Chasing dreams year thre.., p.7
Chasing Dreams, Year Three, page 7
“For your sake, anyway,” Cadence said, leaning down to kiss his shoulder. She shook her head. “But I don’t think now is the time. We’ve come too far. I need you, Daniel. I need you focused with me on this journey. I know it sounds selfish, but I don’t want to rock the boat. Maybe after the Olympics? I’ll probably be all keen to start thinking about the next ones, but at least I’ll have had the experience. Then we can blow our lives up.” Despite her dark words, Daniel noticed she fought to place a grim smile on her face.
He knew she was right. He couldn’t be the death of her dreams for selfish reasons, no matter how strong they were. I’m not going to sacrifice her just because I want to be honest with my family. Especially when I’m sure they won’t understand. It would be a huge cost for absolutely nothing except to clear my conscience.
“Not even after the Olympics,” he promised her. “Not unless the time is right and I’m sure they’ll keep it quiet. I got into this with my eyes open. We promised our decisions would protect all of our dreams. I’m not going to ruin that.”
“Neither of us has any real family left,” Evelyn admitted. “We don’t feel the same pull you do. I remember what it was like, but it… it isn’t there for us, demanding our attention. If this is making you miserable, we can’t ignore it.”
“It isn’t,” Daniel said, finding a smile. “I’d tell you if it was that bad. That’s why I’m saying it now when it’s just a frustration. Didn’t want to let it fester.”
“Good. We’ve got full access to this heart of yours,” Cadence smirked. “No burying secrets inside it, hear me?”
“Some people would call this a terrible arrangement,” he chuckled. “Promises for no games. Total honesty. A nightmare. Could be dangerous, you know.”
“Oh?”
“Well, if we’re being totally honest, then anything you say, I’m going to take at face-value. Won’t question it for a second. Better be careful what you wish for.”
Cadence’s hand slipped down over his abs, pausing to explore them, then dipped lower and curled around the base of his shaft. Her palm warmed his length, pumping in a soft, building rhythm. “Are you telling me there’s a genie we can rub out of this lamp?”
“Never been a big fan of wishing,” Evelyn said thoughtfully as she stroked her fingers tantalizingly over his fleshy orbs, drifting back to tease his ass. “Too unreliable.”
“What do you think works better?” he asked.
“Paying it forward,” Evelyn purred. “And since I want your lips on me in a few minutes…” She billowed the sheets up and disappeared beneath them.
“Hey, I thought we were going to eat brunch together.” Cadence giggled and chased her under.
Daniel shuddered as he felt their mouths join their hands on him. He lay back against his pillow and savored the heaven they were giving him, conjuring the playful ways he was going to repay them in kind.
Chapter 7
Zach kicked off the ground and coasted on his longboard. The slope was picking up slightly as the street wended toward the beach. He used the long-lasting momentum without letting his speed get out of control. The longboard was his only reliable means of transport. A car was way out of his price range and taking a taxi would be nearly as bad.
He angled up a ramp and onto the sidewalk before he reached the red mile marker, plucking his earbuds out as he rolled to a stop. He took a deep breath and enjoyed the vista. A giddy sensation bubbled through him. He felt like he was playing hooky. After the sacrifice he had made the night before, his co-workers had agreed to present their work that morning. He wasn’t sure Ben would see things the same way, but he’d shut down his ancient flip phone just in case. He figured he could say it finally crapped out. Maybe he won’t fire me with that excuse.
Though he enjoyed his volleyball games, they were only a couple hours at a time. The poker game the previous morning had been an anomaly. He hadn’t had a real ‘day off’ in quite a while. It always seemed like he was racing about. He really was there to help Anya, but he decided there was no crime in enjoying himself, especially since he was risking his job. He looked around, re-familiarizing himself with the area.
While the waterfront stretched to the west, it was mostly rock. To the east, the sandy portions began, indicating the unofficial start to the public St. Margaret’s Beach.
