Blocked (4 page)

A shrill whistle launched me on a crusade to reach the ten-foot line first. My fingertips grazed the line, then I shot back to the baseline and reached down to touch the gym floor. I spun around and sprinted to the centerline, lunged to touch it under the net, then returned to baseline. I set off for the ten-foot line on the other side of the net, tilting my body forward to shimmy under the net before touching the gym floor. Next was the far baseline—the longest sprint yet.

Sharp gasps for air filled my consciousness as the suicide drill continued.
Suicides
…what an appropriate name for this inane fitness sprint. My racing heart and burning chest would surely give me a heart attack one of these days. But when I realized I was ahead of my teammates, I felt a zing of energy propel me forward. Phil was right. Because the previous starting setter graduated a few months ago, I was now the leader of this team.

Josh was a little behind me, and as I passed him on the start of my second suicide, I managed, “Let’s go!”

He was too winded to respond but grinned at me the next time we passed each other. Though my lungs were on fire, I bore down and refused to let Josh or Pete catch up.

Jason was freaking merciless today, and I think I was on my seventh suicide when his whistle finally blew. My chest heaving, sweat splashed from my forehead onto the gym floor as I bent over and sucked in air. The trickle of perspiration had morphed into a downpour—now I’d have to wipe the floor down to prevent an ankle injury.

I heard a female voice say “Gross,” and I looked up to find Nina wearing a look of disgust as she stared at me from across the gym. I could see her teammates hanging out on the bleachers. When the hell had the girls’ team arrived? My gaze landed on the girl at the far end of one row, whose face turned away from me.

I know you saw me look at you, Lucia
. The wall seemed to fascinate her.

Phil walked up to Coach Holter and his assistants—there must’ve been some screw-up with scheduling the temporary gym for our practices—and I looked back at Lucia, who still avoided my eyes. Besides Nina, she was about the tallest girl on the team, and her height combined with her fidgeting drew my attention. Had she seen me beat all my teammates on the suicides? Did she know I was the fastest on the team?

Wait a minute
. Why did I give a flying fuck what Hitler’s spawn thought about me?

“Grab some water,” Jason told us as the dialogue between the head coaches seemed to heat up. Well, actually only one side intensified, I noticed as I headed toward my water bottle. Coach Holter appeared tense, but Phil maintained his relaxed stance. Nothing could ruffle my cool coach.

Jason patted my shoulder as I passed him. “Good job, GD.”

“Thanks.” The cool water slid down my hot throat. I felt Lucia looking at me as I grabbed a towel and wiped my forehead, and I tried to stand a little taller. For some reason, I liked her staring at me.

Chapter 3

S
WEAT
P
OURED
O
FF
D
ANE
in a steady stream, but he didn’t even look like he was breathing hard.
I
started sweating just watching him. His muscular forearm glistened as he clutched his water bottle. I couldn’t believe a man that tall could run so fast. I hoped he wouldn’t be around to witness
me
sprinting at practice, because my jiggling butt would probably repulse him.

When Maddie came to sit on my left, I pried my gaze away from Dane and strived for nonchalance. “So, uh, why did the coach call him GD?”

“It’s his nickname,” she answered as she tugged kneepads over her shoes. “Great Dane.”

“Oh.” I lifted my arm overhead and stretched my triceps muscle, simply to have something to do.
Great
was certainly
one
word for him.

A teammate I didn’t know yet chuckled from the other side of Maddie. “Or God
Damn
, as some of us call him. As in
goddamn, he’s fine
.”

Maddie grinned as she tilted her head toward the end of the bleachers. “Better not let Nina hear you say that.”

“Why not?” I asked.

The other teammate shrugged. “Last year—”

“Ladies!” Coach boomed as he stormed away from the men’s coach. “We’re taking over the gym. We’ve got priority here. Madison, get us started on warm-up.”

Maddie ran to the net, and when my teammates followed her, I jogged over too. I snuck a glance at Dane to find him positively murdering me with those eyes.
Oops
. He was mad at me again? How was it
my
fault our practice times got messed up?

A male voice boomed, “Hold it!” and I halted mid-step. I turned to see Dane point at the gym floor in front of me a second before he loped over, clutching his towel. Would he strangle me with it? My eyes darted to Allison at the sideline, but my Secret Service agent didn’t seem to be on alert. I braced myself as he neared, but my fear turned to surprise when he dropped to the floor and wiped it with his towel.

“Close your mouth, Ramirez,” he said as he popped back up and stood inches from me.
How does he smell so yummy despite his soaked shirt?
It was a manly scent, tinged with some sort of aftershave. “I sweat like a cow.” His angular body towered over me.
Not a bovine in sight
.

His eyebrows knitted together as I stared up at him. His eyes were so pretty, so deep. “I didn’t want you to fall and break your ankle,” he continued. “At least not because of me.” His insult barely registered over the blood rushing in my ears. When I continued to stand mute in his presence, his head tilted. “I know you can speak…” One corner of his mouth perked up. “You’re not going to call me
bitch
again, are you?”

When I finally wrestled my gaze from his face, I noticed everyone in the gym watching us. I tried to swallow, but my throat was dry.

