Alive.
I tell myself I’m just watching good athletics.
But that’s a lie.
One afternoon in lecture, I’m supposed to be listening to a forty-minute breakdown of supply chain logistics.
Instead, I’ve got one earbud tucked beneath my sleeve.
Volume low.
My phone angled against my laptop.
The Stanford volleyball livestream flickers across the screen.
Stella steps to the baseline.
Her bubble braid swings down her back.
There’s a ribbon tied into it today — navy with a tiny white stripe.
She bounces the ball.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Four.
Five.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Even through the tiny phone speaker, I can hear the crowd building.
She tosses.
Jumps.
The serve is violent.
Ace.
The gym explodes.
My pulse spikes like I’m the one playing.
“Wow.”
Isa’s voice cuts through it.
My head snaps up.
She’s staring at my screen.
Her face is red.
