Chapter 13
The Halsted LGBTQ Center’s gymnasium buzzed with the kind of chaotic energy that only came from competitive queers with something to prove.
Solo stood at the door, watching teams organize themselves on either side of the volleyball net on the “serious” court.
Lea, one of the regulars, came over to Solo and asked her to join them.
Solo gestured to the middle court. “My crew is waiting for me,” she said.
Though even if they weren’t, she found playing with Lea challenging.
The way Lea’s breast implants didn’t bounce in her boob tube was fascinating, and how her butt cheeks, which more than peeked out of her hotpants, seemed to have a mind of their own was way too mesmerizing to actually concentrate on a game.
Lea pushed out her Botox-enhanced bottom lip. “You never play with me anymore.”
“That’s because I like winning, and all of this,” Solo waved in the direction of Lea’s charms, “makes that incredibly difficult.”
“Fine.” Lea smiled widely and pinched Solo’s cheek. “Go play with your bois,” she said and went back to her team.
Solo looked down the corridor and considered backtracking.
After Janie’s bombshell at lunch, she’d decided not to come.
Gabe had texted Solo, convincing her she needed to get out of her own head.
So she’d put the triplets to bed as usual at seven and got ready.
Her dad had assured her he’d be fine on his own and that sitting at home obsessing over Janie’s parents wasn’t going to fix anything.
“Solo, get your ass over here,” Woody shouted from the bleachers at the edge of court two. “We need you on the team before Gabe claims someone from the dark side to play with us.”
Solo couldn’t help but smile as she made her way across the shiny hardwood floor.
She’d been going to the open gym volleyball night for a year before the gang had come together again, and once she’d introduced them to it a month ago, it had quickly become a weekly institution.
The sessions attracted everyone from seasoned athletes to people who’d never touched a ball in their lives, and the only rules were to try your best, talk your trash, and not be an asshole.
“Dark side?” Gabe raised her eyebrow and laughed. “What is this? Star Wars?”
“Close. Volleyball wars.” Woody jabbed her finger at Gabe’s chest. “We’re creating a volleyball dynasty, and I won’t stand for anything less than total victory. Solo’s instrumental, you know that.”
“You all take this very seriously for a community thing,” Lori said and gave a small smile.
Lori had been coming for a couple of weeks, but she was often so quiet that Solo sometimes forgot she was there.
Gabe’s constant awareness of her however, like the way Gabe’s hand found the small of Lori’s back, or the way her eyes tracked Lori’s movements made it impossible to miss how far gone Gabe was.
It’d only been a few weeks since they’d gotten together, but they already had that quality Solo recognized from her own early days with Janie, that sense of two people learning to orbit each other, still tentative but pulled in by something undeniable.
Her chest tightened, and once again, she glanced at the exit, rethinking her decision to be here.
“You okay?” RB asked.
Solo hadn’t noticed her approach. RB had a way of moving through spaces like she was a ghost. It’d been a useful skill in the Army, but now it was just freaky. “Yeah, just...” She motioned vaguely at the chaos around them. “I’m taking it in.”
RB studied her for a moment with those serious dark eyes that always seemed to see more than Solo wanted to show.
“You don’t have to stay if you’re not feeling it,” RB said. “No one would blame you.”
“No, I want to be here,” Solo said, realizing it was probably true.
She’d been drowning for a few weeks now, in the triplets’ needs, in her own spiraling thoughts about Janie, in the crushing weight of running the garage while her personal life imploded.
Being here, surrounded by her people, doing something completely unrelated to any of her problems was like coming up for air.
“Good,” RB said, “because we need all the help we can get.”
Movement near the entrance caught Solo’s attention.
A tall woman with close-cropped hair and hollowed-out eyes stood just inside the doorway, scanning the crowd with the kind of wariness Solo recognized.
That same skill had been drilled into her by the Army, to assess exits and threats before advancing into any space.
RB followed her gaze, and her expression shifted into something softer. “I’ll be right back,” she said, already moving toward the woman.
Solo watched as RB approached carefully, not crowding the woman’s space, speaking in a low voice Solo couldn’t hear.
The woman’s shoulders gradually dropped from around her ears, and after a moment, she nodded.
RB gestured toward the clusters of people organizing into teams, still talking quietly, and the woman’s expression shifted from wary to something like cautious interest.