There were better beaches for locals who wanted isolation from the tourist crowds, but those were outside the city. St. Margaret’s was near enough to reach from the university with a brisk twenty-minute walk or ten-minute boarding trip.
It was separated from the more popular tourism districts of Nouveau Marseilles. Private beaches stretched out in front of the hotels on the major strip, with restaurants, casinos, buskers and stores to keep tourists happy. There was no reason for most of them to wander afield.
Of course, the brave ones wandered. St. Margaret’s was advertised as the ‘local’ beach, which meant tourists came to see the Portesaran islanders in their ‘native’ environment. Despite the occasional irritating outsider showing up, it was the cleanest beach with the purest-white sand available without leaving the city.
The beach was about six miles with mile-markers of rainbow colors. Bracketing the beach were two well-used, well maintained, expansive parks with picnic tables scattered over the grass. It was a couple hours before lunch, but there were already a few people munching food while others threw frisbees to their dogs.
None of it really mattered to Zach right now. He was fixated on Anya Amirault waiting for him. She was perched on top of a picnic table, her feet propped on the seat, with her elbows resting on her knees. She was holding a paperback book, flipping through pages at an admirable rate.
The sun was shining down on her, and a breeze was blowing Anya’s loose ponytail. Her blue sarong-style skirt fluttered, teasing him with the coffee-cream color of her long legs. She was wearing a halter top which cupped and emphasized her lovely breasts. A wide-brimmed grey thatch hat kept the sun out of her eyes.
He looked down at his distressed jean-shorts, open-collar, and beige, short-sleeved shirt. His fashion sense was a lot plainer than hers. However, a smile found him when he noticed Anya’s white, Kangaruin sneakers with their light-blue flashes that matched her swimsuit. Whatever else their differences, their shoes were an exact match.
He grabbed his longboard off the pavement, tucked it under his arm and strode over the spongy grass. Not wanting to startle her, he called out from a few paces away. “Not a fan of e-readers?”
“More like I can’t afford one,” Anya said softly, not quite a complaint. “Can get nearly anything at the used book store for a couple dollars.” She shrugged. “Plus, I like the smell.”
“What are you reading?”
“Neuromancer by Gibson. Know it?”
His mouth ticked open a little. Sweet Lord, I think I’m in love. He swallowed as casually as he could to banish the catch in his throat. “Umm, yeah. I’ve checked it out a couple times before.”
“Into Sci-Fi?”
Fighting to keep his laugh to a cool chuckle, he said, “I’m a computer coding engineer. Sorta comes with the territory.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t judge. You’ve already bucked the curve once by liking volleyball more than football.” She turned the book over, propping the pages open with her knees. She reached up and worked the scrunchy free of her sweeping black hair. The wind took it for a second before she regathered it and secured it by folding the end back through the scrunchy, creating a loop.
The whole process was utter magic and left Zach a tad speechless.
Her silver eyes found his, not doing anything to help him out of his stunned moment. “Well?”
“Well?” he echoed stupidly.
She rolled her dazzling eyes, then fixed him with an unamused glare. “I’d love to sit around chatting about all the genre greats. Not often I find someone I can geek out with. But you promised me some trick.”
“Oh, yeah.” He reassembled his intellect and reminded himself he could act like less of a moron around her if he tried really hard. “Not exactly a trick. I mean, when I show you, I honestly think you’re going to wonder why you hadn’t already thought of it.”
“Out here?”
He forced a smile. “Right down there. Heard about it on the radio.”
“The radio?”
He waggled the earbuds dangling against his shoulder. “You’re not the only one on a budget. Who’s got the money for streaming music or a bunch of downloads?” He shrugged. “Don’t turn your nose up at TPLS 106.3. The Pulse.” He leaned into the last words with the same gravitas as the announcers.
“All the hits of yesterday and today,” Anya quoted with a smirk.
“Along with Somba Juice, they’re co-sponsors of Ocean Slam, the year’s wildest beach volleyball tournament.”
Anya’s eyes widened and her mouth parted ever so slightly.
