Very good

The gymnasium buzzes with energy as the stands fill for the match against Eastridge. You roll Vanessa's shoulders, feeling the difference in her musculature—leaner, more wiry than your powerful running back frame. But underneath those differences, you recognize the fundamentals of athletic movement that transcend sports.

The referee's whistle pierces the air. Game time.

"Positions, ladies!" Coach Harper calls, and the team jogs onto the court. You take Vanessa's place as setter, the quarterback of volleyball, responsible for distributing the ball to the hitters.

The first serve comes screaming over the net. Casey digs it perfectly, sending it arcing toward you. As the ball descends, you feel Vanessa's trained instincts guiding your hands, but you add your own athletic intelligence—adjusting her wrist angle slightly, using core strength differently than she typically would. The result is a perfect set that Lauren smashes for a point.

"Nice one, V!" Lauren high-fives you, her palm slapping against yours.

The game intensifies. You find yourself in a fascinating dance between Vanessa's ingrained technique and your own athletic knowledge. When she might tire in the second set, you tap into your football endurance training, keeping her body fresh. When a ball comes too far from the net, you use your understanding of explosive movement to get there faster than Vanessa normally could.

"Chen is on fire tonight," you overhear the scout saying to Coach Harper during a timeout. "I've never seen her move like this."

During a particularly intense rally in the third set, you dive for a ball that Vanessa might normally let go. Your football instincts kick in—the same ones that help you avoid tackles—allowing you to extend her body further than she's accustomed to. Your fingertips connect with the ball, popping it up perfectly for Jade to spike for a crucial point.

The crowd erupts. Your teammates mob you, slapping your back and ruffling your hair.

"Where did that come from?" Casey laughs, her face flushed with exertion and excitement. "I've never seen you move like that!"

Coach Harper's typically stoic expression has softened into something approaching wonder. The PCU scout is furiously scribbling notes.

In the final set, with the score tied 23-23, the opposing team's best hitter sends a blistering spike toward the back corner. Using your football peripheral vision—honed from watching for defenders—you spot it earlier than Vanessa might have. You lunge, extending her body horizontally, and somehow manage to bump the ball back into play. Lauren converts it into the go-ahead point.

One point later, victory belongs to Westlake. The team erupts in cheers, forming a jubilant circle at center court. Casey pulls you into a sweaty embrace, her body pressing against Vanessa's in a way that sends electricity through your borrowed nervous system.

"That was unbelievable," she whispers in your ear, still holding you tight. "Whatever you did to prepare for tonight, keep doing it."

As the celebration continues, the PCU scout approaches, hand extended. "Vanessa Chen? I'm Melissa Winters from Pacific Coast University. I'd like to speak with you about our volleyball program when you have a moment."

Over her shoulder, through the gymnasium windows, you catch a glimpse of your own body still slumped on the bench in the hallway. A security guard now stands beside it, talking into his radio with a concerned expression.