Page 38 of Strong Side

Clay mumbles under his breath, “Why am I kind of scared?”

“You honestly should be,” I answer him truthfully.

“BALL!” my dad yells out, tossing the volleyball to Lil, who in turn, passes him the perfect ball. He sets her up beautifully, and she approaches, attacking the ball. It’s heading for Clay, but it’s shorter than he expected. Normally, shorter people can’t jump high enough to get on top of the ball, even more so in sand, forcing their hits to go long. I know that’s what he was thinking as he readied himself further back because I would’ve done the same if I didn’t know how good my sister was.

Lil has fucking hops, though.

Clay’s diving into the sand, reaching out for the ball, but comes up a couple of inches short. It hits the ground right in front of his hands, throwing sand up in his face.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Lil says while turning around to get back, ready to hit again.

They go through the same routine, but this time she’s gunning for me. I’m ready, though, digging the ball up perfectly, right into Clay’s waiting hands. He sets me up beautifully. I make my approach, but my dad is there, ready to block as I hit into his hands with all my might,but there’s no going around him. The old man stuffs me, causing the ball to ricochet so hard off his hands that Clay is able to pass it back up to me. I send it up in a set, and Clay’s approaching it at full speed. Lil tries to block him, but he’s got too much height on her and pure fucking power behind him. He slams the ball down the line, and all I hear is slow clapping from my dad.

“Boy, you’re fucking good! And you two together…” he says, on a huff. “Untouchable. You each pick up each other’s weak spots and build off of them.” He’s looking at us in amazement, and honestly, I don’t know why… That wasn’t all that crazy of a play, but what he said rings true. We have each other’s backs and always know what the other is going to do before we do it, and it’s never been this easy with any other partner I’ve had.

And what do we do?

Start fucking around with each other like a bunch of dumbasses, risking the championship and the sure track to the Olympics were riding on.

But it’s worth it, and if it does work out, we’re going to be unstoppable. I can hear the announcers now:“Clay and Rocky, the power partners on the sand, and the power couple off.”

Speaking of being a couple, he hasn’t called me Baby at all since that one slip-up at the last game, and that’sway too long for my liking. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss something so small until I didn’t have it anymore.

Clay’s voice pulls me out of my spiral. “You’re not so bad yourself, Joe. Did you play?”

“Nope, I just picked up what I could from these two troublemakers—enough to be able to keep up with them and train the best I could with what we had.” I really do try not to take for granted what I grew up with and what my parents selflessly offered up. It may not have been money, but my dad willingly learned a new sport—as an adult—regardless of how hard that is… But he did it, and he did it perfectly.

We keep running through drills and talking all kinds of smack, but the same thought won’t quiet down in my head…

Why has Clay suddenly stopped calling me Baby? The more I think about it, the more I realize he must be doing it on purpose, and I’m about to be fed the fuck up.

1. Work Out - J. Cole

24

Say. My. Name.

Clayton

It’s our last night in California before we have to go back to Florida, and we’re spending the evening hunkered down at the Campos’s kitchen table playing the most intense game of Clue I’ve ever seen. It’s not exactly the typical way I’d spend spring break, but I’m absolutely loving every single second of it.

The way Joe says something smart to Cassandra every time she guesses a clue and makes a mark on her sheet of paper. The way she pinches him in the side every time he makes said smart comment just for him to wink back at her. The way Rocky and Lil quite literally have not stopped arguing since we started this damn game.And the way Rocky looks my way every so often, softly smiling at me as he catches me softly smiling at all of them. But most of all, the way he occasionally squeezes my thigh under the table, silently asking if I’m overwhelmed.

I love it all.

Rocky rolls and his character enters the billiard room on the game board. After he thinks for a few moments, he looks at his sister, who is directly to his left, and asks, “Was it Miss Scarlet, in the billiard room, with the wrench?”

Liliana sighs dramatically as she shows him a card in her hand, and I hear her mutter something about hitting Rocky with a wrench under her breath as Rocky makes another mark on his paper, grinning confidently.

Reaching to my left, I rub my hand along his spine. “Good job, B-buddy.” Just like I’ve tried to do since we arrived a week ago, I stop myself from using the nickname that so easily falls from my lips. But this time I almost let it slide, and judging by the way his smile immediately falls, Rocky noticed.

Curling her lips in, clearly trying not to burst out laughing, Lil claps Rocky on the back and mocks, “Yeah, good job, b-b-buddy.”

“Eu vou matar você,” he snarlsat his sister.

As the game continues, every time I say something to Rocky, he grows more and more tense. On his last turn, he hardly even tries to make the correct guesses. I already know what he has marked off on his sheet because I’ve been sneaking peeks at it the entire time. And when Liliana finally guesses correctly, the game ends, and Rocky abruptly stands from his seat.??1 Grabbing me by the wrist he pulls me from mine and drags me behind him into the hallway leading toward the bedrooms.

Pulling me into the bathroom, he slams the door closed and pins me against it. With his hands on the door on either side of my head, caging me in, he bites out, “Say it.”

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