I sniffed and made my way over, scrounging up a smile that could only be meant for them. There were other people yelling out my name and I waved, but I walked as fast as I could toward my family, needing to get off the field before the presentation of the championship trophy began.

Grabbing the first rungs of the barrier, I hoisted myself up to plant my feet on the concrete foundation and stood up, getting wrapped in a hug the instant I was standing. “You couldn’t have done any better,” Dad said in Spanish, straight into my ear.

Don’t cry.

“Thanks, Pa.”

“You’re always my MVP,” he added as he pulled away, hands on my shoulders. His smile was sad for a moment before he squeezed my shoulders and made a face. “Have you been working out more? Your shoulders are bigger than mine.”

That only made me want to cry even more, and the noise that came out of my mouth let him know how hard this moment was for me.

My mom finally pushed my dad to the side with a huff. “You played so well,” she said in Spanish, kissing my cheek. Her eyes were watery, and I couldn’t begin to imagine what was going through her head. She never said anything, but I knew big games like this were always hard on her. Things with my grandpa were an open wound that I wasn’t sure would ever heal.

“Gracias, mami.” I kissed her cheek in return.

She patted my face and took a step back.

My little sister on the other hand just stood there with her usual smart-ass smirk on her face, shrugging her thin shoulders. “Sorry you lost.”

From her, I would take what I could get. “Thanks for coming, Ceci.” I gave her the best smile I could while I tried dealing with how I’d let everyone down.

The noises on the field were getting louder, and I knew I needed to get off the field as soon as possible. “I should go before they start. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

They knew me well enough to know that I needed the night to decompress and get over this. One night. I’d give myself a night to be angry.

Dad agreed and gave me another hug before I dropped back onto the field and hustled toward the exit leading to the locker rooms. A few of the Pipers were standing around the doorway. Some of them were crying, some comforting each other, but they were the girls that had been talking about me the last few weeks. Not in the mood to deal with my teammates’ crap, I kept walking passed them, ignoring their looks as much as they had ignored me lately.

“What did I tell you? A fucking robot, man,” Genevieve’s voice carried through the concrete walls.

We’d fucking lost and I didn’t have any feelings. Fantastic.

Don’t cry.

Security guards and other personnel dotted the hallway. I shook a few of their hands and let them give me pats on the back. I sniffled to myself, letting the disappointment flare through me again. I knew I’d be fine. This wasn’t the first big game I’d lost. Unfortunately, it was one that had taken months to work toward with so many obstacles along the way, and with Kulti so predominant in the process, it seemed so much more painful than usual.

If only I’d done better. Been the player everyone expected me to be.

“Schnecke.”

I jerked to a stop and glanced up. Making his way toward me from the opposite end of the hall was the tall lean figure that I wasn’t sure I wanted to see yet. There were other players walking ahead of me, and he ignored them as they tried to speak to him. He didn’t even pay them a second glance, which was unbelievably rude, but it made me shake my head when I was fighting for my dignity. I couldn’t even wrestle up my Big Girl Socks.

Kulti stopped the second he was about a foot away. His big body was solid and unmoving, and his face that perfect mask of careful control that didn’t give me a hint of what was going on in his big German head. It only made me feel more awkward, more uncertain, more frustrated that we hadn’t won.