Eager to show her first-hand, he tossed his head toward the beach. “Come on. It’s not far. We’ll hear the crowd noise soon.” He could see her wanting to ask something, but he jogged off, hoping she’d choose to follow.
She did. She could easily have overtaken him, but she paced him instead so that they came into sight of the tournament grounds at the same time.
It was an impressive sight for a commercially sponsored event without professional accreditation. It was just a publicity stunt, but the organizers didn’t seem to be doing anything by half-measures. Two lines of bleachers ran along five pairs of volleyball courts, stretching almost to the orange mile marker. There were banners and posters everywhere, proclaiming the event’s name along with the sponsors’. Stalls selling Somba Juice were scattered sporadically about, paired up with Pita Pocket Pit food carts.
Midway down, a DJ thumped a bass beat and background teaser while a strident male voice came through the speakers, “Welcome, welcome, welcome, to Ocean Slam! I am Michael Roberts.”
“And I am Felicia Ray,” his broadcasting partner dove in. “We’ve got a rocking show for you today and we’ll be coming at you live for the whole tournament, pumping tunes and calling results until we crown a winner. Get ready for a wild ride!”
Obviously waiting for that signal, the contestants broke out from under the sun-shades and jogged onto the courts. From what Zach could see, only about a third of the athletes moved. The others waited for their turn to cycle through.
A small crowd had already gathered. But now, he noticed people on the boardwalk slowed and paid attention to what was going on.
Zach thought it was over-the-top, typical of radio broadcasts, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a crowd-pleaser.
Beside him, Anya gawked. “This is what you wanted to show me?” Rather than delighted, her expression was verging toward annoyed. “You know, getting left off the team wasn’t a ton of fun. I’m not really in the mood to watch this. I know you meant well, but…” She shook her head and turned away.
Realizing he hadn’t explained his intent, he rushed after her. “Sorry, Anya. That isn’t what I meant. I mean, well… sort of. We could watch a little. But that isn’t the real…” He growled, frustrated with himself and unsure of where to start. “Look, you know FIVB, right?”
She stopped, her back still facing the beach. “Yes. The International Volleyball Federation. They govern the variations of the sport.”
“Right. Since Portesara’s sporting reputation has been trash the last few years, they haven’t sponsored a beach volleyball main event here on the island. No one has been asking for it, probably because the mainstream teams have been soaking up all the talent.”
“Not all the talent.”
Zach raced in front of her. “Exactly! That’s why I brought you here.”
“It’s a different game,” Anya said with a touch of exasperation. “I know it looks the same, but the rules aren’t the same. The court is a different texture and the pace of the game changes.”
“I’m not a total outsider,” Zach replied softly. “I mean, I’m no expert. I’ve played but only with friends.” He gestured at his shorter stature with gentle self-mockery. “Not really built to lose my amateur status, you know?” She tried to step around him but he pressed his luck, getting in front of her again. “Look, I know it isn’t the same. But it isn’t totally different, either. What’s better is that the focus is all on the Inferno as the national volleyball hopefuls. You could take the beach volleyball scene by storm!”
“The sport commission isn’t even looking at this event.”
“I know. It’s perfect!” His tone turned serious. “Tell me honestly. Do you think the Inferno is going to make the Olympics? Are they even going to make the World’s?”
Anya folded her arms. That lifted her breasts, which made him almost miss her scowl. It looked like she was considering if he was worthy of her honesty. He could understand her caution; she didn’t want to be quoted as saying anything that would get her kicked off the team forever.
At last, she shrugged. “No. Not unless they get hugely lucky. The commission said they would choose their team of 35, then take more if the athletes could pay their own way.” She waved at the university in the distance. “The school can’t afford to pay for the whole team and not every girl on it is rich. Half of them are like me. On scholarship. They’d need to take at least nine players. If they don’t crack the top five at the Pan Am, there’s no way they’ll even be in the top twenty at the World’s. The sports commission won’t use nine of their spots for that.”
