"Nice swing, Mike." "Forget the hit, that set had no spin on it. It was awesome" I walked into the gymnasium to see our captain Mike, follow the ball he just hit as it rolled toward the door where I stood. I often made the effort to come to volleyball practice a few minutes early to warm up, and today was no exception. I looked around what I thought was the relatively empty court to find someone taking sips of water off to the side. Andrew York had short blond hair and piercing blue eyes. His smooth face was well defined and his pink lips were as plump as ripe fruit. True to how I remembered him from the year before, he stood a few inches taller than me and his body was picturesque to say the least. A year older, Andrew was a senior at school, commanding all of the respect the older students were often given, and then some. He was remarkably popular throughout the school, inevitably as Athletic Council president and an honour roll student. He was simply incredible. Mike walked back onto the court as Andrew took his position closer to the net. Being tossed the ball, Andrew set. His strong arms commanding it into the air with complete ease, his presence took dominance over the court. I watched being completely overcome with awe, until Mike spoke. "Hey Con, have you met Andrew?" He asked. I smiled to acknowledge him and blushed without saying a word. Throughout high school I appreciated Andrew for his beauty as much as his volleyball skills, both of which were legendary. "Now that he's back, he's our starting setter". I hadn't realized that Andrew was absent from the team for the past week, considering the new relationship with my other athletic object of desire had taken a surprising turn toward reality. "Back from where?" I asked with newfound confidence. The thought of Eric made me more assertive and less the bashful admirer I once was. "I took some time looking at schools on the West Coast." Andrew answered. "Yeah, this guy has been fighting off the scouts with a stick." Mike enthusiastically pointed out, with much the same savvy as an auctioneer. "Not exactly, but I've been considering a few offers" Andrew said modestly. "It's Connor, right?" "Yeah" I confirmed. "Well I glad you're playing senior this year. We haven't had someone with your skills at weak-side, for ages it seems." Once the practice began and Andrew was reintroduced to the team, Coach Armstrong proposed the idea of simulating a real game situation by dividing up the players. Andrew was chosen as a captain for one side, while Coach Armstrong decided to choose the other team himself. Given first choice, Andrew took a few moments to contemplate and review the players. Mike, the team captain, was the most obvious choice as Andrew stared down deeply at him. Lowering himself onto the balls of his feet and supporting his elbows with his knees, they closely faced one another. "Connor" Andrew said. Creating a stir among the players, especially with his teasing of Mike, Andrew picked me to my disbelief over the returning senior players. After chuckling loudly over Andrew's little game, Coach Armstrong picked Mike, and the process continued until the last player found a place on either side of the court. From the first play, Andrew began to set the ball often to me. His knowledge of the court and exactly where the players were positioned made his play effortless. Without so much as mentioning it Andrew knew how to set the ball to where I needed it, establishing an instantaneous dynamic between us. I attacked the ball quicker and harder than I ever thought possible, and as the practice progressed we all were increasingly wound up with my work on the court, all except Andrew who remained calm after every play. Oddly enough, he smacked my rear a few times in between rotations, well after the reactions subsided. A few minutes before we were scheduled to end the practice, Andrew leaned in and whispered in my ear. "Once the ball is passed to me, just start your approach for a quick shoot" "Wait, shoots are way too fast and low to the net and I've never even tried one" I said reluctantly. Before I was able to continue with my protest, Andrew got his hands on the ball and I approached the spike with a jump towards the net. The set sped across the top of the net and right into my hand as I swung. The ball hit the floor almost instantaneously in front of Mike, who stood there shielding himself from the oncoming ball. There came a cheer sounding loudly throughout the gym. Coach Armstrong blew his whistle, signaling for the practice to finish. I motioned to Andrew. "That set was amazing. In fact, all of your sets have just been perfect for me." I said. "See Con, just trust me. I know exactly what you need." He replied, tousling my hair and slapping my rear before walking away toward the locker rooms. * * * Friday morning I gathered my gym bag and began to throw in some of my volleyball things. My trainers, knee pads and ankle brace were already packed when I collected my uniform from the dryer before entering the kitchen. Knowing that I could possibly have a long day ahead, I packed a lunch with some sandwiches, fruit, granola bars and enough water for a week-long trek through the Brazilian Amazon, much less a volleyball tournament. Before long, I heard the door bell ring and brought my things when I went to answer it. Standing there was Eric in all his glory. Wearing a Mayfield sweatshirt over his uniform, his long legs were exposed by a pair of running shorts. "Mr. Webb, are you trying to seduce me?" I asked. "Well is it working? I dolled myself up for a special lady." He said, before kissing my cheek and nuzzling his face in the nape of my neck. He closed the door behind him and waited as I tied my shoes and closed the last zippers on my bag. Eric took the bag from my hands and swung it over one of his strong shoulders. Leaving one hand free of use, this allowed him to pull me into an embrace. Eric teased me, lightly licking my top lip a few times until finally our mouths met. I sank into his arms, enveloping myself entirely in his strength. He led me up against a wall, my hands working their way up his sweatshirt stroking his back. Our passion began to intensify when we heard the beeping of Eric's watch, indicating the turn of the eighth hour. I began to laugh