Just A Teasing Book

Part 2: It's seventh grade for goodness sake!

End of February 2016

(Again, for some of these, I really have no idea when they happened, so just deal with the mystery, okay?)

"Renee, Jackie, come with me please," Coach Mills calls Jackie, the other middle hitter, and I over to the corner of the gym by two green double doors. We give each other a skeptical look when hustling over to meet him. Very suspicious. "Follow me."

Jackie and I share another unsure look. We follow him out of the doors, from the gym, and down the hall to stand beside two drinking fountains. Why beside the drinking fountains, I don't know.

He waits until he knows we are stopped and listening before beginning to speak.

"Do you girls have anything you have planned during spring break?" he asks. He turns his head from side to side to look at both of us. The question causes me to be curious. Too casual to make us leave the gym. Something's up.

I think about it.

Even though spring break is only in two weeks or so, and I know that I don't have anything planned, the question is like the hardest question ever asked in the history of mankind.

Renee, you don't have anything going on.

I continue thinking about it.

RENEE! Answer him you idiot!

"I don't think so," I finally respond, shaking my head at the same time. Jackie responds with the same words. He pauses for a moment.

"Well, I'd like you two to dress for the eighth grade post season," he states in a very formal manner.

Called it! Something WAS up.

My eyes get super huge after he says that. I look at Jackie who smiles widely at me. I return the smile.

"Okay!" I nod, failing at hiding the excitement coursing through me. He smiles, amused at our reactions.

"Are you both okay with that?" he asks.

Did he... Did he seriously just ask that?

Nooooooo. I don't want to dress for the eight grade post season because that's just too great of an honor to uphold or accept. Considering the girls one year older are just absolutely amazing at volleyball, I think I'd just collapse under the pressure.

Hell yeah, I'm fine with dressing for eighth grade post season!

(Keep in mind I don't say this to Coach Mills because that'd be a just a teensy bit... inappropriate. Just a teensy bit. Also, at this time, I didn't cuss like I do now. I don't even cuss very often at all now either.)

Okay! Renee! You're rambling! Just get on with the story already.

Both Jackie and I look at him like he's an idiot. I'm sorry, but that question was just stupid.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine with it," I say slowly, just so he'll understand. I feel like one of those idiot girls in movies who talk slowly and very loudly to children because they think the kids are like from Mars or Pluto or something.