11. Kelly

Kelly

I wanted to laugh at the shocked look on Betsy's face.

"What?"

"Did you know we have free healthcare while we're here?" I asked.

"No."

I could tell that she didn't understand why that was a big deal.

"Well, we do, and since I don't have health insurance, I'm getting everything looked at while I'm here. I got a full physical today including the well women's exam. On our next rest day I'm getting a cavity filled and having an eye exam. I can't wait to get my glasses replaced."

"You wear glasses?" she asked.

"I'm supposed to, but my glasses got smashed and I haven't been able to afford to replace them."

When she continued to stare at me like I was speaking a foreign language, I said, "I guess you have health insurance, huh?"

"Yeah, I have insurance from my job," Betsy said. "I guess I'm lucky that I've never had to worry about stuff like that."

"You sure are. Did you eat yet?"

"No." She still seemed a bit flummoxed.

After dinner, we had a quiet night, going to bed early so we could be fresh for our quarterfinals game the next day. We were playing against Belgium, and those girls were pretty determined to win. So were we.

The entire team met in front of our building and headed over to the arena together. The coaches were waiting for us in the locker room, ready to give us a pep talk. I'd had a lot of coaches during my volleyball days, and these two were both top in the field. I'd already learned a lot working with them, although I'd probably quit playing volleyball after this.

Well, maybe I could join a rec league or something. I loved the game too much to stop playing altogether. But I needed to stop traveling for tournaments so I could focus on getting a job with a steady salary. And health insurance. The relief that I'd felt during my check-ups yesterday was a wake-up call for me. I couldn't continue living without insurance, not with thirty only a few years away.

"Mine!"

I heard Betsy's voice as she moved up the middle between me and another teammate. Why she was moving forward when the ball was right in front of us, I didn't know.

"Mine!" I said, jumping up sideways and giving the ball a hard hit that sent it over the net. Point for us.

Betsy was still in motion as she tried to avoid crashing into me, her momentum sending her falling to the floor.

"God damn it Kelly, I said it was mine!" she exploded from the floor.

"Yet the trajectory was sending it directly in front of me," I said sarcastically. "Quit trying to hog the ball."

She leapt to her feet and approached me aggressively. "Hog the ball? You're the one hogging the ball!"

The referee blew the whistle and one of the coaches yelled, "Larson! Stephens! Rotate out."

Two of our teammates came onto the court as Betsy and I headed to the bench.

"This is supposed to be a team sport you know," Betsy groused. "If a teammate is getting the ball, let them get the ball."

"Why would I let you get the ball from behind and at that angle when it was right in front of me?" I argued.

"It wasn't right in front of you, you near-sighted idiot, it was between you and Collins, a wide open space that I could fill to return the ball."

"It was not!"

"It was too!"

"Enough!" We both jumped as Coach Roberts loomed over us.

"Quit acting like middle school brats. This is the International Games. You're here representing your country while millions of people are watching. For the love of God behave." She waved her pointer finger between us. "If we get an unsportsmanlike conduct call because of you two, I will send your asses home so fast you won't have time to stop for a croissant, you hear me?"

"Yes Coach," we said in unison.

We sat on the bench the rest of the game, neither of us saying a word until our team beat Belgium. Barely. Then we left the bench, jumping and hugging with our teammates as we celebrated being one of the four teams moving on to the next round, the semifinals.

There was another quarterfinal match today, and two tomorrow, then we all had a rest day, so thanks to timing, we were getting two days off. Well, other than our morning conditioning workout tomorrow. I was debating about doing a little sightseeing on one of those days, something easy like one of those ‘on-off' bus trips or a boat ride or something.

Then again, maybe I'd see what other kind of medical treatments I could get while I was here.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't clock the change in Betsy's mood as we walked down the hall to our room. As soon as we got inside, she turned on me with an angry expression.

"What?"

"What?" she asked in a high-pitched voice, imitating me. "My hip hurts, do you know why?"

"Because you inexplicably pushed your way up to our row trying to hog the ball?" I suggested sweetly, walking around her to look for some clean clothes.

The team was going to meet up later and watch the afternoon match so we could scope out the competition – and show support to our fellow athletes, of course.

"I was not hogging the ball," she said from between clenched teeth.

I paused with a pair of shorts in my hand.

"What's your problem?" I asked. "That's not the first time you've wiped out on the court, and it won't be the last. Quit being such a big baby."