NOVEL NEXT Chapter 21: The Sidekick and the Volleyball Game (Part 2)
The whistle blew for what felt like the thousandth time in the hour we’d been here. Did everything in volleyball require a whistle? Foul? Blow the whistle. Off-sides? Blow the whistle. The play ended? You guessed it, blow the damn whistle. It was nearly enough to make me lose the last of my sanity.
And there wasn’t much of that left to begin with.
I may have been biased because sports didn’t interest me much, but at this point, I would’ve preferred to serve another detention. At least there, it was quiet and I could get my homework done. Here I was stuck in the bleachers watching a ball be hit back and forth over the net. Only for someone on the opposing team to touch the net on a spike attempt, prompting the referee to take a deep breath, then release it into the whistle tied around his neck.
Quietly groaning, I earned myself yet another pat on the shoulder from Ethan. I slapped his hand away while he tried to placate me. “It’s not that bad. And there’s only one more team to go after this.”
Seriously, if I had a nickel for every time he said that. Well, I’d only have twenty cents, but it was annoying that it kept happening. I turned back around, muttering an apology to Rika when I bumped her with my elbow. She retaliated in return, prompting Chloe to shake her head at her friend. “Knock it off, Rika.”
She pouted at being scolded but allowed me to return to watching the game in peace. Relative peace, I supposed, glaring at the ref. He paid me no mind, intrigued by the ongoing volley before him. I followed his cue, less than enthralled with the ongoing display.
The only thing I enjoyed so far about these two matches was watching Nora. And not because I was there to support her, though, I did my best to cheer loudly whenever she did well. It was her height, or lack thereof, which interested me. It may have been a little mean, I couldn’t help but be amused anytime she played toward the front of the net like she currently was. Dwarfed on either side by her teammates, who may have as well have been giants compared to her, she went for a block but her fingertips barely reached over the top of the net. The blonde to her left managed to block it in her stead instead. Perhaps the other team had not expected this development because their return was rather lackluster. Such a weak lob allowed for the blonde in our back row to perfectly pass the ball to the setter.
“Mine!” Nora called out, placing her hands above her head and waiting for the ball to fall onto her fingertips. When it did, she pushed it up into the air between the two girls in front. Whether or not that was an intentional ploy to confuse the opponents was anybody’s guess, but Nora knew exactly what she wanted.
“Kara!” she shouted.
The aforementioned girl leaped forward and spiked the ball at full force. It careened toward the ground, faster than anyone on the other side could react to return it. With a dull thud, it struck the floor, only stopping once it rolled into the shoe of a player. The winning play drew to a close with a splitting shriek of the whistle, the only time I could tolerate the thing.
For a moment it was silent until our bleachers erupted into cheers. Clapping and shouts drowned out the referee proclaiming the game over as the scoreboard displayed a final score: 25-21. Standing along with the rest of my friends, I managed to meet Nora’s eyes. She sent me a cocky smirk and held up her pointer finger, proclaiming herself number one. I could only chuckle and give her a thumbs-up. Likely, I was inflating her already big ego, but she had played well and deserved praise. Hopefully, it didn’t make her head any bigger since there was another game left yet.
The teams lined up across from each other and exchanged post-game pleasantries. Once that was over, the losers shuffled out into the hallway while the victors remained on the court. The last player on the opposing team disappeared from view, and Nora’s coach cut their moment of glory short. At her command, the girls warming the bench went to the other side and began to help the starters warm up. A good idea because it would be a while until the other teams finished their matches and made their way from the auxiliary gym to the main gym where we were.
Now that our section had quieted down, other than the occasional shout, the muffled chants, cries, and hits of the volleyball could be heard from the other side of the gym. The main gym had been split into halves, partitioned off by the collapsable wall that had been locked into place earlier in the day. It allowed for all six seeded teams to compete at our school in a timely and orderly manner. I was all for this method, as the sooner everything concluded, the faster I could go home. Even I could admit though how excited I was for them to have made it to the finals.
The girls were transitioning into practicing serving when the last team made their presence known. They came in a mix of players and audience members holding large cardboard signs and conversing exuberantly. Their relaxed blue uniforms provided a stark contrast to our distinct gold ones, yet those girls looked anything but relaxed. The way they carried themselves and held their heads high sent a clear message.
They weren’t a team to be trifled with.
