Too High For The Net

1| Collision

Seasons like this are amazing. They really boost your excitement and enthusiasm for sports, even if you're athletically challenged like me. Here I am sitting with my friends watching our high school boys volleyball team win another point leading to another victory. I clap my hands and join the crowd in chanting a cheer in support.

BUM, BUM, BA-DUM!

A junior varsity player—who was also a band kid—smacks the drum that belongs to my friend, Ophelia Bartlett. She side-eyes him cautiously, afraid he might actually end up breaking her family's drum.

"I can't believe James actually brought that ratchet thing," she mumbles, watching the drummer boy.

"Hey, it actually supports the hype," I tell her, nudging her arm with mine. "And can you not focus on the 'ratchet' drum for the duration of the game?"

She rolls her eyes. "I don't want to spend my time watching my brother's best friends play and win . . . again."

My other friend, Rowan Caddell, cocks her head and gives Fi a look. "You say that as if you're not going to be on the edge of your seat when we face Camber High."

"Do not even mention that hellhole of a school," Fi says, holding a hand with her palm facing Rowan's face.

Camber High is our number one rival school and the champion school of volleyball. We have never ever won a game against them—ever. They win volleyball championships all the time, and that boosts their ego even more. Everybody in school despises Camber. Their ego is so high that it makes the players the most obnoxious people ever to exist. Oh, my gosh—especially their student body.

Even though they are very egotistical at an annoying level, I can't really say anything since I have a friend that goes there. We're tight, but my friends don't like him because of the school he goes to.

I turn my attention back to the game. We already won two sets, so now we're on the third. Pinehill's right hitter jumps up and slams the ball hard, but thank God our best defense libero, Xiao Morgan, impressively digs it. Jonah Whitlock, our cracked setter, sets it high for our right hitter, Leon Rodriguez, to kill.

And it's an excellent kill. 23-22, and we're leading.

The drummer boy bangs the drum again as all of us Greyson High spectators applaud and cheer. My hands starts turning red as I clap over and over again. Jonah and Leon exchange hi-fives as Hugo Kelley, an outside hitter, prepares to serve.

"Whoa, Hugo's changed a lot since last year," Rowan says, leaning over to me and raising her voice over the loud screeches of the crowd.

"Like, in appearance or in skill?" I ask her, my eyes instantly finding Hugo's stature.

"Both," she says, and I take my time studying him.

She's right. During sophomore year, Hugo almost looked like a middle schooler with his little baby fat and his short hair. But now? He looks so much more different. He grew out his dark hair to the point that it shadowed his eyes, enhancing the stormy and intimidating impression that his face naturally gives off. Plus his baby fat disappeared, and his facial structures sharpened.

The whistle is blown, and Hugo tosses the ball in the air and sends it over the net. Pinehill successfully sends it back to our side, and James Bartlett passes it to Jonah. Our setter sets it over to Hugo's older brother, Milo Kelley, and the outside hitter spikes the ball. The Pinehill libero digs it, and the setter surprise spikes the ball. Xiao dives into the center, but the ball flies outside of the court and in my direction.

"GO, GO, GO!" Coach Will, head coach for Greyson, yells for hustle.

My eyes widen with alert as Hugo bolts at me, his eyes trained on the ball. His arms stretch out in a straight platform, and he passes it back in. However, his foot slips and he falls forward, his hands catching the edge of the bleachers behind me. Even though I'm already leaning away and against Ophelia, he's still pretty close to me, and his elbow jams against my collarbone and shoulder. He pushes himself back and steady on his feet, and he runs back on court with his team.