at our inability to control ourselves and slightly sank downward along the wall. I caught a few breaths of air as I rested my forehead on his chest, running my hands along the back of his thighs. The night before, Eric insisted on driving me to the volleyball tournament before his morning race. I modestly tried to refuse to save him the trouble, but the truth was I wanted to see him. He was able to see clearly through my façade without any effort whatsoever, and considering our morning greeting, I was glad he could. We drove to the neighboring school holding the tournament, and along the way I couldn't stop my hand from riding up the side of Eric's little shorts. "Well Mr. Webb, I was not aware that we were going camping this morning, because it's obvious that you've already started pitching a tent" I said. Eric could only laugh bashfully before drawing me closer to him, resting my body to his side with his arm over my shoulders. Considering the park where Eric would be running his race was not far from the tournament, I thought it best to stop myself especially when his shorts already left little to the imagination. He soon parked the car beside one of the school's more discrete side entrances. "My little man is looking quite the athlete this morning. Well, you sure know how to make me work up a sweat!" Eric said. He kissed my hand and rubbing it between his. "Good luck today" I said. "You've worked so hard for this, and that medal is yours to take. Just go show everyone what you can do." Eric smiled and looked deeply into my eyes. "I've always known you to be remarkable, long before we were together. You're an amazing player, and I may be a bit biased, but you're the best one on the team. Just remember that you play volleyball because you love it, which is precisely the reason why you're so great. Get on that court and show them a few things!" We kissed for a few moments before I had to leave. After gathering my things I began to get out of the car. Eric grabbed my waist and gave me a kiss my left shoulder and another on my neck. I smiled at him after getting out of the car, and walked into the school. * * * "Ok guys, this last game can go pretty much either way. The other team has serve, and we just need this last point to win. This is going to be intense, so let's just slow this play down and show some control. We have this!" With those words from Coach Armstrong, the referee blew the whistle. The server from the other team threw the ball and hit it in the air. It came over the net onto our side with great speed. Mike planted his feet, easing the force of the ball as he passed it to Andrew. Facing away from me, he called "Back!" and set the ball in my direction. I approached the net, using my arms to garner momentum when I jumped. I swung my arm, snapping my wrist when I felt the ball on my hand. The next thing I remembered was hearing the referee blow his whistle twice with long breaths. I won the game. I stood there, not exactly sure of what just happened, when I saw Andrew turn around and throw his arms over me. The rest of our team on the court and bench surrounded me cheering, but I could only feel Andrew pulling me in closer and grinding himself into me before raising me over his strong shoulders. After much of the excitement had subsided and our team was given medals, we were announced as tournament champions. The moment was thrilling, but it seemed to be lacking something. I soon realized that it wasn't something as much as it was someone- Eric. I wanted to share my entire life with this boy, and this moment stood out considering it was pretty lively. The team shared a few laughs and replays while we gathered our things. My hitting throughout the day was of particular interest to the team, as I was often given congratulatory pats on the back. The dynamic that Andrew and I shared on the court over the last few practices translated well for the tournament, and I realized this after it was pointed out by the coach. "Good work boys. I'll remember to keep you two together on court from now on." With that, he wished the team a good weekend, and left the gym on his way home. "Have a ride, Connor?" Andrew asked. "Yeah, I'll call my parents." "No need, I'll give you a ride" He said. Andrew and I spent some time stretching out after the tiring day, and once our bodies began to feel some relief, we headed for his car. At this point, all the players had left, and the parking lot was left abandoned. I followed Andrew to his jeep and he unlocked the back door to let me throw my things in. I proceeded to move toward the front passenger door, but Andrew was blocking it, seemingly without any intention of moving. "You know, you're a great player" He said. "You're not so bad yourself" I replied. "Well, let's see if I can show you a few things" "What do you mean?" "Um, I feel like celebrating. Interested in attending a party of two?" he asked, harshly pulling me toward him and putting his lips on mine. I was in a state of utter disbelief. "Stop it!" was all I could verbalize trying to push him away. Andrew took no notice and continued with his advances. He was rubbing my waist and thighs with his hands, and I could not overpower him. Suddenly, I felt him being pulled away. Eric appeared as I opened my eyes, and I saw him grab a hold of Andrew by the arm. "Hey, get off of him!" I heard him say, before hitting him in the cheek. Andrew fell to the ground, laying there in time for Eric to grab my things from the back of the jeep and lead me away with his arm around my shoulders. I was safe.
"Are you ok?" Eric asked. "Now that you're here" "I'm just glad that I could help" "And that you did!" Once in Eric's car, we heard the sound of Andrew's jeep "squeal" out of the parking lot. The thought of what had happened made me shudder as the sound served as a grim reminder. I looked up at Eric with frail eyes. Wiping my tears with his thumbs and holding my face in his hands, he kissed my forehead as a gesture of support. Clearing my vision, I looked at Eric with eyes of love and appreciation. I then took notice of medal hanging around his neck. I held it, reading the inscription: Senior boys Cross Country Champion, Pine Hills Invitational. I looked up at him and smiled, wrapping my arms around him. Indeed, Eric was my champion.