Page 71 of The Fake
She snorts. “Yeah, okay.”
We fall silent again, and she nudges me with her elbow. “I’m sorry I’ve been a royal bitch to you but, Chloe?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m still gonna kick your ass in the sand.”
* * *
The next morning, I wake up in Bri’s bed. My phone is dead, but even without knowing the time I have a feeling I’ve overslept. When I sit up, nausea hits me. I’m hungover and hungry and my stomach is confused because it wants to eat but also acknowledges I may very well puke if I do.
Sydney is gone from our room, so I gingerly sit on my bed in the dark and plug in my phone and wait for it to get enough of a charge to turn on.
When the screen finally illuminates a series of texts pops up.
Nathan: Lying in bed. What are you doing? You know it’s 2:13, right?
Nathan: Everything okay?
And thirty minutes later.
Nathan: Be careful, princess.
I send him a text before I force myself to get up and get my shower stuff together. I need to wash off last night and nap before practice.
Me: I don’t think I’m going to make it to class today. Can you take notes for me? Pretty please with a blow job on top?
Nathan: Morning. Rough night? Sure. No need to bribe me with sex, princess.
Nathan: Ignore that. You can absolutely bribe me with sex.
Me: Hang tonight?
Nathan: Can’t. I promised Datson I’d help him with some footwork drills. Tomorrow?
Me: I don’t think I’ll be done ‘til late on Thursday. We have a tournament this weekend.
Nathan: Tournament where? Valley?
Me: Yes, it’s here.
Nathan: Sweet. Can you get me front row tickets?
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling.
Me: Smartass, it’s general admission.
* * *
The rest of the week is busy. Classes are starting to get more intense, so keeping up with homework and assigned reading on top of the long practices and extra workouts is a bit grueling. I see Nathan in class, but we both have to blow off our project.
The tournament is a small fall exhibition with only a few other schools. Even so, I’m so nervous I can’t eat breakfast.
Coach pairs me with Emily and moves Bri with Sydney. It’s a switch from last year and from how we’ve been practicing. Emily and Bri have been partners most of their collegiate careers. I expect all the progress we’ve made being civilized to one another to come to a screeching halt, but Bri just nods and goes about her warmups.
I think she feels a little victorious when Coach dubs them the number one pairing. During the fall season, it doesn’t mean much. I know that and she knows that, but if it keeps the truce going, she can keep it… for now, anyway.
We warm up as a team first. Coach calls out the exercises from the sideline. Side lunges, shuffles, crossover, lateral bear crawl. Then we do ball drills—serving, passing, and hitting.