“That’s Van,” Shay said. “RB’s been working with her at the center for a couple of weeks. Former Marine, discharged six months ago, and she’s been couch-surfing ever since.”
Rosie smiled gently. “RB’s good with her.”
Solo recognized the same tone as Rae used with her. Even though she wasn’t currently a therapist, Rosie couldn’t quite turn it off.
“Patient,” Rosie said, still observing the pair. “Consistent. Doesn’t push.”
Shay circled her arms around Rosie’s waist and pulled her close. “This is why you’re reconsidering your career.”
Rosie turned in Shay’s arms and kissed her. “Again.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere until the first stage of the Unity Tools project is complete. I can’t leave you and your gang in anyone else’s hands just yet.”
Woody chuckled loudly and nudged Shay’s shoulder. “I’d be happy in anyone’s hands.”
Shay shoved Woody away. “That’s because you’re a desperate butthead.”
“No fair.” Woody crossed her arms. “I just want some of this hotness that’s running through our team like a virus.”
Gabe ran her knuckles over Woody’s head. “I thought you were a confirmed bachelor?”
Woody grinned wickedly and looked Rosie up and down. “I am. I want the hotness without the happily ever after crap.”
“Are we playing or talking all night?” Gabe asked.
Solo didn’t miss the glare Gabe shot at Woody before she nodded toward Solo, but she chose to ignore it and continued to watch the exchange between RB and Van.
A pang of something that wasn’t quite envy, but adjacent to it, rippled through her.
RB had found another purpose in this work at the center, helping veterans who’d fallen through the cracks, and it showed in every careful gesture, every moment of attention she gave to people like Van.
Solo had thought her own purpose was raising her girls, but trying not to drown in the sea of shit that was her life right now had overtaken that.
“Earth to Solo!” Woody snapped her fingers in front of Solo’s nose. “Stop brooding and get your head in the game. We’re playing Yen’s team first, and I will not lose to those smug bastards again.”
Gabe grasped Woody’s shoulder. “You know this isn’t a serious competition, right?”
“I know.” Woody shrugged her off. “It’s trash talk. It’s part of the game.”
Despite everything, Solo laughed. The easy banter, the ridiculousness of Woody’s competitive streak, and the normalcy of it all was what she’d needed. “All right,” she said, rolling her shoulders and forcing herself into the moment. “Let’s do this.”
RB rejoined them, and the game started with the usual chaos as Woody tried to organize them into a 6-2 system. Yen’s team served first, a respectable attempt Gabe bumped with casual precision, making it look effortless. Shay set the ball, and Woody smashed it into the open court on Yen’s weak side.
Gabe collected the ball to serve, and Solo positioned herself mid-court, still fighting to shake off the heaviness that had settled in her chest since lunch with Janie.
My mother wants custody of the triplets.
The words kept replaying in her mind. Janie had looked so defeated and small in a way that made Solo want to punch something. Preferably Janie’s mother’s face.
“Solo, heads up,” RB shouted.
The ball was coming straight at her. Solo’s body reacted before her brain caught up, and she bumped it high, sending it toward Woody at the net. Woody spiked it hard, and it hit the floor on the other side with a satisfying thwack.
“Yes!” Woody pumped her fist in the air. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
They fell into the rhythm of the game, and some of the tension drained from Solo’s shoulders. This was good. This was normal. This was—
The ball came back over toward her, and Solo moved to receive it, but her foot caught on something, and she stumbled. Shay was beside her instantly, saving the play and sending the ball back over the net with a smooth set.
“You good?” Shay pulled Solo to her feet, concern clear in her expression.
“Yeah, just clumsy.” But it wasn’t clumsiness: it was distraction. Her body was here, but her mind was still at the garage with Janie, watching her explain how her parents were threatening everything they’d built.
The game continued, with points traded back and forth.
Lori and Rosie cheered enthusiastically from the sidelines, and Solo noticed how Shay constantly looked at her, somehow managing to keep her head in the game at the same time, and how Rosie blew kisses that made Shay grin like a teenager.
They were so new, so wrapped up in each other.
As were Gabe and Lori, who exchanged little glances during plays, communicating in that wordless way new couples had before life got complicated and communication required actual words and effort and—
Solo’s serve went long, sailing past the back line. “Damn it,” she muttered.
“It’s okay,” RB shouted. “Shake it off.”