Page 2 of Spin Serve

“Come on. We’ve got this!” Aspen said, and they did their usual out-of-timeout routine before returning to the court.

They only had one chance at this. If the other team scored, the match was over, and they’d come in second. While this event wasn’t a qualifier for the Olympics, it was still important. The prize money awarded for second place was half of what the winners got, and while the fans in the stands and at home saw those winners holding big checks with a giant number on them, the reality was much different than that.

First, even if the prize money was a million dollars – which, it was far from that – two players on the court had to split that check. That alone would reduce Aspen’s share to five hundred thousand, but they also had coaches, trainers, and nutritionists who all had to get paid. On top of that, the players covered their own travel expenses as well as their coach’s, at minimum, for each event. Beach volleyball was never going to make her rich. Endorsement deals that came with making an Olympic Team could help, but for now, Aspen was lucky she was winning a lot of tournaments – or, at least, coming in second.

At this event, the prize money for the winners was one hundred thousand dollars, which meant that if they lost, they would get fifty grand, giving her twenty-five thousand after the two-player even split. That probably still sounded like a lot for a weekend of work, but after paying her people, covering the expenses, and paying taxes, she’d end the weekend with a few thousand dollars, which would be her full week’s pay. It would also have to sustain her if they lost the next tournament in an earlier round and made nothing. Aspen wasn’t exactly living paycheck to paycheck, but it was close most days. So, they needed this win.

The serve went to DJ, who passed it fine up to Aspen. Her set was a little off, but still okay, and DJ swung. It went to the defender, who passed it to her partner, who set it to her, and the shot went over the net. Aspen dug it out, and DJ went for an on-two play where instead of doing the usual three-hit approach with a bump, set, spike, she hit it over on two because Aspen was still getting out of the sand and couldn’t line up a kill. It went straight to the other team, who eventually went for a massive cut shot, and Aspen was on the line. She couldn’t get to it. They’d lost.

CHAPTER 2

“We’re ready, Kendra,” her producer said.

She heard him as clearly as if he were standing right next to her, and it wasn’t just his voice in her earpiece. She nodded to the cameraman and held her microphone to her mouth.

“April, Terry, how are you feeling right now? You just won the Chicago Open.”

“Uh…” April began when Kendra moved the microphone over toward her. “I didn’t expect this, honestly. We knew we had it in us to win, but Aspen and DJ are great players, and they’ve been on a run recently, so we knew it would be hard. We thought we’d have to gut it out in three sets to walk away with this one, so I think we’re both a little surprised, happy, and looking forward to the next one now.”

“Yeah, what April said,” Terry added when Kendra moved the microphone over to her. “I felt good out there today. We landed some key serves, got the ball to move how we wanted, and I think we’re both just feeling really good right now, heading into the next event.”

“You’ve been moving up in points recently, too. You’re currently in fourth for Olympic qualifying. I know this match won’t get you any points, but how are you feeling heading to the next one that will, knowing you’ll probably be facing the toughest teams in the world?” Kendra moved the microphone back over to April.

“Aspen and DJ are one of those teams, and I think we just showed that while we might not have as many wins as some of those teams trying to qualify, we can still take them and walk away with wins. So, we’re feeling really good about our odds of getting onto a podium and earning some more points, maybe moving up into third and then second after that.”

“Thanks, ladies,” Kendra told them.

“And we’re gone,” her producer said in her ear.

“Thanks, Kendra,” Terry replied as she and April walked off.

“Kendra, can you get Aspen Ashley?” her producer asked.

“Now?”

“Yeah, now. We’ve got some time to kill. Formula One is up next, but there’s a lightning delay. Can you fill a minute for us?”

“Um…” Kendra looked around the court and saw Aspen wrapping her towel the size of a blanket around her waist. “Yeah, I’ve got her. Give me a second.”

She hurried over toward Aspen, who was packing up her things with her partner, DJ, in the players’ area. Aspen Ashley was someone Kendra knew as a sports reporter, but only in that capacity. She’d spoken to Aspen a handful of times outside of the questions she’d asked her as a sideline reporter, but mostly, that was small talk about the weather, Aspen’s favorite flavor of Gatorade, which was the blue kind that Kendra couldn’t ever remember the name of, or where Aspen was playing next. That was about it. And she’d always gotten a good vibe from the woman, but, for some reason, out of all the athletes Kendra had interviewed over the years – and she’d been doing this job in one way or another since college, interviewing NBA players, NFL players, MLB players, NHL players, MLS players, WNBA players, NWSL players, AAWVL, and USPBV players – Aspen Ashley was the one who made her nervous. Kendra was sure there were more letters in there, representing the leagues and people she’d talked to over the years, and she’d spoken to coaches, trainers, and future hall-of-famers in their respective sports, but it was Aspen Ashley who had her stumbling most often.

“Aspen, can I have a minute?” she asked.

Aspen looked up from where she had been putting something in her bag, and those hypnotic hazel eyes landed on Kendra’s blue ones.

“Us? We lost,” Aspen replied.

“Just you. And, yeah.”

“Cool. Can I go?” DJ asked.

“Sure. Hey, DJ.”

“Hey, Kendra,” DJ said and picked up her bag. “I’ll see you in the tent,” she added to Aspen.

“Um… Okay.” Aspen walked over to Kendra and stood next to her in her usual interview-ready stance, with her legs spread shoulder-width apart and her hands behind her back, held together.

Kendra looked at her cameraman and held the microphone to her mouth, waiting for the cue from her producer. When she got it, she gave a nod.

---