Page 66 of Debugging Love

“No way is that sweatsuit staying on.”

“With Drew anything is possible.”

“Hup!”

We turn our attention to Christopher. He’s got a volleyball in one hand and a net under his arm. “Chance. Drew. Get over here.”

They respond dutifully, and he hands them the net.

“Team-building volleyball game,” Christopher announces.

A chorus of groans arises, including one from my throat.

“I’ll pass, boss,” Violet says as she slathers lotion onto her arm.

“Nobody passes. I already picked teams. You, Kayla, Drew, Chance, Danni, and Tanner on one side. Everyone else on the other.”

“We don’t have to be on literal teams to team build,” Juanita says.

“But when you are it’s so meta, and everybody wins!” Christopher throws up his hands. “Actually, only one team wins. For them it’s a win-win, for the rest of you it’s just good, old-fashioned beach volleyball fun.”

Behind him, Chance and Drew make quick work of the net by plunging the poles into the ground and anchoring them with stakes.

“Hup!”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Violet grumbles.

“It’s what coaches say.” Christopher tosses the ball to Chance.

“Whose team are you on?” Bruce asks.

“I’m the official.”

“That’s not fair,” Morgan whines. She lies back and stretches her arms over her head.

Christopher kicks sand onto her arm. “I’m the boss. I make the rules.”

She glares at him and then sits up, shaking off the sand. “Everybody hurry up so we can get this over with!”

Slowly, we stand and meander over to the volleyball court. I join Chance and Drew and choose a spot in the back. On the other side of the net, Juanita and Violet argue about who should stand where. Christopher finally decides for them, and Bruce pummels the ball over the net with an impressive overhand serve. It arches toward me and lands by my feet.

“Point!” Bruce hollers.

Chance peeks over his shoulder at me. “You’re supposed to hit it back.”

“I wasn’t ready.”

Morgan cups her mouth with her hand and whispers loud enough for Christopher to hear. “If we just stand here, they win and then we can get back to sunbathing.”

“Best out of three,” Christopher says from his neutral spot by the pole.

Our groans rival the sound of the crashing waves. Christopher just smiles.

With our fates sealed, we knuckle down and get serious. Bruce racks up points with his Olympic-style serves. Chance tries to rally us with words of encouragement. The next serve bounces off Drew’s head. Chance slumps. “Can I switch teams?”

“Nope,” Christopher says.

So, Chance starts running after every serve, lobbing it back before anyone else can, which is fine by me.

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