Chapter 5
five
HOLDEN
Next to me, Dad squirmed and shook his head. Mom sat on his other side, stiffly. “Christy shouldn’t be coaching,” he grumbled. “Does she even know what she’s doing?” He was just being protective of Anna and her love of this sport, but it wasn’t Christy’s fault they were losing.
“Dad. The JV coach quit. You know that. Anna told you. I’m fairly certain this is not Christy’s idea of a good time.”
I leaned to my other side, to Gideon Alvarez, who’d planted himself next to me before the game even started.
“Man, these positions are all wrong.” He had graduated three years before Silas, Sophie, and Lemon, but we were both UVA alum, so we always spoke when we saw each other.
“Anna should be playing middle. And number eleven…she should be the libero.” A serve from the Eagles landed right between the center and left-back players with zero effort to stop it.
They both looked dumbfounded, like “I thought you were going to get that.” I groaned and flung my hands up.
“They’re not talking to each other.” I was no volleyball expert, but my minor was in physical education and we’d had to do mock coaching of all major high school sports. I knew enough.
Alvarez shouldn’t have been over here by me. He should’ve been sitting next to Christy, helping her.
He didn’t even comment on my comment. Just grunted.
And then said, “Man, ain’t our new principal smokin’?
” He flicked his wrist like he’d been burned.
Alvarez had a strange accent. Half Black, half country, like he couldn’t figure out his own angle.
A surge of protective jealousy roared through me and I stamped it out.
Christy and I are not a thing, I reminded myself.
Alvarez can check her out if he wants. But then he sucked his teeth. “Imma try to get with that.”
I cleared my throat and laced my fingers in my lap, to keep from punching him in the side of the head. “Pretty sure that’ll get you fired.” There was no way abstaining from fraternizing with other faculty wasn’t in their contract.
Another serve landed in the “campfire” behind our front-row girls.
Mom put her head in her hands and Dad blew out his breath, annoyed.
A guy in the front row stood up and yelled at his daughter, whose face burst into flame.
Anna’s shoulders slumped and Christy kept rubbing the back of her neck, looking helpless.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I slid my phone out of my jeans pocket, praying Christy had her phone on her.
Me: Don’t hate me. Just trying to help. Anna should be middle. She’s the tallest and has a strong jump. Number eleven should be libero. And the girl playing outside hitter might do better as opposite. Just a thought.
My thumb hovered above send. She might take this the wrong way—like I was mansplaining the game. But after another point scored for the Eagles, I went for it.
Nosey Alvarez must’ve been reading over my shoulder because his eyes moved from my lap to Christy, across the court.
I rubbed my jaw, willing her to feel the buzz of the phone that was hopefully in her pocket or somewhere nearby. She jerked a little and I was pretty sure her phone was on her person. Maybe in that jacket pocket. But like a good coach, she was ignoring it.
Me: Hey.
Again she twitched but left it.
Me: Christy?
Alvarez leered back and forth. “You know uh?” he asked. Uh, meaning her.
I nodded and chose my words carefully. The last thing Silas, Lemon, or Christy needed was for people to know there was a history there. “She and Silas were in the same master’s program. He kind of introduced us. So yeah, we’re friends.”
I let myself quickly glance over to gauge his reaction.
He said nothing, hopefully rethinking his earlier comments about Christy’s hotness.
Christy still wasn’t checking her phone. After yet another point, I hissed under my breath, call a timeout.
My telepathy game must’ve been strong because her hands flew up in a T.
The ref blew the whistle. I hit call on her name just long enough for her to feel the long buzz of the phone.
As the girls gathered around her, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, looked at the screen, and then across at me.
I pointed to my phone, and she nodded. Her eyes dropped, desperately scanning my words.
She shoved her phone back in her pocket, rolled her shoulders back, and started barking orders.
When those girls walked back onto the floor, every suggestion I’d made had been implemented. I exhaled, hoping they would work.
Christy dropped back into the chair, looking worn out, and picked up her phone.
Ten seconds later, mine buzzed.
Christy: I’m dying, Holden. I have no idea what I’m doing. The varsity coach just no-showed. He’s sick or something.
