Take some chances. Think on your feet and remember you're wearing the cam. Take a leadership role, okay?” She gestured with her hands, imitating a run-through. “Show me your strengths. I want you to want this.”

She clapped me on the back. I spotted Kya skipping back to us, looking happy and carefree. How Kya handled this news could go either way. She got closer, dance-walking to the rhythm of the beat blasting from the concession speakers.

“'Sup, Lola?” Kya said, her mood seemingly improved by the emptiness of her bladder.

“You two need to suit up.” Lola checked her clipboard. “I was telling Grace I'm splitting you two up today. To shake things up a little, you're going to play with Steve and the D'Ailly brothers today, Justin and Jotham.”

Kya stopped boogying her hip and stared at Lola, her mouth open, her eyes narrowing. “Are you kidding?”

Lola looked her right in the eyes, standing straighter and using her height to her advantage. Kya was tall, but Lola was taller. “Do I look like I'm kidding?”