For sand volleyball I chose a much more modest swimsuit. Red and one piece and tight fitting so I didn't have a wardrobe malfunction diving into the sand. I was extremely competitive when it came to volleyball, participating in tournaments around Long Beach the summer after my senior varsity season.
I high-fived my best friend Marissa Le who was equally as competitive, despite her petite 5'2" frame. She had been the best defensive specialist in our conference and left to play at UC Santa Barbara when I left for UCLA.
"I can't believe he went out to lunch with Denise." Marissa made a gagging sound.
"Ugh. Can we not talk about it?" I begged, taking a pull from my water bottle. Marissa and I had just finished whooping our male counterparts, twice, but they still demanded a third set.
"Okay then, let's talk about how you never told me about how hot Mister Waterpolo is..."
"Who? Connor?" My eyes drifted across the court to Connor Williams, the junior captain of the UCLA men's water polo team. We'd met in my statistics class this past fall and had been fast friends. He was easy going and laid back and had a great smile. His was very tall, 6'5 or so with broad shoulders and muscles, and a tan, that complimented his shaggy blonde hair. "I guess I never really noticed." I admitted.
"Well, I think you need to get your vision checked..." Marissa laughed. "Boys! What do ya say we mix up the teams for this next game...to give you a fighting chance?" The guys shrugged and I raised an eyebrow, wondering what she was up to.
"Partners?" Marissa sauntered slowly over to Connor's teammate, Tre, with his short dark hair and honey colored eyes. She smiled at him, overtly enjoying his glistening muscular back as they walked under the net and stood on the opposite side.
Connor and I stood shoulder to shoulder, and I fought the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes at my best friend through the black netting. She was trying to be a good wing woman, when the only partner I really wanted was out to lunch with another girl. Fucking Denise Leibovich. I picked up the volleyball and beat it against the sand in frustration.
"I'm serving first." I declared, tossing the ball into the air, and jump served before Marissa could get ready, pounding her in the chest unapologetically.
"Damn bitch." She struggled sideways. "Eli should come back into town more often."
"Who?" Connor asked, tossing the ball back to me.
"No one. Just an old friend." I muttered. "One - oh." I called, tossing the ball up in the air again and focused on Marissa and Tre.
*********
Connor and I barely lost in extra points, and Marissa wouldn't let me forget it. I didn't know there was such thing as a sore winner, until I met this girl.
She brought it up as we swam in the pool, when we barbecued dinner, and even when we sat to watch the sunset on the beach. We had changed out of our wet swim suits and each sat in shorts and sweaters on the sand.
"Okay, okay. We get it, you're awesome." Conner groaned, putting his head against my shoulder as the sun set, and even I wasn't immune to his charms, goosebumps erupting down my arms. I didn't know how I'd missed it before, but Marissa was right. Conner was freaking good looking, and nice, and easy to get along with.
"Don't feed her ego any more." I warned, sifting my toes through the sand, sitting with my legs out in front of me and my arms supporting me from behind.
YOU ARE READING
The Sweetest Summer
Romansa**COMPLETE** Elijah West was everything, and I was just...Avery Adams. The tomboy, the girl next door, the friend zone occupant. The girl who somehow grew up while he was gone filming his television show. But this summer he's back, and the sparks a...