Alvarez was reading every word, practically straining his neck when I slid the phone to the opposite side of my body.
Me: It’s just one game. It’ll be okay. Hopefully, things will turn around right here.
Just then, the Eagles’ middle spiked on Anna.
Anna jumped straight up, her eyes squeezed shut, terrified, but she slapped that ball back down, landing a kill on the other side.
I nearly came up out of my seat, I cheered so loud.
The stands exploded and her teammates surrounded her, slapping her on the back, shoulder, butt, wherever they could get their hands on her.
Dad sat up taller, grinning. “That’s our girl.” Mom relaxed slightly. I only wished we’d been videoing so Silas and Lemon could see later.
Christy kept her focus on the game, but her phone never left her hands, carefully placed in her lap like I was a literal lifeline. Which was fine. Mine never left my hand either.
Our girls came back with a vengeance, but it was too big a divide to close, and the set ended Eagles 25, Stallions 20. At least it wasn’t a blowout.
I stood and stretched, trying to pop my back. My phone buzzed.
Christy: Any chance you want to come hold my hand for the next set?
She followed that with a “gritting teeth” emoji.
I bit back a smile.
Me: Thought you’d never ask.
Her relief was visible from across the floor.
I leaned over to my parents. “Hey, I’m gonna go help coach.”
Dad smiled up at me. “Best idea all night.”
I gave Alvarez a, “See ya, man,” and bounded down the bleachers, leaving him slack-jawed at missing his chance.
I didn’t cut across the floor but took my time tracing the perimeter of the court.
There was a beautiful, off-limits blonde waiting for me.
And she was looking at me like she’d been floating in the middle of the ocean on a driftwood raft lashed together with dried-up vines and I’d just pulled up in my million-dollar yacht.
Christy’s brown eyes burned into me as I walked up.
“Hey,” was all she said. Women should not be allowed to wear leggings.
It was just mean. At least when they looked as good as Christy.
Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, showing off her flushed cheeks, possibly from the stress of the first set.
The same way they’d flushed when we kissed.
STOP.
“Hey.” I shoved my hands deep into my pockets.
Anna skipped over, her eyes dancing. “Uncle Holden, did you see my kill?”
I laid my hand out for our low five, sizzle fingers. “So sick.” I bumped her shoulder with mine. “Next time, try to keep your eyes open.”
She laughed and covered her face with her hands, embarrassed. “I know. I know.”
I grinned, not even trying to hide the pride bursting out of me.
Christy watched us, her lips turning up at the corners and her eyes bright. I ran a hand through the front of my hair and looked away. She’s just grateful you’re helping. That’s all.
The rest of Anna’s team was eyeing me, wondering, I’m sure, what I was doing there.
“He’s cute,” I heard one girl whisper behind me.
Pretty sure Christy heard it too because heat tickled the top of her ears. I might’ve preened a little. So yeah, maybe she was still in love with my brother. But I had some kind of effect on her and, not gonna lie, it felt good.
“All right, all right,” Christy motioned for them to gather ’round. “This is Anna’s uncle, Holden, and he’s going to help coach the rest of the game.”
They looked at me with expressions varying from curiosity to gratitude to downright suspicion.
“Holden Dupree?” The girl Christy had moved to libero snapped her fingers, eying me. “You played baseball with my uncle back in the day. He talks about you all the time. Says you should’ve played college ball, but you gave it up for law school?”
My eyes narrowed, trying to figure out which of my high school teammates she looked like. Then it hit me. “You’re Colby Jones’s niece?” The button nose was a clone of his.
She beamed. “Yeah.” She pointed to her uncle in the stands.
Dude was wearing a GoPro on his hat, filming her.
He had glasses now. No wonder I hadn’t recognized him.
Maybe I could get a replay of Anna’s kill to show Silas and Lemon.
He tossed his chin up at me and I grinned back. I’d have to say hello after the game.
“Holden is the reason we had a little comeback. It was his idea to move some of you around.” Christy smiled at me, eyes sparkling.
I bit the insides of my cheeks, not to smile at that.
Most of her worry from a few minutes earlier was gone.
“Words of encouragement before the second set starts?” she asked.
Every girl’s gaze turned to me.
Okay. Yeah.