Chapter 67 The Competition
Christian’s Point of View
The day of the competition.
The sharp sound of the whistle cut through the air, and everyone took to their positions.
“Strike!” The school’s coach yelled, and everyone readied themselves as the server came forward with the ball. Xavier was first to hoist the ball.
“Up!”
And then the boy named Shepherd passed, his arms stretched out, almost colliding with the net as he did.
But I was first to get it, I jumped so high, without even giving them a chance, I spiked hard, and the ball kissed the floor of my opponent’s court.
“Point!” The coach yelled, and the members of my team clapped, happy that I scored the first point.
My eyes met the amber eyes of Lana at the other side of the court; she was making her serve this time, her eyes narrowed with seriousness, her eyes searching through the people there… probably trying to come up with some strategic move.
But the moment her eyes met mine, I winked at her.
She had a plain expression on her face; it was clear she didn’t mix business with pleasure, but it was thanks to her that I could confidently raise my head in this court today and play.
I blocked the ball and passed.
I played like I owned the fucking court, because I do, and I wanted her to see me play so hard, to play freely, just like the way the game is supposed to go.
I strike again.
The ball kissed the court, and there was another fucking point.
We were leading them by 2 points now, and the other team seemed to notice they were about to be fucked over by me.
My eyes caught the intimidating green eyes of Xavier. He rushed forward with his own spike, and I slid to the floor, my arms stretched out, and dug up the ball enough to make my other teammate save us, but we still lost the point.
2-1
The rest of the game was like a competition just between Xavier and me; the rest of our teammates didn’t even matter to me anymore.
I wasn’t trying to prove a point; I was trying to test it out.
Lana said I was better. I wanted to see if she was right. I wanted to know how much better I am.
I jumped again, my feet gracefully left the floor, and I was lost in the moment, in the realization that I’m not completely useless.
My hair, which was drenched with sweat, blew against my eyes as I struck the ball with all my might, and it slammed hard against the floor of the court.
No one could save it… they didn’t even try because it felt dangerous.
Maybe my father… or my mother… could shut the hell up about Xavier when they watch how badly I humiliate him.
I’m going to win this!
And when I do, I’m not going to need validation from them anymore, because I made it happen.
I spiked, and he missed.
The bar glowed, adding up my point.
Another spike, and he missed.
He hardly blocked any of the ball, as long as I was the one who spiked it. “Point!” This time, it was Lana who made the point.
A smirk tugged at my lips, realizing just how fat she had grown, I remembered the first time she held the ball in her hands, she couldn’t even serve properly.
And we all picked on her on the court, the struggling player who didn’t even have any form, now playing so hard to save her team was admirable.
Her strength was admirable.
She was like a mirror, and through her, I could see my own reflection, clearly, and I was perfect.
Tears welled in my eyes as I played, because I had never felt this satisfied… this fulfilled… or this happy.
Lana’s shoes squeaked against the floor, her knees bent, her arms set, hoisting the ball up, and leaving it for another team member. He made the shot, and I blocked it.
With a smirk, I went for the kill, and she rolled her eyes.
“Point!”
8-3
The game continued even more aggressively, spiking, blocking, and killing, until we were in the last quarter of the game.
I could win this…
If I could block this attack from Lana, I could win this.
“You’re in a deuce now.” I heard the captain said. “If Team A makes this point, then they win, but if Team B blocks it, then they win.”
It was almost as if time stopped; the server spiked the ball so hard.
“Up!”
Set.
Her feet left the ground, her body stretching upward, every inch of her straining toward that one moment. There was nothing graceful about it—just desperation, raw and burning. Her fingers struck the ball, but it wasn’t clean.
Too much force. Not enough control.
The ball spun off her hand, dipping lower than it should have.
She really wanted this.
No… she needed it.
My eyes tracked the ball as it crossed the net, slow… so slow… like it was waiting for me.
One step forward, and I could end it.
One jump—
And it would be over.
Victory would be mine.
… But she really wanted to win.
She really needed that opportunity; she needed the scholarship.
I can’t control how the other competition turns out, but I know I had total control over this one.
I didn’t even need this dumb game… never needed it to prove to myself better.
Like Lana said.
We are all humans.
And there are some things we are better at than the other person. My body prepared to jump, but I didn’t, and just like that, the ball fell right in front of me.
Bounced against the soles of my feet and then rolled off.
“Point!”
Announcing our loss, and Lana’s win, my eyes met with the amber eyes that were wide with shock, her hands covered her mouth, and she looked at me.
I smiled in response and nodded my head. And there was nothing in this world that was half as beautiful as the way she looked at me.
“Yes!” The victorious yelling from Lana’s team members echoed in the court. They gathered around her.
Hugging and pulling her.
“Hey, what the hell was that dude?” Lucas, our captain, asked curiously as he grabbed the edge of my jersey.
My eyes fell to the point where he grabbed me, and then flickered up at his face.
“I saw it; you could have saved that.”
“Get your filthy hands off me,” I growled at him.
“That bastard really threw us under the bus?” someone asked, and I finally got Lucas’ fingers out of my jersey, and I pushed him away from me.
“You don’t get to fucking touch me.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Lucas asked as he slammed his shoulder into my chest. “Just because you’re Mr. Blackwood’s son doesn’t make you shit.”
“I made most of the points in this game,” I told him sternly. “If you were so focused on winning, then you should have played harder.”
“What?” He grabbed me again, this time by the front of my jersey, and the other guys followed him.
Immediately, I felt my body seize, as some unpleasant memories flooded me.
“Let go of me.” I huffed, my chest tightening, and I felt bile rise to my throat.
“Hey!” I heard Xavier’s voice in the distance, and then he shoved Lucas away from me. “Get the fuck away from him.”
“No fighting in the court.” The coach scolded, walking towards us. I didn’t stop, I clutched my chest tighter, and began walking off.
“Christian,” Xavier came after me, grabbing a hold of me, just before I could get out of the door. “Are you okay?”
I stopped to glare at him, but I noticed there was a flicker of worry in his eyes.
Was Xavier worried for me? Why?
“Are you okay?”He repeated, and I just shoved him off of me.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I growled, before walking off in anger. As I hung along the hallways, I desperately tried to calm my heaving breathing.
My legs slumped, and my knees buckled. I grabbed onto the protective railing so I wouldn’t fall off.
Just then, my phone began to ring.
I managed to get it out of my pocket, and my heart stopped when I noticed it was my mother.
Fuck… I know why she was calling me, but I answered anyway.
“M- “
She didn’t even let me speak.
“You fucking useless dimwit.” She cursed. “You lost even that game? Is there anything you can do?”
“Mom,” I whispered, in shock. I didn’t even know what to say, but she had never been that aggressive to me before.
“You know what? Just come home.” She sneered. “And don’t be late, you have disgraced me enough.”