Season Four
Brooklyn Noelle Brankovich

Chapter Thirty-one: "Playing hard ball"

"- right?" Mother spoke over the phone.

I walked through the parking lot as I continued the conversation.
As I neared the grocery store, I laid eyes on a group of six women in athletic uniforms.

"Hi! Donate to our program?" One girl said with cheer as she waved a poster in my face.

"Hold on, Mom," I said and hung up with no intentions of calling her back later. "What's the cause?"

The thin brunette who wore the number six stood before the others and talked to me. "We're a local adult volleyball team - The Sun City Sharks!"The rest of the girls roared with excitement, making me laugh. They seemed awfully happy and in love with their program.

"Volleyball?" I asked upon reading the sign.

Number six nodded her head. "You play?"

"I used to, back in college - Baylor."

"Get out! My little sister is transferring there. Do you still play?" Number twenty-six questioned me.

"No, not since college. I miss it, though."

"Come play with us!" Six suggested and the girls all agreed. "Here, I'll give you the address to the gym. We play tournaments every Sunday, all day; it's very competitive - not for entry-level players. Practices are Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays from noon to two-thirty." The girl looked down at me and handed over a paper with all their information about the costs, coaches, and schedule.

It sounded appealing but I wasn't sure yet. "I don't know, I'm twenty-two. Isn't this usually a, like-"

"I'm twenty-six," Number six said.

Number twenty-six spoke up. "I'm twenty."

"Twenty-four," the shortest player confessed.

"Turning thirty," another player said with pride. She didn't even look her age.

"Oh. Well, then, yeah... I'll think about it!" I assured them, my normally fruity voice going up an octave.

"See you!" Six piped, waving as I trailed off.

"Bye." I waved at them all and entered the store.

As I filled my cart, I wandered down aisles I had no business being in. My eyes scanned the shelves and located white ACE sports tape. I smiled remembering all the jammed fingers I got from not taping in high school while playing volleyball.

After debating whether or not to get it, I pushed two boxes in the cart and whistled out of the aisle.

Once I paid, I left the Wal-Mart and drove out of the parking lot only to see a DICK's Sporting Goods across the street in another plaza. Everything in me told me not to stop, but I just had to.

I'm only looking, I mentally told myself as I stepped through the automatic doors.

"Hi, welcome to DICK'S," a blonde employee told me with a smile. "Can I help you with something today?" I stammered trying to answer, concerned by how quick and enthusiastic she was. Most places let you look around a little before asking, so it caught me off guard that she was so on it.

I stepped towards her by the golf clubs and read her name tag. "Hi, Kennedy. I'm looking for knee pads."

"Volleyball?" She said after looking me over.

"A-huh," I sounded.

"They're right over here!" Kennedy led the way to the section where I found a pair of Adidas Elite knee pads.

"Thanks, Kennedy. Spandex?"

She smiled and started walking. "Is it your first time playing?"

"No. Well, it's been a while," I talked.

Kennedy pursed her lips as she searched for the athletic shorts. "Ah! Here you go," she said, handing over a pair of black Adidas (my preferred brand) techfit shorts in a medium but I opted for a large and bought quite a few for practice, as well.

"Shoes?" she asked, reading my mind. With a warm smile, I just nodded and trailed behind Kennedy as she took us to the back of the store. The floor was painted like a track with lane numbers 1-3 and all the standard markings like the start and finish line.

"I think you'll like these, most collegiate players do." Kennedy presented me with a shoe off the display - the cloudy white Adidas crazyflight bounce 3's. I rotated the shoe in my hand to get an up close look.

"Can I try it on?" I asked her. "Size nine." Kennedy remembered the size and walked to the back to grab a box. As I waited, I picked a pack of six pairs of all white Adidas socks to match.

When Kennedy returned, I was sitting on a bench in nothing by my ankle socks. She took the liberty of removing the paper out of the sneakers and undoing the laces.

I slipped my foot in and melted. "Ah, that's good! They feel great." I stood and walked some, making sure they weren't tight or loose on my foot. They were a perfect fit and so comfortable.

"I'll take them!" I exclaimed, happy with the items I accumulated.

"Perfect, I'll take these to the front and ring it up," Kennedy offered, kindly taking the gear from my hands and placing it at the register.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

I gasped at the unexpected sound at my door. Sucking my teeth, I paused packing my gym bag to answer it. Peeking through the hole, I saw it was Noah. I opened the door and waited for him to speak first.

"Hey, girl," he said the usual line, making me smile.

"Hey, boy," I returned, shutting the door after he stepped inside. I turned to returned to my bedroom so I could finish my packing.
Noah walked in my bedroom and stood by the door, witnessing me rush before my twelve PM practice.

"Fill this up for me?" I asked, tossing an empty Gatorade reusable bottle at him.

He spun from my door to go to the kitchen and do as I asked. Once he came back, I thanked him and stuffed the full bottle in the cupholder of my athletic backpack.

Noah just stood there as I bent over to finger-comb my hair into a high ponytail. "Going to the gym?" he wondered aloud, sitting down on my freshly made bed.

I tried speaking with the hair tie in my mouth. "Yes. Guess what? I'm joining a volleyball team!"

"I want to see you play," he talked, rolling the ball I also bought to practice with on the bed. He then started to set it and I appreciated how good he was.

"You can," I beamed, "I have some games!" Noah started smiling, probably thinking I was way too excited. "Are you laughing at me?" I whined, pushing his body over.

