Page 88 of Wicked Serve

I laugh slightly. “I’m not a wedding planner.”

“When I spoke to Katherine, she agreed to help, but she wanted you to lead it.”

“She didn’t mention... Really?”

“Really.” Bex touches my shoulder comfortingly. “You’re still thinking about doing this for a career, right?”

For the first time since the hospital, I feel a hint of excitement. Volleyball is fraught right now, even if doing spring league would mean more time with Victoria and the rest of our friends. But planning Bex and James’s wedding, with some help from Katherine? It would be like last summer again. Maybe even a real stepping-stone to a future career. I haven’t stopped thinking about the wedding that Nik and I crashed in Boston.

The warmth fades as something occurs to me. “Are you just asking because of what happened?”

“Of course not. I asked you because you’re talented and passionate. The fact you’re my future sister-in-law is the cherry on top.”

“Aren’t you legally married already?”

Her eyes sparkle. “You and I both know it won’t count for real until I walk down the aisle.”

I rock on my heels, my mind already full of color schemes and fabrics and venue options. “I... I need to talk to my parents.”

Chapter 43

Izzy

Dad sends the volleyball over the net in a neat, if unpracticed, arc. I set, then spike it myself, the same routine we’ve been doing for the past hour. Instead of hitting it back, however, he catches it, giving me a pleased smile.

“You’ve definitely improved.”

I run my fingers through my ponytail. “I practiced a lot last season.”

The unspoken part of my sentence hangs in the air uncomfortably. I stare at the floor of our home gym, blinking hard. I’ve loved every second of the past hour, but whenever I think about spring league or next season, I’m filled with dread. At least the thought of planning James and Bex’s wedding gives me the good kind of nerves. If I say yes.

“Isabelle,” he says, coming around the net. “You’re upset, darling.”

I startle at the use of my full name, wiping away a trickle of sweat from my brow. I sit on the built-in bench along the wall, sipping from my water bottle.

“Aren’t you?”

He tosses the volleyball aside and joins me on the bench, stretching out his legs. The left one has a scar down the knee; an old football injury that required surgery.

“Yes,” he says, after a moment. “Of course I’m upset. But not about what happened.”

“I promised you I’d play setter again, and now that’s not happening.” I have to whisper it. I thought I could take this conversation, but two seconds in, I’m already faltering.

“And I don’t care about that.”

Tears prick my eyes. “How could you not?”

He sighs, rubbing his scarred knee. “Well, I’m relieved you didn’t hurt yourself too badly, for one thing. And I don’t agree with the way your coach has handled things, even if it’s her team to run how she sees fit.”

“You wanted me back at setter.” Nik’s words echo in my mind before I can banish them. Even though I tried for myself, I can’t deny that I tried for my father’s approval, too. My whole family’s approval. I wanted to be worthy of the Callahan name, the way my brothers are.

“I knew what that position meant to you, so yes, I wanted you to try to win it back.”

“And I failed you.”

He blinks, quiet for a moment. “Is that what you really think?”

I worry my lip between my teeth as I stand, needing distance. Even though the gym has high ceilings and plenty of space, it feels tiny, a box without an escape. I turn my head, refusing to look at my father.

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