I jumped to my feet, speaking a little louder than I needed to. “Ok, I’ll see you out there.”
Mitch laughed. “You’re gonna go out like that? Not that I mind, you’ve got an incredible ass.”
I looked down and realized I’d never put on my skirt, and I’d nearly run out of the locker room in my undies. My eyes closed while my cheeks tried to match the red color of my top.
I rectified the situation, while Mitch watched me out of the corner of her eye with a self-satisfied grin on her face. I scowled at her as I left, fully dressed this time, which only made her laugh. But I was not incognizant of the fact that her watching me dress made me feel strange inside.
Out on the court I shook off the strange feelings I was having, stretching a bit before hitting a few with one of the upperclassmen. Mitch made it out onto the court at the same time as the coaches gathered us around.
“Ok, everybody gather round. It’s Friday, and you old timers know what that means. Doubles practice. So, Kirkpatrick and Spencer, I want you to work with Kenner and Williamson. Mitchell and Kolokhotsova, I want you…”
My mind tuned out the rest. We’d been put up against some of the upper class women. They were already talking together as they made their way out to the court, probably plotting our demise.
Mitch came up behind me. “Hey, we got this, come on.”
I nodded and jogged out with her, some of the nervous energy draining away as I began to move my body. They served first, and we only got one point during the game. Mitch started the first game for us. She hit a great serve up the T, but Sarah Williamson, our opponent, anticipated and swatted the ball crosscourt into the alley, well out of my reach. When I turned, I saw that Mitch was playing too close to the center, and she didn’t have a chance at it either.
“Love — Fifteen.” They called out the score and gave each other a high five while I jogged back to Mitch, who was kicking the ground.
“Hit this one out wide, huh?”
Mitch scowled. “I hate serving wide.” I knew why, wide serves were slower.
I tried to harden my gaze. “I know, and so does everyone else on the team, so they’re playing you up the middle. And take a few steps to the side. It’s not singles; you don’t want to serve from the middle. It leaves the alley too open.”
Mitch looked for a moment like she wanted to say something, but in the end she just nodded.
“Ok, I’m going to look to poach if I can.” I jogged back to the net, getting low and spinning my racquet. I looked back, and saw Mitch stand in the middle again, before thinking a second and taking a couple small steps to her left. I smiled, part of me shocked she’d actually listened. The serve was out wide, and our opponent, who’d been cheating middle, didn’t even get a frame on it..
“Nice!” I jogged back and gave Mitch five, who was smiling now. “See? Do it again.”
“You sure?”
“You need the practice.”
Mitch nodded. This time her wide serve was just barely out. She took a second ball and hit it in the same place, this time good, but not as hard. I’d shown my opponent that I was cheating slightly into the alley, but slid back to the center as soon as Mitch hit the ball. Sarah tried to take her forehand crosscourt, but I was already headed that way, and volleyed the ball away easily.
Mitch was pumping her fist slightly. “That was awesome. You baited her, didn’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Another one out wide?”
“Yeah, one more. Then we’ll switch it up.”
Mitch ended up holding her serve, and I got to hit some more volleys, something I didn’t do a lot of normally. Mitch was like a loaded gun, and it was fast becoming obvious that it was my job to point her in the right direction before she went off. For her part she was always pumping me up. I hate to admit it, but I had fun. She just made me laugh, with her childlike exuberance combined with a relentless optimism. It was very refreshing.
We actually won our set, breaking serve in the tenth game on an awesome series of volleys at the net by both of us. We each gave a scream of victory and embraced, and I didn’t think anything of it until we broke apart. That had, um, felt nice.
After practice I was talking to Carrie. “I think we did well, won our set. How ’bout you guys?”
Carrie shook her head. “Not so good.”
“What’s it like playing with, um, what’s her name?”
“Lidke, her name is Lidke. She’s from the Czech Republic. I think she’s shy, doesn’t have a lot of confidence in her English yet. She’s good, though.”
Mitch plopped down between us. “Great first week! Which means it’s party time!”
I shook my head. “I have plans with Ethan.”
“Mr. GQ? Bring him along.”
“You just want him to come so you can make fun of him.”
Mitch shrugged. “I’ll admit that’s part of his charm.”
Carrie laughed. “You’re terrible. Did you have something in mind, or was it just, y’know, ‘party’?”
“As a matter of fact, the Beta Delts are having a Winter Fest tonight.”
