Page 124 of Well Played

She shakes her head. That’s it. Doesn’t reveal if she played any other sport. Or if she has a clue what spikeball is.

“It’s like volleyball, only instead of hitting the ball over the net, you’re hitting it down on a round 3ft net that’s a lot like a trampoline. It’s a fun game. I promise.”

“Can I try it before I join the league?”

“Of course.” Non-committal. That’s interesting. “Tonight and for the next few weeks, we’re having pick-up games,” I explain to Summer. “We’ll be playing with different people to see who we mesh with and who might be a good fit for league partners.”

“Okay.” Another one-word answer.

“We’ll play on three nets, as many games as you’re up for as long as you can find someone to play with and against.” She doesn’t do much more than nod as I explain the rules of the game.

Summer’s gray eyes are shifty. They keep darting from me to others in the group and then down to the ground. I can’t tellif she’s insecure because she doesn’t know anyone or if she’s looking to run far away from me.

2

Summer

“What is sohard about hitting the ball on the net?” Lightning zips across the darkening sky like Niko is the King of Weather. Put him in a bad mood, and he’ll serve up a storm. Make him smile, and the sun will shine for days. Only he never smiles. Not for me or at me. “Serving is the one touch you have the most control of.”

Thunder crashes, vibrating in the air around us, causing me to start. I hate loud noises. Thunder, fireworks, cars backfiring. They all frighten me and put me in a bad mood. As if Mr. Perfect over here isn’t already heading me down that path.

“I get that receiving can be tough,” he softens his tone. “Because you can’t always predict where the ball is going, but serving is the one thing you can control. You can practice. And you can do it all by yourself.”

I bite my tongue. I guess he didn’t pick up that my non-answer means I don’t want to answer him, nor do I have any intention of doing so. Instead, I narrow my eyes at Nico, staring him down.

IfIhad a super-power, I’d want to shoot deadly lasers out of my eyes. Not only would there be a lot less people in the world, but if Niko continues to highlight and magnify my every mistake, I’d have the pleasure of singeing him to a pile of ash. And I would love every moment of it.

I imagine the look of surprise on his face and lose myself in the thought. I’d love to watch as a blustering wind gust blows his burnt remains away. Or better yet, toss him in a trash receptacle set aside to collect dog poo.

“Condescending ass,” I mutter under my breath as I turn and take a few steps away.

“What did you just say?”

I freeze at the sound of his voice behind me. I didn’t mean to say that out loud! Now what? Time to flip through my mental rolodex of excuses. I don’t have anything on the tip of my tongue ready to spit out.Think!

Nico’s large hand grabs my shoulder. His fingers don’t grip hard, but I feel the heat of his touch well beneath my skin as he turns me to face him. My heart races, and I think it’s because he doesn’t have to do anything more than look at me or speak to me to intimidate me.

He must see my unease in my eyes because he takes a step back and holds his hands up, showing he meant no harm. Still, I know he’s angry. Judging by his pinched brows and glaring stare, I’d say he’s somewhere between angry and furious.

“Defending pass,” I spit out with venom.Whew!Way to think on my feet. Thank God it’s not unlike me to blurt out completely ridiculous and random things. Although this has enough of a connection to make it seem like an appropriate answer.

“What?”

I act like the meaning is obvious and he’s just not smart enough to pick up on it. “Even when I serve, I’m thinking about defending the pass.”

“Defending?” His tone suggests he isn’t buying my bull. Can’t say I blame him. It’s a long shot, but it’s all I’ve got. “Isthatwhen you focus on your serve?” He says, leaning in, causing my heart to drum harder. “Because I don’t think you’ve earned us a point on your return either.”

I roll my eyes. I hate this guy! I hate his righteous attitude and the fact that he twists my insides in knots.Damn him!

“Maybe if you weren’t such a tight ass, yelling at me all the time, I could breathe and play this stupid game,” I snap.

“I don’t yell at you. I’m coaching you up.”

“I guess you’re as good of a coach as I am a spike ballplayer. This is a game. It’s supposed to be fun. No one’s life hangs in the balance.”

“There’s prize money,” he says, like I’m the stupidest person alive.

“It’s not serious money. If you need it that bad, I’ll give you the five hundred dollars.” He rolls his eyes and one-ups me with a sigh, encouraging me to continue. “I think you want that dumb trophy to massage your ego.”

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