“I totally agree. On the other hand, beach volleyball teams only have two. Three if you have an extra to rotate in.”
Anya nodded somberly. “Your point being that I could go further on the beach.”
“Hell yeah!” He pushed a smile back onto his face. “The time’s right. Look at what Irène Minot has done in the last six months just by meeting a qualifying standard in heptathlon, a sport no one was paying attention to before she came along.” He pointed at the beach. “We’re an island nation. Beautiful beaches. Hundreds of people flocking to those bleachers just to watch 60 or 70 people who think they’re hot shots. Imagine their reaction if some real talent showed up.”
She let out a small huff. As if trying to shoot holes in a crazy theory, she pointed out, “Like you said, a fairly key element of beach volleyball is having two people on the team. Minimum.”
“And that’s why we’re here!”
“You want me to find a partner down there?” Anya laughed.
“Why not?”
“Why not? You just implied none of the people down there have a shot at international competition.”
“Yeah, guess I did. But what I really meant to say was that none of the teams down there have a shot.” Zach threw his hands wide. “I’m sure you’re like me. Doesn’t matter if it’s court volleyball, beach volleyball, snow volleyball or dog volleyball. If it’s on TV, you’ll watch it.”
A small smirk appeared on her face. “Yeah, so?”
“Not every team on the circuit has two crack superstars. Always hear the announcers going on and on about one or the other. They use nice words like ‘player two really supports player 1’ or ‘player 2 is a great compliment to player 1’. What they really mean is player 1 is the star who is going to win the gold medal while player 2 is doing her best not to get left behind.”
Shaking her head, Anya wagged a finger at him. “I might not know you that well, but if you’re half the fan you say you are, then you know that isn’t really true. The gold medal will go to the team with a pair of superstars dragging each other over the finish line.”
He sighed, holding up his palms in defeat. “Absolutely. I was exaggerating for the sake of making my point. And sure, it might not be a gold medal that ends up around your neck. And no, you won’t be able to make a decent showing with a complete idiot at your side. But if you are good, you could go a long way with someone who is only decent to back you up.”
“I wish it could be me, but it can’t. I’m not even decent.” Zach waved out at the beach. “I’m not totally sure we’re going to find anyone better out there. But The Pulse has done you a favor by bringing hopefuls into reach for an audition.”
“And if this doesn’t work?”
“I don’t know. We put something on the university notice board. Wanted: one volleyball superstar in the making.”
She shook her head. “This is idiotic, you know that, right? It’s far too late to start chiseling away at smaller competitions, trying to get noticed. The sports commission would laugh my application out of their office. Do you realize what it would take to secure a spot at the World Championships this year?”
“Yeah, I do. I sent an email to my Aunt who watches this sort of thing. She gave me the rundown of what your chances would be,” he said. “You’d need to come in the top five at the Pan Am. Better still if you medaled.”
“That sounds like a long-shot.”
“Which is way better than no shot at all, right?” Zach sighed. “Look, I know this is a huge gamble.”
“Then why are you doing all this?” she pressed.
“Because what I heard the coach say was sucky, alright?” He admitted with open exasperation. “My boss had just finished dumping all over me, and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it. Then I heard the coach benching you before he even saw you play. Hanging his hat on low odds instead of taking a risk with someone new. I get his loyalty, but it was misplaced.”
“I might not have made a difference,” Anya noted, reaching up to pin her hat to her head as the breeze tried to snath it away.
“Sure. But we both know you wouldn’t have made it any worse. He couldn’t see that? Fine. Then leave him in the dust. He’s got his blinders on. And all due respect, you don’t want to lock yourself into his box.”
Her eyes narrowed at him. “You’ve got a lot of faith in someone you’ve never seen play.”
“Seen all I need to see,” he said, looking her up and down. “I mean, you wouldn’t have gotten that scholarship if you didn’t have the mechanics down. All I needed to know was if you really wanted it. I knew that as soon as I saw you sitting on that bench.”