“Thanks, Dane,” Maddie said as she gestured for me to join the team for warm-ups. She turned around, jumped to block at one end of the net, shuffled over a few steps, and jumped again. She had an awesome vertical leap, and I watched Nina and the other teammates follow her lead.

I looked back at Dane.
Say something, idiota
. “I don’t know…do you
deserve
to be called bitch again?” I backpedaled toward the net so he wouldn’t get me in trouble with Coach this time.

“I deserve only kindness and affection.” He smirked.

Above one of his mischievous eyes I noticed a scar.
Where’d he get that?
“We’ll see, GD.” I spun around and hustled to join my teammates. My heart pounded and my face flushed before I even took my first jump, and I hoped he didn’t look at my big butt.
Focus, Ramirez
. I couldn’t let him distract me. I had too much to prove.

I panicked when my fingertips barely cleared the top of the net as I jumped. Were my legs shaking so bad that I couldn’t jump anymore? But then I noticed Kara at one end of the net and Brian at the other, lowering the net to women’s height.
Phew
. Once the net was shorter, I lunged for the ceiling as I leaped, then sidestepped over to the next spot on the net. Blocking was my specialty, requiring strong legs and impeccable timing.

My quick breaths and hammering heart somehow soothed me, bringing peace in the midst of this tumultuous transition. So much was happening right as Dad ran for president, and I had to endure it all under the hateful gaze of his opponent’s son. But no matter how bad the rest of my life became, the gym was my home. Volleyball was my clarity.

When Maddie introduced the next running and shuffling drill, I grinned. My club coach, Susie, used to lead us through the exact same sequence of movements for warm-up—apparently having learned them from Coach Holter. The other freshmen fumbled with the intricate footwork, but I skated through. When I looked up to see if Coach had noticed my smooth moves, I saw Dane watching me from across the gym. His arms laced across his chest as he studied me with an appraising eye…

And then I was on the floor. What the hell? Apparently I’d just tripped over my feet.
Real smooth, estúpida
. I peeked up to see Dane duck through a door off the gym, and flames of mortification licked at my face.

“Anything hurt?” Kara had kneeled beside me before I could peel myself off the floor, and our athletic trainer, Tina, headed over.

Just my ego
. “I’m fine.” I jogged to the basket of volleyballs and grabbed one for the serving drill. I hoped my coordination would improve for the jump serve.

Three hours later, we were in the weight room, and my arms shook violently as I strained to raise the bar off my chest.

“Only three more, Lucia,” fellow freshman Kaitlyn said from above as she spotted me on the bench press. Three more?
Kill me now
. I squeezed my eyes shut as I somehow lifted the bar twice more, then a tsunami of trembles ripped through my arms on the last rep. I would’ve never made that last one if Kaitlyn hadn’t helped me guide the bar back to its home.
Thank God for spotters
.

As I wiped my sweat off the bench with a towel, Kaitlyn slid my weights off the bar, and we traded places. “One-forty-five,” Brian said, nodding at the twenty-five pound plates Kaitlyn had removed. “Nice.”

“Thanks.” But I didn’t feel proud. The way I see it, if you’re as big as I am, you’d
better
lift the most on the team.

Finally I made it to my hotel room, happily showered and fed, and sprawled on my bed. It wasn’t a good sign that I already ached from practice, because I knew muscle soreness wouldn’t peak until tomorrow. Frank and Allison had joined another agent in scoping out apartments for me, and I relished some time alone. I’d just opened my laptop when Lady Gaga sang “Alejandro” from my cell phone—my older brother’s ring tone.

“Hey, Alex.” My wet hair fanned out as I sank back into the assortment of fluffy pillows.

“
Hermanita
.” His deep, warm voice made me smile. “How’s my lil’ sis?”

“Tired. Our first practice was almost four hours long.”

He hissed in a breath. “Ouch. And you have another one this afternoon?”

I groaned. “Don’t remind me. Susie’s practices seem
easy
by comparison. I think I’ll send her some hate texts for recommending this program.”

“So your new coach is as tough as advertised?”

“Worse, I think.” Coach Holter’s cruel comment came back to me, and I seized the opportunity to share it with someone who would understand exactly how insulting it was. “He…he asked me if I came to Highbanks just because it was in a swing state.”

“He said
what?”
My brother wasn’t known for his anger-management skills. “What a bastard.”

“So he’s dead wrong, right? Dad didn’t want me to attend Highbanks just to get votes.”

Alejandro exhaled. “Lucia, get a grip. Mom didn’t want you to go to school so far away from Texas, and Dad didn’t want you to have to deal with all the media crap. But Susie convinced them Highbanks would be your best chance to make the national team one day. If your coach needs someone to blame for your last-minute decision, it’s your club coach, not Dad.”

I sighed. I already knew that was true, but it helped to hear him say it.
Screw
you
, Coach Holter. You don’t know me. You don’t know my family.

“Besides,” he continued, “Dad doesn’t need extra votes. He’ll win this thing no problem.”

I wished
I
felt as confident. “How’s Mom?”

He was quiet for a moment.

“You flew back to Houston with her and Mateo, right? And you’re still there?”