DROP THIRTY-NINE
“What the f**k were you thinking?” Pickle angrywhispered at him in a corner at the locker room.
Hector wisely stayed out of her reach. “It’s one match. You got this.”
“Hector, we barely had thirty minutes of training together. We don’t even have a team yet, let alone one to try and win a match with! This isn’t the Underground, those were veteran athletes, Hector. We can’t win this. You f*****g drunkard and your big mouth.”
“Pickle.”
“What?”
“I had three drinks. You’ve seen me down at least ten while making a set of armour. Did you really think I would get drunk and mess this up?”
She wasn’t so sure now. “No… So you just, what? Acted drunk?”
“Pickle… I let him think he had the upper hand. This is a typical g**g-style fight for territory. He wasn’t gonna leave us alo
