The Silicon Valley Connection

36 | aidan: print ('good luck charm')

2:57 p.m.

Just before I line up with my teammates, I jog over to Faith in the second row with her friends.

"Oi Faith. Gimme your scrunchie," I say, gesturing to the baby blue hair tie that's around her right wrist. I pause. "Please."

She turns to me, suspicious. "Huh? Why?"

"I don't know. Good luck, maybe."

Nichelle chimes in. "Yeah, looks like you guys are going to need it." I ignore her sharp jab and turn back to Faith.

"Or maybe since you have something that makes me feel comfortable and secure," I pointed to my customized team hoodie, "I thought that I should return the favor," I say, gesturing to her hair tie.

I lower my voice and whisper in her ear, "Besides, you look beautiful either way and wearing your hair down honestly makes you happier, don't even try to deny it."

Her lips form a tight line. "Oh, whatever. Here."

I give her a quick cheek kiss, and she hands me her hair tie.

My hair grew out quite a bit between winter break and now. Between practice, clubs, and schoolwork, I kind of gave up trying to make an appointment for a haircut. I pull all the strands I can back into a feeble ponytail, although it's looking more like a small man bun. I need to make an appointment after this game. I'm not really feeling the look.

I turned to her one last time. "Cheer us on, yeah?"

"Of course," she says with an ever-present radiant smile and gives me a thumbs up.

faith

Smack dab in the middle of Baylor and Ollie in the front row, Aidan's white, black, and pale-yellow jersey with the number five isn't that difficult to spot. Just shy of six feet tall, the middle blocker position is quite fitting for him, and this prolonged rally during the final fifth set where the target is only fifteen points has both the players and us, spectators, on edge.

With both teams claiming two wins each from the four sets before, the victorious team of this last one punches a ticket to Nationals here in San Francisco, where the top teams in both the west and the east play against each other to claim the coveted championship title.

I glance at the scoreboard. Eagles: 11, Owls: 9. The roar of the crowd rivals the thundering heartbeat in my ears; Nichelle's grip on my forearm tightens, and her breath hitches when Riley dives for the ball that drops just after the attack line.

Just when I thought it would be yet another point for Bayfield because of the low receive, Jaeson's dirty blond hair swishes in slow motion as the movement throughout the gym slows to a standstill around me. He takes the perfect first step behind him to the left and lunges to set the ball. All is still as Aidan waits for just a fraction of a second above the net before the attack; the yellow and blue ball hits against the palm of one of the three opposing blockers before slamming out of bounds.

A slight breeze whips past my hair, and the pace returns to normal as if the entire crowd released a collective breath. I dodge out of the way, pushing Nichelle in the process. A disgruntled huff coming from Soledad sounds from behind me as she tosses the ball back to one of the sports assistants stationed along the perimeter of the court. Nichelle leans back and repositions herself back comfortably between Sol's legs, and for a minute, I wish Aidan wasn't a regular in this game.

"There it is everyone! The classic wipe from Seaside's #5!" the announcer booms into his headset microphone. The audience goes wild, myself included. It may not have been the point to tie the set, but after a grueling rally back and forth, gaining that point was the morale booster the team needed. The Eagles are favored to win it all, and we had incredible luck in being paired with them this season. Our school's unofficial official cheer section bellows their excitement five rows above us.

Eagles: 11, Owls: 10. We may have a chance with this.

One timeout and two rotations later, Aidan is up to serve, which I feel bad for the opposing team. With the perfect balance of precision, power, and accuracy, his serves would most definitely turn the game's tide.

One...two...three...four bounces of the ball. He's planning on doing a spike serve. The stunned faces from the other side of the net mirror everyone in the stands. But his teammates greet him with slaps on the back and high fives.

"What an ace by #5! The score is now 11-11 even. Can he do it again for the Owls to take the lead?" the commentator exclaims from the sidelines.

aidan

Four more measly points are all we need, and the team will be going to Nationals for the third consecutive season.

One...two...three...four...five...six bounces of the ball. Let's try a jump float serve. The first official blows her whistle, giving me the okay to proceed. The ball just barely makes it over the net and hits the ground with a soft thud. A let serve. Tch. Baylor's never gonna let me live that down.

Eagles: 11, Owls: 12.

I send another spike serve over the net with ease, and the opposing team digs it. Damn it. Following the ball's path with my eyes, a player sets it to an opposite hitter, but the spike seems to lose momentum at the net, suspended slowly in midair. Ryland jumps for a stuff block; the other middle blocker meets him simultaneously, resulting in a joust. Finally, after two painstakingly long seconds, it successfully falls into the opposing team's court.

Eagles: 11, Owls: 13. Two more points. Right at the whistle, a float serve results in an ace for us.

Eagles: 11, Owls: 14.

Cheers and stomps against the bleachers ring in my ears, and I close my eyes. Breathe. In. Out. The official's whistle sounds; I send a spike serve over the net. The Eagles' libero digs it, keeping it in play. Shuffling near the front, the last opposing player hits a powerful spike, and the ball darts toward Jaeson. It's kind of messy but still at a decent enough height.

Time to finish this. "Got it!"

Eagles: 11, Owls: 15.

Hoots and hollers surround me as my teammates tackle me in excitement when the official gestures to our side of the net, acknowledging that the point was good.

Nationals, here we come.