Volleyball.

Third period that day was P.E. and it reminded me of the conversation I’d had with Sarah about it yesterday. She didn’t like the outfits because they were t-shirts and shorts that got guys staring, and watching from the side of the court in the gym, I understood her better than before.

The girls of the class were having their volleyball match. Sarah, Grace and Mila were on the same team, and seeing them run around in their P.E. outfits made me look forward to lunch break way too much.

I saw Sarah running and jumping high to go for a pretty nasty spike that the other team couldn’t even react to. She had beautiful, long legs and was unarguably the most athletic girl on the court. Mila wasn’t that far behind, though, running to catch the ball as much as she could and set it high in the air. Far from a pro, but apparently not a stranger to the sport. Then there was Grace, who was definitely not having a good time in there. She moved little, couldn’t receive the ball properly and got scared of getting hit in the face. I could relate so, so much.

Watching them was nice. Seeing their figures and their… bounciness was a treat to the soul as much as the eyes. Problem was I wasn’t the only one staring. Most of our male classmates had their eyes on them, being generally considered the hottest girls in our class. It was hard to blame them, but even so… I was assaulted by a nonsensical feeling of possessiveness.

They were all looking at them with lust in their eyes, but they were mine. Mine to look at, mine to touch, mine to please. I knew I had no business thinking that, but it was there in the back of my mind, present all throughout the match.

Stop looking at them. Don’t you even dare to think about taking them away from me. Stuff like that passed through my head whenever I caught someone’s eyes on them.

Every once in a while, my eyes would meet those of someone looking at them with a lecherous grin on their face, and the moment they saw me, they immediately turned and started walking away like they were doing literally anything but that.

…Was I looking scary again? Why would anyone be scared of me, anyway? It made the guys stop ogling, but I didn’t know if I should be happy or worried.

When it was time for the men’s match, the coach picked two leaders and they took turns choosing members. Guess who got picked last. And if you thought my newfound athleticism would suddenly make me good at volleyball, then you’d be wrong. Even if I was faster and stronger, I didn’t have the technique to receive the ball or the coordination to jump at the right time to spike the ball. At least now I was able to send the ball over the net when serving. Got us like six points in the entire match. A new personal record beating my previous zero points.

Once the match was over, the girls approached me, with Sarah giving me an amused look. “You suck at volleyball, huh?” she said.

I could only laugh nervously. “I’m not good with sports.”

“At least he scored more points than Grace,” Mila said, teasing her friend.

“I have terrible reflexes, okay?” Grace said. “Make me run if you have to, but don’t make me play sports.”

“Okay, people! To the showers!” announced the teacher. “And I need volunteers to take the equipment back to the storage room.”

I was lighting fast to raise my hand, not out of an altruistic desire to help, but because I wanted to avoid the crowded showers.

“Thanks, Oliver! Anyone else?”

“Sure, I’ll help.”

“Me too.”

“Then I guess I’ll help too.”

Sarah, Mila and Grace also volunteered, and it made me happy for some reason. However, I could hear classmates whispering. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, so of course I imagined all sorts of possible gossip.

The teacher gave me the keys to the storage room, but then Grace asked me to give them to her so she and Mila could take the balls they’d gathered around the court, throwing them into the sack to make them easier to carry. Meanwhile, Sarah and I got the net down. We carried everything to the storage room, and as I was setting down the net, I heard the door closing behind me.

Grace was standing there with a mischievous smile and dangling the keys to the storage room in front of her face. “We have a few minutes of privacy.” Her smile was barely visible in the darkness of the storage room with a single, small, barred window at the very top of the wall opposite to the door.

“So this is what you were planning,” Sarah chuckled. “No wonder you volunteered.”

“Well, after seeing Oliver glaring at every guy who looked our way, I got a little excited. Didn’t you?”

I flinched. They’d seen me do that? So I really was glaring without realizing it…

“Wait, that happened? I didn’t notice,” Mila said.

“It took me a while, but then I saw the guys acting all weird,” Sarah said, grinning. “Who knew Oliver was the jealous type?”

“I-I…!” I wanted to deny it, even if it was true. “I wasn’t…” But I couldn’t. They had my number, and I knew better than to argue uselessly. I hung my head in shame. “…Sorry. It’s not my place to be… jealous, is it?”

“I don’t know, a healthy amount of jealousy can be pretty flattering.” Grace chuckled and walked up to me. She cupped my cheek, gently tracing her fingertips along it and sending chills all over my body. With a look and an equally smoky tone, she asked, “Want us all to yourself, Oliver?”

My eyes went from Grace, to Sarah, to Mila and back. They looked at me… expectantly, waiting for an answer. An actual answer to what at first I believed to be some more random teasing from their part.

I...

Author's Note: Just wanted to sneak in a thank you to all people reading, commenting and even clicking the like button. I really do hope you're enjoying this story and it brings you even a small amount of comfort and enjoyment.

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