Page 34 of Wicked Serve
September 24th
Sunshine
I saw a bit of your practice today
Omg
Nik!
I was nearly late but I made it, thank god
Stop distracting me in the mornings
You looked good, though
All sweaty
You have such a fetish
No comment
Suuuuuure
Coach would have killed me if you interrupted
I know, don’t worry. No interruptions
I haven’t watched much volleyball
But I could tell you were locked in
Why do I have the feeling this is going to go in a dirty direction
No puns, just an hour to kill before conditioning
Open invitation
Sounds like you’re about to have plenty of physical activity
Nowhere near as fun, though
Second floor classroom, like last time
... I’ll text you when I’m at the building
“Good,” I say, stopping the puck with my stick. “That’s a much better pass.”
Micah, standing on the blue line, smiles at me. “I think switching up the grip helped.”
“Try it again.”
While he sets up, I glance at the bench. Cooper’s in the middle of a conversation with one of the assistant coaches, but he gives me a cordial nod. We ran into each other a couple days ago and started chatting about the freshmen on the team, and I agreed to give Micah, the promising but gangly kid who wishes the Penguins stuck with my dad, some extra help during practices. Part of me bristled at Cooper’s obvious attempt at trying to contain my leadership tendencies while throwing me a bone, but all the same, I don’t mind helping out. Especially with Micah, who is more wide-eyed enthusiastic about playing at the college level than anyone I’ve ever met. I might not be able to do much for that poor freshman Grady, but at least I can help Micah improve.
Ten more minutes, though. Ten minutes, and then I get to catch up with Isabelle. I already saw her this morning, during yet another pool workout that led to a shared, steamy shower, but I’m itching for even more stress relief. If the match wrapping up now went well, we can celebrate, and if not, I’ll console her. Preferably while horizontal, for either.
“Nice.” I stop the next pass. “Feel the power in the rotation?”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Once, twice, a third time. I’d bet my favorite skates that it’s Isabelle; she always has a lot to say.
