4. Prologue -- Betsy

Prologue -- Betsy

I nternational Games Qualification Round

My muscles were burning as I leapt into the air, sending the volleyball over the net and towards the opposing team. The other team returned the ball, sending it sailing over my head. My teammate behind me quickly sent it back.

Everyone on this team was the best of the best, selected from volleyball teams around the country to join the U.S. national team. Now we were competing to win one of only twelve spots in the International Games. The host country of France automatically got a spot, which left eleven spots for all the other countries to compete for.

The U.S. generally made it, but it was far from guaranteed. Mexico was giving us a run for our money today. And since our U.S. team was only recently formed, we hadn't gelled yet, something that was obvious from our less than stellar playing.

The ball flew back over the net, halfway between me and my new teammate Kelly Larson. I'd known Kelly for years. We'd played against each other in both high school and college back in Kansas. She'd always struck me as one of those girls who thought she was better than everyone else. She mostly kept to herself, and with her perfect blonde hair, symmetrical face, huge blue eyes, and expensive clothes she seemed super standoffish. Typical snobby rich girl.

We'd had several run-ins over the years. For some reason, whenever we played against each other she seemed to go out of her way to piss me off. Once I swear she purposely spiked a ball at my head, although of course she denied it.

But now we were on the same team and, if we won this game, we'd be heading to Paris together. We needed to work together and learn to get along. Well, work together anyway.

As the ball sailed on its trajectory between us, Kelly and I both yelled, "Got it!" at the same time and before either of us could react, we both leapt forward towards the ball. Our hands met underneath the ball a second before our heads collided hard enough to send us both reeling back.

"Ow!" I yelped as I fell backwards onto the hard surface of the court.

Kelly swore as she also hit the ground. I looked up in enough time to see another teammate hit the ball we'd somehow kept in motion, sending it over the net and bouncing to the floor.

"Game!" the referee called as the med staff came running over to make sure that neither Kelly nor I was injured.

"You girls okay?" one of the medical guys asked.

"Fine."

My head hurt too hard to call him out on the sexist language. As I pushed to my feet, I turned around to glare at Kelly, noticing that a red patch was rising on her forehead where we'd collided.

"Watch where you're going next time," I grumbled, the bitch part of that sentence silent. I didn't want to get kicked off the team for unsportsmanlike conduct.

"How about you keep your giant bowling ball head away from me?" she snipped as the medic pulled her up to stand. She looked the tiniest bit shaky.

I stalked off the court without a word. I heard the crowd cheering and chanced a look at the scoreboard. Oh yeah, we won the game. We were going to Paris! I'd have to celebrate – once my headache wore off.