Sam punched him on the shoulder again, but harder this time. “No way! Not like that. That is just plain wrong and gross. Is your mind always in the gutter?”
“Pretty much,” they both answered at the same time.
“I think Coach was trying to distract me,” Sam said. “She knows how hard these last few months have been. And that coming home wouldn’t be easy. I think she thought volleyball would be a nice distraction.”
“Or she just wanted your help, being one of the infamous Six and all.”
Sam shook off the comment with a shrug. Small towns were more than a little bit annoying. Everyone knew who you were. Not only that, but they knew everything there was to know about you, your family, your family’s family…even your pet had no secrets. Well, very few secrets anyway. Here, everyone took credit for what you became, whether they had anything to do with it or not. And more than likely, it was not. Tonight alone, about five people hadstopped Sam to reminisce about the good old days, to talk about the Six, or just to ask random questions about college or her life now. Mostly, though, they wanted to offer their condolences. Sam knew they meant well, but it was exhausting…hence the vodka. And because of all the vodka and soda, now she had to pee. She debated getting up, wondering how many times she would be stopped before she made it to the ladies’ room.
“Ah…Sam?” Jordan’s questioning tone interrupted her train of thought.
“Ah…yeah, Jordan?”
“You’re not going to like this, but I think Alex Weaver just walked in the door.”
Alexandra Weaver. Of all the people, what were the fucking chances? Sam’s head swiveled from left to right as she inadvertently sank lower into the bleachers.
“What?” It came out as a whisper. “Where?” She peeked around Jordan’s shoulder to look toward the gymnasium door. Her heart stopped, and her breath hitched in her chest. She felt hot. Jordan wasn’t wrong. It most definitely was Alex Weaver. She was making her way up the bleachers with someone who looked like it could be her mother, but Sam couldn’t tell from her slouched vantage point. Great. Alex and Nadine Weaver. The night was just getting better. Tagging along behind them was a young girl with long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail.That’s right, Alex has a daughter.
No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. Sam’s eyes scanned the room, looking for a way out. Her only options were to pass Alex or walk across the court mid-match to the door on the far side of the gymnasium. She was trapped. Maybe Alex hadn’t spotted her…she could wait until the end of the game, after everyone left, and take option two out of the far side door. Sam risked another glance over Jordan’s shoulder in Alex’s direction and then sighed. She had never been very lucky.
Alex had paused slightly midway up the bleachers, her head tilted in their general direction, almost like she sensed Sam’s presence. But as she made her way into a row to sit down, Sam hoped that maybe she had just been looking for someone else.
Sam leaned around behind Jordan to get a better look. Evenfrom the back, she could tell that the years had been kind to Alex. Alex had been an effortlessly beautiful girl in high school, and it was clear that she had matured into an even more attractive woman. Sam studied her familiar profile from the side. She closed her eyes and realized even after all these years, she still had every inch of the other woman’s features memorized—her glacier-blue eyes, lightly freckled nose, and the slight dimple in the corner of her right cheek that popped when she gave a real smile. Despite her almost flawless facial features, Sam had always been most drawn to Alex’s hair. It looked shorter now, falling just below Alex’s shoulders and slightly darker with age, but it was still a wavy mass of tangled blond curls. Sam wondered if it was as soft and silky as it had always been, then mentally kicked herself for the thought.
Alex had taken a seat next to Emily Hunter, one of their old friends from high school. Sam had seen Emily on her way in and stopped briefly for a hug and a bit of small talk. Emily knew that Sam was there, and inevitably, she would blow her cover. Sure enough, Sam watched as Emily leaned in to whisper something in Alex’s ear, her head tilting in their general direction. Alex’s shoulders stiffened slightly, her head slowly turning toward where they were seated. Sam pulled back as fast as she could so she wouldn’t be caught staring. But she still felt like Alex had spotted them. Her face heated in response.
Of course Jordan noticed. He reached over and took her hand. “Just breathe,” Jordan whispered. “You’re okay.” He passed her the water bottle. Sam twisted off the cap and took a long drink of straight vodka. She took several deep, calming breaths and leaned back in her seat, trying to settle back in and watch the game, but she knew it was going to be a long night.
The rest of the match seemed to take an eternity, mainly because Sam was hyperaware of Alex. She could feel any time the other woman’s head moved, when she leaned over to speak to Emily, or when she clapped in response to a point. Sam wouldn’t look her way, though. She couldn’t look at her. Just being in the same room with her after all these years was enough to get her heart racing. She tried to pay attention to the game so she could offer Coach Stevens some feedback or, at the very least, speak intelligently about theHicksville team. But she was too distracted by Alex’s presence. It was likely that the vodka didn’t help either.
When the final whistle blew, she was off the bleachers in a flash. She made her way over to the bench, where the players were milling about, celebrating. The Hornets had ended the game on a high note, narrowly winning the last set and taking the match. Coach Stevens saw her approach and pulled away, her arms outstretched for a hug. Sam fell into it easily. Coach Stevens had been one of her mentors both on and off the court when she was in school. More than just a coach, she also taught English, a subject that Sam had always loved. They had spent hours talking about books that Sam mostly read outside of class. It was Coach who had pushed her so hard to get out of Hicksville in the first place, who had helped her apply to colleges. And it was Coach’s connections that likely got her a spot on the volleyball team at Boston University.
Coach Stevens ended the hug and held her at arm’s length. “Well, what did you think?”
“The girls looked great!” Aside from a few minor points, Sam had been impressed with the team overall. “There’s definitely a lot of talent there. They seem young, though. Like they haven’t quite had the time to gel.”
“You’re exactly right.” Coach nodded, pointing at her for emphasis. “We only have two seniors. The rest of the team is relatively young. But you guys were young once, too, remember?”
Sam smiled and shook her head. She looked across the court at the sectionals banner hanging on the wall. Her eyes drifted to Jordan, who had made his way over to Alex. They were both eyeing her from across the court. Jordan looked to be talking expressively, waving his hands in the air. Alex seemed nervous, shifting from side to side on the balls of her feet. Sam sighed. In no way was she prepared to go over there. She turned her back on the two of them and leaned in toward Coach. “I’d love to meet the girls.”
Fifteen minutes later, she had met and chatted with most of the team. She also spent a few minutes reviewing the game with Coach Stevens, who was impressed by her observations. She invited her to a practice the next week to work with the girls. Sam promised she would try to make it and said her goodbyes. She looked backacross the court to see that her plan had worked. Jordan was still waiting, but Alex was nowhere to be seen. He stood, leaning against the bleachers. He gave her a look as she approached.
“What?” Sam asked innocently. “There ain’t no way in hell I’m ready for Alexandra-fucking-Weaver.”
Jordan just shook his head. “She’s divorced, you know.”
“And how would I know that?” Sam snapped, glancing toward the door, almost as if she expected Alex to walk back in. “She hasn’t spoken to me in years.”
“She also couldn’t take her eyes off you just now.”
Sam’s head shot back, her eyes searching Jordan’s face. “You’re full of it,” she finally said.
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying.”
“Well, I’m not listening.”
“Maybe for once in your life, you should.” Jordan crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe you should just talk to her, Sam.”
