23. Lieutenant Lil
23
Lieutenant Lil
Rockwell
W e’ve spent the last couple of days with my parents, enjoying spring break, showing Clay the city I grew up in, and eating our hearts out with all the home-cooked meals we could want. Clay has been so peaceful compared to how wound up he usually is at school. It makes me tear up thinking about how much stress his family causes him… especially his dick head of a father. I think he needed this time with my family more than I did.
It makes me even more thankful for the parents my soul was brought to; then Clay’s soul aligned with my path, no matter how hard I fought it in the beginning… so I could show him what the true meaning of family and unconditional love is.
Clay’s dad, Charles, constantly reminds Clay that the only reason Clay is as talented as he is, is because of him, saying Clay would have never gotten anywhere if it weren’t for his genes or money. Like all of that makes up for acting like an arrogant, egotistical asshole and being an absent father. What a fucking joke. It’s no wonder Clay has such a hard time hearing how incredible he is, he’s never even heard it from the two people that should shower him with love and praise unconditionally. I couldn’t imagine bringing a child into this world, looking at them, and only thinking about what that child could do to make me look better. For his entire life, Clay’s every feeling, thought, and desire has been shoved to the side in order to accomplish the goal of being Charles Aldrich’s son. Not just Clay .
Both of us are cuddled up in my bed, still not fully awake, watching Emily in Paris , per his orders. He about stroked out when I said I hadn’t seen it… Like, I would’ve ever watched this shit on my own. It is funny as fuck, even though I would never admit that to him. His head is lying on my shoulder, his leg slung over the top of mine, and I’m skating my fingers over his back.
?? 1 I push off getting up for as long as possible. I’m way too content with Clay beside me in my bed.
As if she knows I feel at peace, Lil comes barreling into my room, yelling, “Up! Let’s go run some drills, ladies!”
“Can you fucking knock, Lil? Goddamn.” Clay’s instantly sitting up with his back up against the wall.
“Language!” I hear Mom yell from the living room. “Goddamn” is her least favorite cuss word but one of my favorites.
With the most exhausted voice, I tell my annoying little sister, “Out. We’ll be ready in a minute.”
We agreed to go to the beach today to run some drills with my dad and Lil, knowing I'd also be able to shoot content for a couple of brand contracts I have while we're there, but I figured it would be later on… I should’ve known better with her. She’s always been a morning person.
Climbing out of bed, I slide on one my favorite pairs of black shorts that make my ass look out of this world and my American Dad crop that I cut up myself with Rodgers on the front dressed in one of his many get-ups. Clay throws on some matching shorts, and fuck, I can’t keep my eyes off his thighs and that lean waist of his. He chooses a normal T-shirt, clearly deciding to be boring today.
We walk into the living room, and my dad and Lil are standing at the door, ready to go, but not before we’re forced to put on sunscreen. Having a sister who’s obsessed with skin and skincare can be annoying sometimes, but I guess we won’t croak over from skin cancer, so that’s something. After ten minutes of lathering ourselves in sunscreen we all pile into the car for the short drive over to the beach.
I catch myself staring at Clay way too often, especially while we’re both stretching out on the sand court. The beach is only a short ten minutes away from the house, but that didn’t stop Clay from snuggling up to me in the back seat while my dad drove and Lil rode shotgun. Still fully checking him out, I bend at the hip, making sure my hamstrings are nice and loose, ensuring I’m warmed up since it’s been a minute since we played last. We’re used to practicing daily, but since we haven’t been moving these past couple of days like we normally do, not stretching properly is asking for a torn muscle, and we sure as fuck don’t need that.
“Come on, ladies! Let’s get a move on! I’m trying to get some hits in.” Lord, she’s on one today.
Lil played volleyball throughout school. Although she could easily have gone to a D1 college, her true passion was pursuing being an esthetician. Volleyball was her one love for so long, I know she misses it more than she’ll admit. I hate that we’re a whole country apart, and playing together isn’t an option—even if that does look like us just playing pick-up on the beach.
My dad and Lil are on the other side of the net, and Clay looks at me like he’s asking, “should we take it easy on them”? He clearly hasn’t picked up on the competitive nature of my whole family.
My dad’s a big man and scares the shit out of most people, but then he opens his mouth and that’s when you find out he’s just a softy deep down. He’s six-three and bulky, pretty much a spitting image of me without the dark complexion that I got from my momma .
My dad chuckles. “Go ahead and start deflating those egos.” He’s up at the net, holding the ball, and my sister is on the left side, looking ready to murder us.
Clay mumbles under his breath, “Why am I kind of scared?”
“You honestly should be,” I answer him truthfully.
“BALL!” my dad yells out, tossing the volleyball to Lil, who in turn, passes him the perfect ball. He sets her up beautifully, and she approaches, attacking the ball. It’s heading for Clay, but it’s shorter than he expected. Normally, shorter people can’t jump high enough to get on top of the ball, even more so in sand, forcing their hits to go long. I know that’s what he was thinking as he readied himself further back because I would’ve done the same if I didn’t know how good my sister was.
Lil has fucking hops, though.
Clay’s diving into the sand, reaching out for the ball, but comes up a couple of inches short. It hits the ground right in front of his hands, throwing sand up in his face.
“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Lil says while turning around to get back, ready to hit again.
They go through the same routine, but this time she’s gunning for me. I’m ready, though, digging the ball up perfectly, right into Clay’s waiting hands. He sets me up beautifully. I make my approach, but my dad is there, ready to block as I hit into his hands with all my might, but there’s no going around him. The old man stuffs me, causing the ball to ricochet so hard off his hands that Clay is able to pass it back up to me. I send it up in a set, and Clay’s approaching it at full speed. Lil tries to block him, but he’s got too much height on her and pure fucking power behind him. He slams the ball down the line, and all I hear is slow clapping from my dad.
“Boy, you’re fucking good! And you two together…” he says, on a huff. “Untouchable. You each pick up each other’s weak spots and build off of them.” He’s looking at us in amazement, and honestly, I don’t know why… That wasn’t all that crazy of a play, but what he said rings true. We have each other’s backs and always know what the other is going to do before we do it, and it’s never been this easy with any other partner I’ve had.
And what do we do?
Start fucking around with each other like a bunch of dumbasses, risking the championship and the sure track to the Olympics were riding on.
But it’s worth it, and if it does work out, we’re going to be unstoppable. I can hear the announcers now: “Clay and Rocky, the power partners on the sand, and the power couple off.”
Speaking of being a couple, he hasn’t called me Baby at all since that one slip-up at the last game, and that’s way too long for my liking. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss something so small until I didn’t have it anymore.
Clay’s voice pulls me out of my spiral. “You’re not so bad yourself, Joe. Did you play?”
“Nope, I just picked up what I could from these two troublemakers—enough to be able to keep up with them and train the best I could with what we had.” I really do try not to take for granted what I grew up with and what my parents selflessly offered up. It may not have been money, but my dad willingly learned a new sport—as an adult—regardless of how hard that is… But he did it, and he did it perfectly.
We keep running through drills and talking all kinds of smack, but the same thought won’t quiet down in my head…
Why has Clay suddenly stopped calling me Baby? The more I think about it, the more I realize he must be doing it on purpose, and I’m about to be fed the fuck up.
1. Work Out - J. Cole