Riptide

6

When we got into the gym, Coach Heather found us and smiled.

"Hey Delphi, your dad called ahead and told me you were bringing a friend. Have you ever played competitive volleyball before?" Coach Heather asked Walker.

"No." Walker said nervously. "I'm here cause I was promised cookies afterward."

"Walker!" I laugh. "Don't worry coach, I plan to teach him the basics and how we do things."

"Good job taking leadership, Delphi. Go get your jersey on." She told me. "And uhh, grab him a  jersey from last year."

"Come on school bell." I say and start toward the locker rooms.

"Right behind you." He answered.

🏐🏐🏐

After I got Walker situated with the jersey and rules of the gym, we went to the volleyball court to warm up.

I started by going over the basics with him, bumping/passing, setting and setting up, spiking and blocking. I also taught him positions and the roles each position had.

Then, the entire team started warming up and I helped him get the movements down. He was honestly pretty good and I could consider him a natural volleyball player.

Soon we started to practice serving, and he needed me to show him how to do it.

"Come here." I tell him.

He walks over to me at the back line of the court and I place him in front of me as I stand behind him.

"I can feel you breathing down my neck Del." He laughs nervously.

"Shut up." I mutter.

I adjust his stance and posture to be the most efficient for serving the ball over the net.

"You just toss it like this," I toss the ball right above my head. "And go for it, and make sure you go for the follow through."

I grab the ball off the floor and toss it like I showed him. I pull my arm back and swing for the serve, smacking it and pushing it all the way through.

The ball soars across the court and over the net before landing in the middle of the court on the other side.

"Holy shit!" Walker giggled and looked at the bouncing ball on the other side. "How did you do that so well?"

"I've been playing forever." I tell him and grab another ball out of the basket. "Your turn."

He takes the ball from me and dribbles it a bit before taking my spot. I come up behind him again and adjust his stance and shoulders so that aiming would be easier for him.

"Go for it." I warn him when it falls too low.

He tossed the ball up like I did and smacked it, but he hit it a bit too late. The ball went flying into the net and fell to the floor.

"Oh come on." He complained. "You're cheating. That's what's going on here. Cheater."

"I'm am not!" I hit his shoulder lightly. "You hit it too late, go a little bit sooner."

"Alright, alright." He grabs another ball and gets back to his spot.

I once again come up behind him, but only have to adjust his arm this time.

He tosses it up, it starts coming down.

"Now." I whisper to him.

He swings his arm and it flies over the net and lands in the front row, right in front of the 10-foot line.