I run a hand through the black waves of my hair as I spin the combination into my lock. I click open the door of my locker and yank out my volleyball uniform, a jersey with my number, 42 on it and a pair of mid-thigh length blue shorts. I pull off my hoodie and my regular school uniform, black jeans and a red t-shirt. I change into the uniform and jog out to the field.

"Alright girls, today we're going to be working on serving," Coach Andy announces.

Several girls open their mouths, about to protest.

"Ah ah ah," Coach reprimands. "No complaining. Now get to it!" She claps her hands three times and all the girls, including me, run over to the net.

"And Ryder?" Coach begins. I turn to look at her. "Put your hair up. I don't want to have to tell you again."

I feel a blush spread over my cheeks as I pull a red hairband from my wrist and use it to pull my hair back into a high ponytail.

"Let's get going!" Coach exclaims.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

I walk back into the locker room, followed by the team. We are all slightly sweating and red-faced.

"Ugh," says Merry Roberts. "I hate serving."

All the other girls roll their eyes and nod in agreement. "Coach A is, like, so hard on us if we don't do well," adds Taylor Jensen.

I ignore them and unlock my locker, eager to change back into my hoodie. I change before all of them and hurry out of the locker room.

I grab my backpack from beneath the water fountain next to the door of the room and throw it over my shoulder. I brush some loose hair out of my eyes and begin the walk home.

The walk goes pretty fast, probably because I'm daydreaming, but before I know it I'm at my house. I use my key to unlock the door, and then I walk inside.

"Dad, Noah, I'm home," I call, closing the door behind me.

Suddenly, I spot Noah as he flies at me and almost knocks me over with the force of his hug. I giggle and cough as the air is knocked out of me.

"Hey, bubba!" I exclaim brightly, ruffling his black curls.

He looks up at me and gives me his cute little 4-year-old grin. I smile back and lift him up. He wraps his legs around my waist and laughs.

"Imma monkey!"

I laugh too and carefully set him back down. He takes my hand immediately and attempts to drag me over to the kitchen.

I smile and play along, walking with him until we enter the kitchen and I spot my father there, looking through the fridge.

"Dad, are you eating all the snacks without me?" I ask accusingly.

He turns around guiltily. "You're home already?"

"Yes, Dad, I just got here and got attacked by Noah," I laughed.

He smiled and walked around the table to hug me. "How was school?" he asked, looking down at me.

"Okay for school," I responded, pulling away. "How was your day?"

"It was alright, my love. I got some work done, fixed some problems. Overall a pretty productive day."

I look at him and smile. He seems tired, but happy.

"I'll cook dinner today, Dad," I offer. "You must be tired; you had a long day at work. Let me handle it."

He smiles at me but shakes his head. "I got it, baby. I'm not even tired at all."

I wouldn't have believed him even if he didn't yawn at that moment.

"That meant nothing," he objected.

I smile, playfully rolling my eyes. "Seriously. Please let me cook, Dad. I'll make pancakes," I add temptingly.

He laughs in defeat. "Fine, you got me. Cherri's breakfast for dinner it is."

I grin triumphantly.

One point for Cherri.