big boy. First to fifteen points wins," Jenny said.
We hit the ball back and forth for a while to warm up; then the boys graciously let us start. Unfortunately, Jenny smacked the ball directly into the net on her first serve. "That was a practice! The game hasn't started," she said. She recovered the ball and sent it flying through the air. It came down fast- and all three guys watched as it landed right in the middle of them.
"I thought you had it!" Dean said, slapping Tony in the chest.
"Don't look at me! You should have backed up and got it!" he yelled.
Meanwhile, on our side of the court, we were cheering like we just won the state championship. When Jenny had the ball back, she yelled, "All right, boys, it's one to nothing." She did the same high-in-the-air shot. This time, Dean dove underneath it, just in time to bump it high enough for Matt to spike it over the net. None of us girls had a chance to react. We regretfully rolled the ball under the net back to the boys.
"Zero serving one," Matt said. He did an overhand serve, just inching over the net, but allowing the ball to drop right down into the sand before any of us even realized it was going to make it. We were no longer cheering.
That was basically how the next eleven points went. Sometimes we got it back over the net, but they managed to react quickly. There was a lot of high-fiving on the other side of the net, though, and that made me smile.
"Twelve serving one," Matt said. He sent the ball gracefully over the net, and Jenny bumped it up. I hit it, and sent it sailing over the net. Matt, then Tony, then Dean did a perfect bump-set-spike, but I was ready. I jumped at just the right time and slammed my fist against the ball as hard as I could. Dean and I both fell backward onto our asses, and I couldn't see anything but the sky above. From the sounds of the high-pitched cheering behind me, though, I knew what side of the net the ball had landed on.
Dean was over me in a moment, his big hand reaching down to help me up. I smiled as I grabbed it and he lifted me effortlessly to my feet. I looked into his eyes as we smiled at each other. Then, he swatted at my ass. "Good game, buddy," he said, and everyone laughed. I laughed too, then grabbed the ball and got in position for my own serve.
"One serving twelve," I said. I used to love volleyball in high school, and I'm sure I surprised them a little when I did an overhand serve myself, aimed squarely at Matt. With no time to react, he hit the ball up in the air and way out of bounds. The game was back on!
"Two serving twelve," I said when I had the ball back. I did the same serve, but this time Matt was ready. He bumped it, and Tony spiked it. Dean followed up with three serves that we weren't able to return, and the game was over.
"Who wants to go up against Kim and me?" Tony yelled.
"I do," Dean said. I stood up and got on the court. "Whoa, whoa, where are you going, Rachel? I want Matt to be my partner."
I laughed and kicked sand at him, and he charged me. I shrieked as he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. He ran around, whooping like an idiot. When he set me down, he gave me a big kiss in front of everyone. "Guys, I've made a mistake. I want Rachel to be on my team. You guys can be shirts, we'll be skins."
I laughed again. I loved to see him having fun with everyone. I ran over to his shirt and buried it in the sand, then pulled it back out, making sure it was completely coated with the uncomfortable grit. "I think we should be shirts, come put it on," I said, sticking my tongue out. Matt was laughing so hard that I thought he'd fall off his lawn chair.
Dean shrugged. "I'll just take yours," he said. He ran over to where my tank-top was and threw it over his head. He didn't even try to get it over that massive chest of his, instead just putting his head through the top hole and letting it hang down around his neck. It only went halfway down his muscled torso.
"I'm ready now," he said.