Sweat drips down my brow, sand grating on my skin when I wipe it with one hand, my eyes following the ball. I manage to right Micah’s cap before Olli dives to catch the counterattack.
The sand is like tar as I move to set. I have only a second to take in our opponents. They’re drawing back, expecting another long pass.
“Fast!” I call out to Olli, who yells out as the ball makes contact with my fingertips. He wanted to look good, and he sure does, as he takes a running start, then leaps—and spikes the ball barely a meter behind the net.
Cheers erupt around us. It’s the unspoken match ball, even if no one kept score. Olli hugs me to his side, grinning broadly as we go to shake hands with our opponents.
But they don't meet us at the net.
“Come on, no hard feelings, just take the L.” Sand clings to Olli’s bare chest, but he doesn't seem bothered by it, shrugging casually before placing his hands on his hips. “Or are you too much of a limp-dick?”
“Olli,” I warn, taking a few steps back from the net.
“What did you just say, you fuckin—”
A sharp whistle cuts the tirade short before it can really wind up.
“Are we going to have a problem here?” Davenport is crossing the sand. It feels like storm clouds pushing in front of the sun. Micah follows closely behind, their combined determination making Davenport’s frat bros shrink back, all bark, no bite.
“No. No problem,” one grumbles out, nudging the other. Together, they hurry off the field.
“Aw, our big, strong hero stepping in,” Olli teases Davenport easily. For a moment, I worry he’ll call the two guys back and let them give Olli a bloody nose after all.
But instead, he huffs and trudges off the field.
I breathe out in relief, offering a quiet “Thank you,” as I follow at a safe distance.
“Yes, Davenport, how can we ever repay you?” Olli happily continues teasing, so I slow down my steps even further. I don'twant to be there when the quarterback’s patience for Olli's antics runs out.
A strong arm drapes across my shoulders, pulling me to a complete stop.
“That was awesome!” Micah whispers into my ear.
I snort, turning to look at him. “You haven’t seen many volleyball matches, hm?”
“No.” He laughs, unperturbed. “But I doubt they’d look as good as this one.”
Heat crawls up my neck from where Micah’s arm is still slung around me. We both look off to the side, almost at the same time, but neither Davenport nor Olli, or anyone around, takes any notice of us. A new match has started, drawing most of the attention.
I break the spell by taking off Micah’s cap. It’s sandy and sweaty, but I place it on his head like a crown.
“I charged it up with wins for you.” I grin, then duck out from under his arm to splash into Lake Champlain. The water is warmer than expected, gentle waves lapping at my calves as I wade farther in. Micah follows along, though he slows down to splash his arms, then his chest, and then, with a mischievous grin, me.
“Hey!” he calls out when I dive into the water.
For a few strokes, I let the smooth and cold wet glide over me, shaking out my hair when I surface a few feet away. “What? Afraid to get wet?”
Micah catches up easily. We get lost in splashing and dunking each other until we’re thoroughly soaked and sand-free.
“But seriously, that was pretty cool,” Micah reiterates as we’re walking back to shore.
“It’s fun too. I like it.” I smile genuinely. Many people enjoy the physicality of sports like football or hockey, but that’s neverbeen for me. My opponents can stay on the other side of the net, thank you very much.
“I’m also wondering…why do you always wear such huge clothes?” Only when he brings it up do I notice how my wet shirt clings around my shoulders and chest. I pluck it away from my skin, though I enjoy that it keeps me cool. Micah watches me closely, his head tipped to the side curiously.
I shrug, buying time. “Habit, maybe? When I was younger, I usually got some kind of hand-me-downs from my dad or sisters, so there was always something to grow into, and now it’s just my style,” I mutter. “And, well…I mean, living in a house with all of you?Verybad for anyone’s ego, let me tell you.” Not that I feel unwell in my body, but I’m not ripped like Micah. Farm work builds lean muscles, but that barely catches anyone's attention.
“As far as I can see, you have nothing to be concerned about.” Thankfully, Micah has picked up that I'm kidding, nudging his shoulder against mine. “And let me tell you, it’s all Sasha! If you think living with her is bad, try going to the gym with that maniac.” His conspiratorial tone makes me snicker.
