//------------------------------// // After the First Game of the Season // Story: The Final Game of the Season // by Admiral Biscuit //------------------------------// The Final Game of the Season Admiral Biscuit That day the entire school had been buzzing with enthusiasm–by luck of the draw their first game of the season was against their biggest rival, Crystal Prep.  Crystal Prep had the best volleyball team they’d ever fielded. Indigo Zap and Sour Sweet were a good combo at the net, spiking, setting, and blocking with equal aplomb. And Sugarcoat was brutal as a server; she could drop the ball wherever she wanted. Offsetting that advantage, both Sunset and Kerfuffle had graduated from Junior Varsity and the new varsity team had shown what it was capable of during the pre-season; everybody expected this match to be a game for the ages. Anticipation had built through the day, the whole team had had a small pizza party in the cafeteria after school, and then they’d gotten dressed and waited for the game to begin. They got their first glance of the crowds in the stands as they warmed up on the court, and then the starting whistle blew. They’d lost their first match but came back with a vengeance in the second, rallied by determination and a few hard-earned lessons. By the third, they’d really gelled as a team and driven the final point home with a beautiful dive by Sunset that led into an accidentally beautiful set for Kerfuffle, who’d leaped from the second row to spike it down with a crushing finality. In hindsight, a fitting swan song. Nobody wanted to let go of the high of the moment, and after they’d showered and changed, they’d hung out in the locker room, reliving the highlights of the game. It was a moment that couldn’t last forever, as much as they wanted it to, and finally the rest of the team had departed. Only Kerfuffle and Sunset were left, and the two walked together through the darkened hallways of the school to their lockers, only a few feet apart. Any thought of her math homework had long since fled her mind, until she was grabbing what she needed to take home for the night. We won the game, that ought to be an excuse to not do homework. Of course, it wasn’t. “Hey, Kerfuffle?” “Yeah?” “What did you get for question 6?” “Ah, twenty-five over the square root of four.” “Really?” “Yeah, I rechecked twice, ‘cause that didn’t seem right.” “That’s what I got, too,” Sunset lied. “That’s why I remember.” “Seems odd, the answers are usually . . . nice round numbers.” “Same thing I was thinking.” Kerfuffle pushed her locker door shut and spun her combo lock. “Figure it was just a way to mess with us, like when there’s a whole string of the same answer on multiple choice tests.” “Yeah.” Sunset reached into her jeans pocket to make sure her car keys were there. “You ride your bike today?” Kerfuffle nodded. I should offer her a ride, it’s late. But then she’d have to figure out a way to fit Kerfuffle’s bike in her car, which would at the very least mean rearranging the stuff in her trunk. “Why?” “You have lights on it, don’t you?” “Yeah, and there’s lots of street lights between here and my house, I’ll be fine.” “Because I could—” “It’s fine. Catch ya tomorrow, Sunset.” “Yeah. Hey, that was a heck of a game, wasn’t it?” Kerfuffle nodded. “Best I’ve ever played.” “No question, and that spike at the end—keep that up all season, and we’ll be going to finals.”