“Calder is into them. That has to be your first move?—”
“You’reinto them, and I don’t have the thighs for that. We’ve discussed this,” she snaps back, and their conversation devolves from there.
Sam and I exchange delighted smiles and try to focus on the game. As the play heats up, the chatter is replaced by reactions to the shots. It gives me a second to sip my drink and watch.
Calder is different when he plays. Not that I have much to compare against, but just with the three other people on the court, he looks smooth. Seamless. He’s playing with a woman in a neon visor, Kari, according to Natasha’s running commentary,who prowls at the net and loves to hit hard. Watching her gets my blood pumping.
That’s the kind of player I want to be. Aggressive. Not afraid to go for the ball.
After three points in a row, I notice a pattern. Calder sets up points like puzzles. He serves it deep, then hits the return ball at the feet of whichever player is farther back in the court. He and Kari adjust position depending on who the ball goes to. It’s like they’re tag teaming, and it’s super effective until the guy on the other team flips a perfect lob over both of them. Calder has to run back to hit it. He returns it over the net, but the other woman slams it at Kari’s feet.
Calder taps paddles with his partner, gets back in position, and then stills.
“Kari coaches Saturdays,” Natasha says. “Really nice person. Never want to play her, though.”
Ben adds, “She body bags like nobody’s business.”
I glance at Sam, and she shrugs. At least I’m not the only one who has no clue what that means.
We fall into cheering with the others. Giving teasing groans when someone flubs, appreciative “oohs” when Calder threads one down the line. Between points, the group adopts us wholesale. Sam tells them we work in printing and design, which immediately sparks a debate over cardstock vs. linen. A woman behind Natasha is printing graduation announcements, and somehow that leads to my confession that I once cried over a deckle edge.
By the time the game hits 8–8, I know Natasha’s kid is named Junie, Ben hates pickles, platinum bob’s name is Myra and she runs HR at a tech startup, and Nuggets Tee is actually named Marco and prefers filing his taxes in February so he can bring it up as much as possible in March when everyone’s stressed.
I’ve never felt so at home somewhere I’ve only been twice.
“Side out!” someone yells, as Calder’s team takes the serve.
He and Kari creep up from the baseline with smart drops. The rally has me on the edge of my seat, especially when Kari smashes it only to have it come straight back. Damn, these people are good.
Kari gets a dink that hits the net cord and drops into the kitchen, and the other team can’t get it in time. 10–8. Game point.
The other team buys one more chance to serve, but Calder and Kari hold them. They take eleven with an ace serve by Calder.
“They got third!” Ben says to Junie, brushing his nose against hers.
Oh. This was an actual tournament. “How often do they do these?”
Natasha shrugs. “Usually something competitive every week. These are just our in-house tournaments. We only have the big hosted ones every few months or so.”
Calder, Kari, and the other team all tap paddles over the net. Calder says something that makes the other guy laugh, and when they walk off the court, everyone is all smiles.
“Alright, time to get this little one to bed.” Natasha takes Junie from Ben. “Gah, I’m sore.”
Ben laughs. “Weird. You only played for five hours today.”
“Five hours?” My jaw drops.
Natasha laughs. “Someone needed a sub in Net Queen tonight. We never have enough women—ooh! You two should come sometime!”
I draw in a breath. “Is that—are we allowed to come?”
Marco slings his bag over his shoulder. “Are you members here?”
Sam and I shake our heads.
He waves it off. “No worries, just talk to the front desk to add you for the day. I think it’s a fifteen-dollar drop-in fee or something.”
“But you should obviously buy a membership so we can play together.” Natasha winks. “We have events almost every weekend, singles meet-ups.” She waggles her eyebrows. “Not that I think you’re single, I’m just saying you’d both do well there.”
