The gymnasium was filled with the crowd's cheers, anticipating and dreading the final service that would decide the result of the match. Everything began to flow in slow motion, from the point of the server's play to the moment it entered our court. A dragged out breath exhaled from my lungs, where I hoped that my legs wouldn't collapse from the fatigue strangling them as I moved to return the ball. My eyes followed the path of the blue and white volleyball soaring through the air, a substantial amount of force energizing its journey towards me. Bracing myself to receive the serve, I extended my forearms and made contact with the ball. It traveled to one of my teammates, where they pushed it back up into the air. She easily set up the power for a beautiful, clean and powerful spike, effectively sealing our team's fate.
Both the crowd sitting on the bleachers and our team erupted in celebration, following the referee blowing their whistle and awarding our team the final and winning point. Any hopes of maintaining a withdrawn and detached attitude were destroyed when I was dragged into the team celebration. The other girls crowded around me, screaming their heads off and crying tears of joy and glory. Clarice, the person guilty of dragging me into the memorialization of our achievements- stood behind me with her hands on my shoulders. She jumped up and down, screaming praises at the top of her lungs. I relented to the team's and coaches' cheers, letting a small smile tug on my lips and I participated in the last hurray of the night.
"I can't believe it!" Clarice exclaimed, shutting the door to her locker. "We'll become the first female team to reach city finals!"
Clarice suddenly threw her arms around my shoulders, pulling me into an unexpected hug. I froze in her arms, suddenly feeling uncomfortable upon contact. She retraced her arms and replaced the hug with an ear to ear grin. Though she didn't verbally express it, I knew that she was overcome with mountains of happiness. She was a veteran of Whitewood's volleyball team, having made it through try-outs for three years in a row. If there was any question about the team, Clarice was the girl to ask. When she told me that the female volleyball team never made it to city finals before, it took me by surprise in all honesty. The other girls were far more skilled than me, I was sure that they would have been graced with a place in the city finals prior to my inclusion.
Where was all the blame? The blame can be placed on our long-time rivals, Kingsman High. Countless stories and rumors floated around about that school, and they were not something to be proud of unless you were a Kingsman. No matter how dirty or low their cheats were, they would do anything to land on top of the food chain and maintain their rule over the sports division. There was a constant power struggle between the two schools, creating a dangerous relationship between its student bodies. If a Whitewood were to cross paths with a Kingsman, things would surely break out into a fight, no question about it. Thankfully, I have not had any encounters with them yet.
Pulling my bag over my shoulder, I followed my friend out of the change room and into the main hallways of the school. It was early evening, no other students- except those from the game- remained in the corridors, creating a sweet silence throughout the school. Saying my goodbyes to Clarice in the parking lot, I made my way to my car and drove home.
"Laurence! I'm back!" I announced into our apartment, kicking my shoes off and storing then on the shoe rack.
Hearing no reply, I walked into the main living space, immediately greeted by the soft glow of the living room. Walking around the couch, I saw my little brother curled up on the cushions, fast asleep. Judging by his messy and tousled dark brown locks, he's had a hard day at school. I noticed the several textbooks crowding our coffee table, as well as his notebooks that held confident, dark graphite on its pages. Sighing in adoration, I gently grabbed his arm and pulled him onto my back. It took very little effort to carry him to his bedroom, he was far lighter than me.
"Sis… you're back…" he grumbled, wrapping his arms around my neck.
Chuckling softly, I set him down onto his bed and pulled the blankets over him. Almost immediately, he snuggled into the sheets, burying his face into his pillow. I reached for his head, playfully ruffling his hair.
"Sorry I took so long and missed dinner. The game ran a little longer than I expected."
"It's okay…" he reassured before drifting off to sleep.
"Goodnight bud."
Shutting the door to his bedroom, I made my way back to the living room and organized his study material. One of his tests suddenly slipped out of one of his textbooks and onto the floor. Picking it up, I let a proud smile grace my face as I saw a lack of red ink marking the page. Instead, a large perfect score sat in the top right corner, along with a crudely drawn smiley face. Chuckling softly, I stuffed it back into his textbook and set it back down onto the table.
Following a quick dinner, I freshened up in the bathroom before heading to my room. Slipping under the covers of my bed, I went to sleep.
The next morning, I was up at the crack of dawn, preparing breakfast for both Laurence and myself. The savory smell of pancakes wafted through the air, no doubt it would attract my brother into the kitchen. On cue, he walked into the area as I piled one last pancake onto a plate, attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes. I held back a snicker, noting his serious case of bed head. Laurence made himself comfortable at our dining nook, trying not to fall asleep at the table.
"How was school yesterday?" I asked, setting his plate down in front of him.
Yawning widely, he grabbed the maple syrup and poured the liquid gold onto his food. I knew he liked a little extra syrup on his pancakes, so I didn't question him
"It was okay, I made a friend."
"Is it a girl?" I asked, smiling upon seeing his cheeks blush pink.
Laurence stood up from his seat in adamant protest, almost knocking over a cup of orange juice I poured for him. I couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, telling him to sit down and eat. From time to time, I like to poke fun at him about any friends he made.
"Bud, you're fourteen, it's alright to have a crush," I continued and he glared at me. "I'm just teasing you, relax."
My little brother sighed and fell back in his seat, crossing his arms and puffing his cheeks out. He quickly finished his breakfast however, an expression of satisfaction masking over his maturing features. Before I knew it, it was replaced by a guilty look.
"Florence, do we still have money?" he asked hesitantly.
Remembering that there was still thirteen-hundred left in the honey jar, I nodded. However, I was concerned about what he needed it for. He never asked for money, unless he absolutely needed it.
"My teacher gave me my school fees a few days ago," he said, trying to hide his coping mechanism of biting his lips. "Two-ninety…"
"Laurence, you should have told me sooner."
"I know- it's just… I know our rent and utility are coming up and I wasn't sure how to tell you…"
Without speaking another word or questioning him further, I walked into the kitchen and towards the fridge. Climbing onto the counter, I reached for the old honey jar sitting on top and collecting dust. Lifting the lid, I dug around and pulled out three-hundred dollars exactly. Placing the jar back into its place, I jumped down to the floor and neatly folded the cash.
"Use the extra ten for lunch today," I said, handing him the wad of bills. "Money won't be a problem in the next few days, so don't worry."
"I hate this…" he said guiltily.
I pressed my lips into a thin line, mirroring the look of despise on his face.
"Me too Bud, but we don't have any other way."
After dropping Laurence off to school and saying our goodbyes for the day, I made my way to Whitewood High, easily parking in a vacant parking spot. As I exited my car, I easily inserted myself into the smooth flow of people traveling towards the front doors. The moment I got to my lockers to get my books, I was ambushed by Clarice.
"The volleyball teams are having a party on Friday-"
Without letting her finish, I struck her suggestion down. Even without hearing what she everything had to say, I knew how she was going to finish her sentence. Parties were never my thing, nor will they ever be.
"You've yet to experience a senior party. I'll pick you up at seven," she said, completely ignoring what I had said earlier.
"Clarice-" I snapped, thinking how bold she was to assume that would instantly say 'yes.'
"Please, Florence?" she begged, grabbing my hand. "Please?"
Sighing frustratedly, I relented and hesitantly agreed to go to the party, a party at a house owned by a person I didn't even know. Knowing how persistent she was no matter the case, Clarice wouldn't stop bugging me until I surrendered. She chimed victoriously, punching her arms out excitedly.
What did I just get myself into?