Having settled in, the audience wasted no time engaging in raucous cheers of encouragement. Not one to be outdone, Rika also wasted little time in riling our side up as well. And thus, a battle of noisy attrition between the two bleachers began. A few girls from both teams flushed, embarrassed by their supportive friends or relatives. Shaking my head at the same time the captains shook hands, I couldn’t help but stare at the other team’s captain. She was tall and tanned, a small smile playing on her lips, but there was something familiar about her I couldn’t quite place. She didn’t look like anyone I knew, but this feeling refused to dissipate. My gaze fell onto her shoulder where a prominent birthmark resided. A spark of recognition flickered in me. Katy? It was undoubtedly her. Even if she had shot up considerably and gotten tan over the summer, the birthmark proved who she was. But why would she be here?
The scoreboard flashed the answer. It was Lakewood Academy versus Asheville High School.
My heart dropped in my chest, and I had to ignore the urge to run out of the gym. My eyes furiously scanned the other people in attendance, both the players and the crowd in the bleachers. Not recognizing any other familiar faces, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding in. In that case, all I had to do was avoid having Katy notice me. Shouldn’t be too hard considering we had no reason to interact. Then I could run home, her being none the wiser.
Ethan laid his hand on my shoulder, and I jerked away. “You ok, man?”
“Yeah, s-sorry.” I stuttered. “What’s up?”
“I was just going to say how strange it is to see people from our old school again.”
“Real weird.”
“You sure you’re alright?” he asked, brow furrowed. “Did somebody say something to you?”
“No, Katy’s here, but I was more worried th–”
“I’m sure he’s fine, Ethan. He’s always been a bit of a spazz~”
My blood ran cold the moment those sickly, sweet words tumbled out of her mouth. I was almost convinced this was a cruel joke, but the pain of my fingernails digging into the flesh of my palm assured me it wasn’t. The absolute last person I had wanted to see was standing a mere two rows away from me. Near enough that her overbearing perfume clogged my nostrils, but I refused to acknowledge her. I refused to give her the satisfaction.
Ethan twisted around to face her, barely restrained anger behind his frown. “Sara, it’s been a long time. We should’ve kept it that way.”
Leaning in toward him, the girl played with the collar of her shirt so it dipped lower. “Is that so? I always thought we should get to know each other better.”
My treacherous eyes were drawn to her chest for a split second, roaming over the partially exposed mounds before snapping away. It didn’t stop her from noticing. Our eyes locked, and she stared at me like a predator spotting wounded prey. Dropping her shoulder, her shirt fell to the point where her lacy black bra came into view. I forced my gaze away, disgusted by myself and her.
She adjusted her plunging neckline when a few adults began muttering their concerns about decency and children. Through it all, though, the girl in question wasn’t deterred in the slightest, her satisfied smirk growing in size. “You haven’t changed much. You might’ve gotten even creepier if that’s possible.” Giggles spilled forth from her open mouth when she noticed Rika for the first time. “And you even tricked another girl into hanging out with you? And how original, black hair and blue eyes like me. You certainly have yourself a type.”
Rika pressed against my side, glaring at the other girl. “Jealous?”
“Oh, don’t tell me.” Sara studied her a moment longer, then burst into laughter. “You like him, don’t you? Holy shit! That’s hilarious! My trash ended up being someone else’s treasure.”
Ethan let out a growl. “Enough! Just leave, Sara.”
“Alright, alright. No need for hostility. I can tell when I’m not wanted.” Spinning around and giving him a wink, she continued. “We should get together some time, Ethan. You have my number.”
“Like I still have that shit.”
The audience breathed a collective sigh of relief when she reached the bottom step and headed over to the bleachers opposite ours. The few who had started towards us went back to their seats, glad the problem had sorted itself out. Their attention departed from us and returned to the game. Most of them had already written it off as a lover’s spat or typical teenage drama. To me, however, it was unfortunately a little more personal.
“Hey, are you–”
“Bathroom,” I interrupted him, wanting to leave before any type of interrogation.
Pushing past Rika and Chloe, they said something to me in passing, but I couldn’t be bothered to ask them to repeat. Sprinting past the set of doors at the gym’s entrance and ending up in the bathroom was as good a place as any. My pale face stared at me from the mirror, my bottom lip trembling. I splashed some cold water on my face, hoping to liven up my complexion. My cheeks were a little rosier, I kept splashing water to wash away the memories. That was less effective, so I stood over the sink, water dripping down my face, dragged back into last school year.