Carrie shook her head. “That’s a target rich environment for you”
“Maybe. So many curious, so little time. It’s a curse, I tell you.”
I huffed and Mitch fixed her little half smile on me. “I don’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to do. I just help them do everything they’ve always wanted to do.”
“Well, I want to go out with my boyfriend, and you can keep your sordid activities to yourself.” I put as much admonishment in the statement as I could, but I had to turn away before I started laughing at the look of almost girlish glee on Mitch’s face.
“So no sordid activities in store tonight for poor Evan?”
“Ethan.” I scowled at her. “And if there were I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Whatever. Enjoy your five minutes of fun!” She pulled her bag over her shoulder as I turned back to my locker. By the time I realized my boyfriend had just been insulted she’d already started walking away, signing an off color rhyme.
Carrie laughed at my outraged expression. “You, know if you wouldn’t get so discombobulated around her she’d tease you less.”
“Sorry,” I took a breath and groaned in frustration, “she just pushes my buttons.”
“I know, and so does she.”
“Why does she do it? Why does she have to be so…”
“So Mitch?” Carrie shook her head. “My dad always told me that boys only teased the girls they liked. Maybe it’s true for butches, too.”
“That does not help.”
***
Mitch had been wrong. It’d lasted longer than five minutes, but fortunately not by much. My roommate was gone for the weekend, and I’d taken advantage and practically dragged Ethan back to my room. The sad thing is, I was doing it just to get even with Mitch. Damn it, she wasn’t the only one who could have great sex. In theory at least, because I certainly hadn’t.
Ethan had, apparently, at least judging by his contented snoring. I just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, my mind traitorously wondering what Mitch was doing. I imagined her with a chestnut brunette, dancing slowly to some dreamy ballad, the girl’s expression rife with innocent wonder and desire. But try as I might, I could not picture Mitch’s countenance as predatory or mean spirited. Those things were so alien to who Mitch was that the thought was inconceivable. Instead she was wearing her normal, enthusiastic, friendly smile.
Ethan grunted in his sleep and rolled toward me. The twin bed gave us very little room, and he ended up lying half on top of me, his arm around my middle. I tried to gently push him away. He was still all sweaty, and his body spray stank. Eventually I managed to get him to face the other direction. I really wished he’d just get up and go back to his place. I felt a tear in my eye. This was not how someone was supposed to feel after making love.
The girl I pictured with Mitch swam up before my consciousness. She was going to be happy and satisfied, her lover would make sure of it. She was so lucky, and with that thought I finally drifted off to sleep.
***
I woke alone in my bed, pulling my covers over my head to push away the morning light. I reached over to my desk and found my phone. It was showing one percent battery, and I just had time to glance at the time and see Ethan had sent me a text before it died.
I finally managed to find my charger, flopping back down on my bed after I plugged it in. I was so glad I’d woken up alone, and my heart was in knots. What the hell was wrong with me? I’d used Ethan last night, just used him, and to do what? To get even with someone I didn’t even like, whom I had no reason to even be mad at? I felt dirty. I buried my phone under my pillow and sat up, wrapping my comforter around my shoulders.
I looked at my digital alarm clock, the bright red numbers traitorously showing ten after eight. I was due in the gym in under an hour, where I’d have to face Mitch.
I dragged my miserable carcass to the shower. I could still smell Ethan’s body spray on me, as well as stale sex, and I wanted it gone. As the water ran over my shoulders I felt a tear escape my eyes. This was not the person I wanted to be. For crying out loud, I didn’t need to compete with Michelle Kirkpatrick. If she wanted to sleep with every coed in the freshman class, that was not my problem.
When I made it to the gym, only a couple minutes late, thank you very much, Mitch and Carrie were cracking up over on the mats while stretching.
“… So he comes back with the drink she didn’t want, and it’s like ‘Vicky, what the hell?’ So I was like ‘She’s moved on to better things, man. Get over it’. So he rounded on me, like he was gonna take a swing. I just stared him down. He backed off.”
“Jesus, what if he had taken a swing?” Carrie was staring up at her with awe. That kind of made me mad, not sure why.
Mitch just shrugged. “He was drunk. I’d’ve had him singing falsetto and hopping up and down in two seconds.”
I gave a derisive laugh as I sat down and put the soles of my feet together in front of me, legs in a butterfly position.
“You don’t think so, Spencer?”