Born Wicked

XXXIII

I slam the locker shut. The sound reverberates through the near-empty locker room. I adjust my shirt, the garishly bright red of the Salem High Witches uniform near blinding in the fluorescent lights. I peer at myself in the full length mirror hung at the end of this row.

I'm changing. I've always been slender, but now I'm lithe, my muscles curving beneath my skin more pronounced. Ethan was able to get the equipment we needed and I've been weight training in the athletics building during study period instead of loafing around the library.

My black shorts are still ridiculously short, but my legs and behind have filled out a little, making them stretch taut across my hips. Yikes. I tug at the hems of the legs and sigh. It's no use. I'm going to have to ask Coach for a larger pair. It's not really about a bigger size, but jeez, I need a little room to bend.

"Hey, Jayme, are you ready?" Mandy asks me.

Yes, the same Mandy who has avoided me since forever. "Yeah," I reply trotting out after her and Paige.

Both mundane girls, they have no idea that a handful of their classmates are in fact witches. Which is ironic given that we live in a town that idolizes them. Since becoming "friends" with Julian, Tristan, and Mike, my popularity has skyrocketed. Well, if you count people actually making eye contact and speaking to me being popular.

The gym is booming with the cheers and overall wall of noise that is the crowd. The bleachers are swarming with students, parents, and faculty. Even if they aren't all volleyball fans, they're here. We play Beverly tonight and being the next town over, it is our biggest rivalry.

Regardless of the sport, when it's a Beverly game everyone comes out to show support.

The Panthers are a fierce team. Their gaudy orange and black uniforms swarm the court, shoes shrieking against the hardwood. It only takes me a moment to spot Ethan. He's sitting a few rows back, right behind our bench. Flanked by Julian and Tristan, he doesn't notice me at first. Georgia waves from beside a few of the other teachers sitting directly behind us.

I toss her a wave and join the squad. Girls are stretching and I realize belatedly, I haven't tied my hair back. Shit. Before Coach Stahl can chew me out, I flip my head over and dangle my long sweep of hair to the floor, bent at the waist.

Quickly, I wrap my hair around my forearm and wrist and wrap it smoothly. A couple turns and I have it wound into a coil at the top of my head. Before the blood gets a chance to fully flood my brain I lift my face and tie my hair. Opening my eyes, my gaze collides with ocean blue.

I feel the blush rush to my cheeks. The heat spreads from my hairline to my chin. I quickly drop my gaze, falter, and then join the rest of my team.

I don't know why I'm so embarrassed. Nor do I know why I'm so aware. I feel the hair at the base of my skull stand. I can't help it. I glance quickly over my shoulder and meet not only blue, but moss green, too. Both boys are so caught in staring at me they don't realize they share the same look of smoldering heat. Oh, hell. I feel another wash of red surge beneath my skin and I've never been more grateful for Coach Stahl than this exact moment.

"Dammit, Price!" she snarls, "Get your head in the damn game and off the boys."

A few of the girls giggle while I rip my gaze back to front and center. Blythe just glowers at me.

"Teenagers," Coach grumbles, shaking her head. "Alright, girls. Paige and Mandy are setters tonight. Blythe and Jayme-Lynn are our outside hitters, and you two—" she points ate the two girls beside me, "as middle hitters. Mandy, opposite hitter. You ladies know the drill. If we're offense first, then we set the pace and go in strong. Alright? Places!"