Page 55 of Beach B!tch
Autumn and I had on our matching black bikini bottoms and purple tops. Hair braided back into a ponytail and then into another braid down our backs. Sunblock rubbed in, sunglasses in place. Game face officially on.
The whistle blew and the game started. We had the first serve. Autumn nailed her first three serves, earning us our first two points, until they got us on a clean spike that went long. We were diving left and right, jumping and spiking with all we had.
Ab muscles rotating the torso, the powerful swing of an arm slicing through the air and hammering a spike, thigh muscles rippling as our bodies jumped high in the air for a jump serve, arms reaching for the ball in a dive attempt. Sand covering every square inch of our skin.
I'd never felt more alive.
The first game ended with a 21-19 finish, with Autumn and I taking the lead. It was a little closer than I wanted. We had to be sure to keep our momentum up during the break.
Next game began and we found ourselves down 3-1. We were making stupid mistakes. Second guessing our plays. I could feel the momentum shifting and I didn't like it. I called a time-out and huddled up with Autumn while we drank water and toweled off. The heat was increasing as the fog bank cleared out.
"We're taking this way too seriously, Autumn. We're freezing up out there, when really...it's just you and me. Doing our thing. Having fun. You want to have some fun with me, girl?" I was in Autumn's space, gripping her arms, making sure she was with me.
"Hell yeah, I do! Let's go shake some shit up, girlie. Let's rip it!" Autumn fist pumped me and we ran back out to the court, a new lighthearted determination permeating our every move.
We got the serve back and focused in on our plays, covering each other like we'd been partners for years. We flowed around each other perfectly, moving seamlessly across the court. Autumn set me up for a big spike, yelling "Line, line!" I hit the ball with everything I had, the ball drilling down right along the court line. Our opponents didn't have a hope in hell of digging it out. Adrenaline pumping, I spun around, fist raised in the air in celebration. I looked over to Dean and pointed at him, so he knew that particular kill was just for him. His proud smile lit me up even more.
Next play had the ref blowing his whistle saying that my block was dirty. In all honesty, my opponent and I had both touched the net when we went up, but for whatever reason, they only called it on me.
I immediately ran over to the ref and asked him what the hell happened. Sometimes you had to argue for your side, or they'd keep calling things against you. Ain't no pushover here.
"You hit the net, plain and simple," the ref barked back.
"We BOTH hit the net, plain and simple," I said, still not backing down.
He gave me a warning look in response.
"So you're telling me you hold us to a higher standard than them?" I pointed to our opponents.
"That's not what I--"
"Hey, no way, I dig it!" I called over my shoulder as I jogged back to the court, a new fire burning in my belly. Want us to play to a higher standard? No problem. We'll bring the class and win this bitch too.
Autumn high-fived me. "What was that about?"
I looked her right in the eye and spelled it out. "When you get aggressive, good things happen. Let's get aggressive."
She paused for a moment, then a big smile took over her face and I could tell by the gleam in her eye she was on the same page as me. We would go out fighting today, win or no win.
We dove, bumped, blocked, and spiked our way to game point, 20-18. It was my serve. The moment I'd fought for my whole life. One point away. One serve to get everything I wanted.
I looked over at the sea of purple shirts off to the side of the court. As cliche as it sounds, time slowed down as I took in all their precious faces. I was doing what I loved with people I loved surrounding me.
And then it hit me: I already had it all.
I had everything I wanted. I didn't need to win my Pro title or ever win another volleyball game in my life. I was worthy, I was deserving, just as I was.
The last bit of weight on my shoulders slipped off, leaving me light and free.
Now I wanted to win for the fun of the game. Dean lifted his arm up, his pinky extended out. I lifted my arm as well, pinky lining up with his, still thirty feet away but right beside me just the same.
I heard the ref blow the whistle, and I turned my focus back to the court, blocking out everything but me and the ball. Time to break out the fun.
I threw the ball in the air as I took some hip-swinging-salsa-dancing-Latin-lover steps, then I cocked my arm back, jumped, and unleashed everything I had on that ball. The serve skimmed the net, landing uncontested in the sand just an inch inside the court line.
Ace serve for the win.
I dropped to my knees in the sand, my head lowered, eyes shut, overcome with emotion. I did it.
