Beach Volleyball - Part 6
The first serve was not a fluke.
After Team Monster Hunter’s power hitter left Nuchi and Ben open mouthed with that first service ace, he proceeded to score another 3. Finally, on his fifth attempt, the cannonball of a serve came down out of bounds. Nuchi didn’t let the 4-1 start get him down. He’d played against incredible servers before and was sure that he and Ben would get the hang of receiving this guy’s too. In high school, only a year before, Ben and Nuchi competed game to game for who would start as their team’s Libero - a strictly defensive position typically filled by the team’s best receiver. Between the two of them, they’d manage.
Ben tossed him the ball and Nuchi prepared to get a few points back with his serves. Nuchi glanced over at Chelsea. She was laughing at something Kiki had said. Her smile melted him. The way her eyes danced when she laughed left him feeling weak. When she began laughing harder, tossing her hair back like some kind of goddess-model hybrid, Nuchi felt a stirring in his pants.
“Bro,” Ben harsh-whispered with some annoyance. “Serve.”
Nuchi shook himself, pulling his gaze from Chelsea with no small effort. He assessed the defense, and then tossed the ball into the air. Hoping she was watching, Nuchi executed a perfect, powerful jump serve. To his astonishment, the huge guy jumped before the ball even crossed the net, slamming it right back down on the Pocket Passer’s side. He’d hit it so hard the ball didn’t even bounce when it hit the sand. It just sank a few inches down like a meteor descended from the heavens.
The official seated on her raised chair motioned with one hand to indicate a point for the Pocket Passers.
“What?” the huge guy said, turning to his teammate for an explanation, arms held out in indignation. “How is that a point for them?”
“You can’t block a serve,” the referee informed him from on high. “It’s a penalty resulting in a point for the opposing team.”
“She’s right,” the pretty man confirmed. “Even if that was more of a spike than a block…”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Penalty stands,” called the referee like a judge issuing a formal decree.
Sourly, the big guy rolled the ball back under the net. It rolled to a stop at Nuchi’s feet and he just stared at it, lost, as he tried to understand how - despite scoring the point - he felt even more intimidated. The guy just read, timed, jumped, and spiked one of Nuchi’s most powerful serves to date. This guy was a monster. How could he possibly play like this yet not know the rules of the game?
Come on, Nuchi. Today is your day.
***
Peter was still smiling to himself when the Pocket Passer’s sent another serve over the net. Greg had smashed that first one. Peter had never seen anything like it. Not that he would, with the majority of his volleyball experience coming from his time with the HoA ladies. Still, their opponents looked completely rattled already. Peter felt good about their chances.
What seemed like a very short time later, Greg surprised Peter by calling a timeout. They were up 11-2 in the first set. Frowning with confusion, Peter cocked his head as Greg approached, leaning in close and speaking in a low voice.
“Let’s let ‘em get a few,” he said, looking guilty.
“This is a competition, Greg. If we were playing against little kids in a pickup game or something, I would totally agree. Beating the tar out of our second round opponents will help with any mind games I may need to play in the third round. Light them up, big guy. No mercy.”
Greg scrunched up his lips, brows knitting together. “I know observing other people isn’t exactly your strong suit, so I’ll just tell you. See that girl? On the bench, the brunette.”
Peter looked. “Yeah, I see her.”
“Well the chubby boy on the other team has been glancing over at her constantly. Anyone with an eye could see he’s been trying to impress her. I just don’t want to embarrass him in front of his crush.”
Peter blinked rapidly for several seconds as he took in what Greg had just said. Even if Peter had noticed and put the pieces together, he wouldn’t just let their opponents score out of pity. The fact that Greg would and even went as far as asking Peter to let them score was a shocker that took Peter a minute to wrap his mind around.
“Why are you just blinking at me?”
“Greg,” Peter said, one hand over his mouth flamboyantly. “You do have a heart.”
“Fuck off, Peter. You wouldn’t know what it’s like to have to try to impress a girl. Just let him get a few points. Make him look cool or whatever. Then we’ll pummel them.”
Peter laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Alright. More often than not, chubby boy goes for line shots when he’s spiking. Just angle your blocks toward the middle of the net and he’ll get one past you without it looking like you gave it to him.”
Greg nodded his understanding. The whistle blew, play resumed, and Peter Mayhew got to know Greg Van gods damned Helsing just a little bit better. The violent and cantankerous man was a big softy deep down. Really deep down.