Will tossed the ball from one hand to the other as he and Scott stood in the sand, still sweating from the final volleys. It was late afternoon. They’d finished up at the garage at three and had raced over to the beach for a scrimmage against a couple of teams from Georgia that were spending the week in the area. They were all preparing for the southeastern tournament later that August, which was going to be held at Wrightsville Beach.
“They haven’t lost yet this year. And they just won the junior nationals,” Will pointed out.
“So? We weren’t there. They beat a bunch of scrubs.”
In Will’s humble opinion, the competition at the junior national tournament weren’t scrubs. In Scott’s world, however, anyone who lost was a scrub.
“They beat us last year.”
“Yes, but last year you were even worse than you are now. I had to carry the entire load.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m just saying. You’re inconsistent. Like yesterday? After that chick from the Lost Boys stormed off? You played the rest of the game like you were blind.”
“She’s not the chick from the Lost Boys. Her name is Ronnie.”
“Whatever. Do you know what your problem is?”
Yes, Scott, please tell me my problem, Will thought. I’m dying to hear what you think. Scott went on, oblivious to Will’s thoughts.
“Your problem is that you’re not focused. One little thing happens, and you’re off in never-never land. Oh, I spilled Elvira’s soda on her, so I’ll miss the next five digs. Oh, Vampira got mad at Ashley, so I better miss the next two serves—”
“Would you stop?” Will interrupted.
Scott seemed confused. “Stop what?”
“Stop calling her names.”
“See! That’s exactly what I’m talking about! I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about you and your lack of focus. Your inability to concentrate on the game.”
“We just won two straight sets, and they only scored seven points total! We crushed them,” Will protested.
“But they shouldn’t have even had five points. We should have shut them out.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. They’re not very good.”
“But we won! Isn’t that enough?”
“Not if you could win by more. We could have broken their spirit, so that when they meet us in the tournament, they’d give up before the game even starts. It’s called psychology.”
“I think it’s called running the score up.”
“Well, that’s just because you’re not thinking straight, or you never would have ended up mashing faces with Cruella de Vil.”
Elvira, Vampira, and now Cruella. At least, Will thought, he wasn’t recycling any material.
“I think you’re jealous,” Will said.
“No. Personally, I think you should go out with Ashley, so I can go out with Cassie.”
“You’re still thinking about that?”
“Hello? Who else would I be thinking about? You should have seen her in her bikini yesterday.”
“So ask her out.”
“She won’t go.” Scott frowned in consternation. “It’s like a package deal or something. I don’t understand it.”
“Maybe she thinks you’re ugly.”
Scott glared at him before forcing out a fake laugh. “Ha-ha! That is so funny. You should really try booking yourself on Letterman.” His glare remained fixed on Will.
“I’m just saying.”
“Well, don’t, okay? And what is it with you and…”
“Ronnie?”
“Yeah. What was that about? Yesterday, you spent your whole day off with her, and then she shows up this morning and you kiss her? Are you, like… serious about her or something?”
Will remained silent.
Scott shook his head as he raised a finger, emphasizing his point. “See, here’s the thing. The last thing you need is to get serious with a girl. You need to concentrate on what’s important. You’ve got a full-time job, you volunteer trying to save the dolphins or whales or turtles or whatever, and you know how much we have to practice to get ready for the tournament. You don’t have enough time as it is!”
Will said nothing, but he could see Scott growing more panicked with every passing second.
“Ah, come on, man! Don’t do this to me. What on earth do you see in her?”
Will said nothing.
“No, no, no,” Scott repeated like a mantra. “I knew this was going to happen. That’s why I told you to go out with Ashley! So you wouldn’t get serious again. You know what’s going to happen. You’re going to turn into a hermit. You’re going to blow off your friends so you can hang out with her. Trust me, the last thing you need is to get serious with…”