"No. I'm excited to see you, we'll all be there - me, Gael, and Cassie - cheering you on. So you better not suck."

I laughed lightly. "Speaking of Gael, how is he? I passed him in the hall the other day and he had this, like, bruise on his face."

"Oh," Noah swallowed and adjusted his tone to be more serious, "he, uh, fell off his motorcycle. Why didn't you ask him yourself?"

"I was in a rush. Better wear a helmet next time," I shrugged.

"Okay." I sighed once my hair was done and I thought everything was in my bag: finger tape, knee pads, shoes, bottle, towel. Check, check, check, check, check, and check! "I'm ready."

I slipped my feet into the slides and grabbed my phone and keys off the tv stand before pushing Noah out of my bedroom and killing the lights.

"There was something I had to talk to you about," he said at the last minute.

After locking my door, I slapped my empty palm on my thighs with attitude. "You would wait until I'm trying to leave to say that. What?" The corners of his lips pulled down and he shook his head, probably having changed his mind. Must not have been that serious.

"K, well I have to go. See ya, boy!" I beamed, pounding his fist before striding towards the elevator.

He chuckled. "Good luck, girl."

***

Having put the address from the flyer in my GPS, I arrived on time at the gym.

I walked inside after a deep breath and saw the several courts all full of nets and loose balls.

There were a handful of groups, all different sizes and backgrounds. I stood and watched in awe at people from pre-teens to adults my age or a little older (thirty being the oldest) practicing.
My whole face lit up. Oh how I missed it.

"Can I help you?" asked a little lady with bumped red hair. She wore a white shirt that promoted the Sun City Sharks, and carried around a clipboard.

"I hoped you'd make it!" A voice shouted. A tall girl ran over and I saw that it was Number Six from Wal-mart the other day.

"Hi!" I exclaimed, shaking her hand. "I'm Brooklyn."

"Kacey, team captain of twenty-u," she let me know. Twenty-U meant the team of twenty-year-olds and up.

"Cheryl, this is our new member. Can you get her signed up and everything else she needs, then send her to court two? Thanks!" Kacey grinned at me then ran to join her team. I watched as she pointed to me, having them all get a good look. I waved with a friendly smile until Cheryl stole my attention.

"Sign here, and we accept checks," she said.

Once I paid in full for the season, I waited by the bleachers to be presented with two short-sleeved jerseys; one white, the other lava grey. Instantly I fell in love and couldn't wait to wear them!

I thanked Cheryl and made my way to court two where my team would be practicing. On my way there, I couldn't help but watch the younger team do hitting drills. The teens looked pretty disciplined but they also had a lot of fun, lighting up the gym with their obnoxious cheers at every good play.

"Brooklyn, over here," Kacey called out, "We're about to start!" I hustled over and dropped my bag so I could change into my knee pads and shoes.

I rolled my ankle and then pulled on my knee pads, stopping them right below my actual knee cap.

As I laced up my new shoes, Kacey got everyone to focus on me. "This is Brooklyn," she spoke, "from Baylor University. What position did you play?"

My eyelashes flickered. "Outside hitter" I announced. Really, I could do it all but I preferred right side hitter and/or middle blocker.

"Okay," Kacey tested, sounding amused. "We'll see how good you are. Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," I responded with a breathy laugh. I dusted my butt and tucked my shirt in.

"Why are your pads so low?" Number twenty-six - named Rita - asked, stirring confusion in the other girls as well. I looked down at mine then observed their dated methods.

"Oh. When you dive, you notice you don't really fall on your knees, it's more so the upper shin/lower knee. Plus, it gives you more room to move than if they're all the way up," I informed them on a tip I got playing NCAA ball. Kacey looked at me awfully impressed and had all the girls follow suit. She walked over to me and nodded before rushing us all to the court to stretch.

Before our serve-receive drill, I thought to tape my fingers before I forgot. While the girls got water, I dug through my bag for the tape I packed.

As I covered my middle finger, my iPhone rang. I slouched, hesitating to see who was calling. To no surprise, it was Will probably trying to get me back. Like I did every time he contacted me since the break-up, I ignored it and finished what I was doing.

I'd impressed my girls with my jump serve since the other girls were still jump-floating or simply overhanding at the line.

Then, we did some hitting drills, working on our approach to kill the ball (spike.)

"How do you like it?" asked the setter, named Sydney, at the net. She wondered if there was any particular way I preferred the ball to be set; high or low, fast or slow.

I stood at the front of the far right line, planting my feet. My shoulders hunched. "Doesn't matter."

Sydney made a face like she had something up her sleeve and made sure I was ready. After I assured her I was, the ball flawlessly left her fingertips. I did the footwork and attacked the ball high, hanging in the air. My palm contacted the ball, making a boom, and then it smacked the floor in the exact spot I wanted it to. I landed under the net and went crazy with the players who cheered me on. Kacey slapped my butt as I ran past her to switch lines.

It's like riding a bike, I thought.

"She's so good," I heard whispers as I used the bottom of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my top lip.

Still wearing a proud grin, I used both hands to tuck the strands of hair behind my ears.

Another girl went after I did and got it off the block. She ran behind me and I high-fived her.

Next, Kacey performed a slide attack, something I excelled at, but she got blocked. She engaged in playful banter with the blocker and then joined me in line.

"Welcome to the family," she whispered to me.