See Me After Class(39)

“Ugh, and you call yourself an athlete.” Stella tosses her hands in the air. “Embarrassing, Brock.” It’s funny to me when Stella uses Romeo’s actual name. She’s the only one I know who calls him Brock, and it’s as if his mother is yelling at him by the way he straightens up.

After dinner, which I ate silently off to the side while Romeo, Gunner, Stella, Greer, and Coraline all sat together, we set up the badminton court—the game of choice this year—and started going over strategy.

Since there are four people allowed on each side, and we only have five people right now, we’re playing two on two. Romeo told us we’ll get people to fill in as opponents and play us as we near the tournament. I’ve been sitting out, watching Stella and Romeo argue, while Greer avoids all eye contact with me besides the few snide looks she sends my way in between volleys.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Gunner calls out, tossing his racket to me. “Take my spot. Participation is required.”

Sighing, I stand, and Greer quickly says, “We should switch teams. Get used to other players.”

“No way,” Romeo says, shutting that idea down quickly. “Not when Stella is yapping at me about my athletic prowess.”

“What athletic prowess? I have yet to actually see you do something on this court, unless . . .” She turns to Coraline, who’s holding a rule book. “Cora, does it say anything in there about hitting the cock into the net for extra points that we’re unaware of? Because if that’s the case”—Stella slow claps—“you should be in the hall of fame for badminton.”

Coraline makes a show of flipping through the pages. “Nothing about netting the cock, but I’ll keep you posted.”

“Fine, until then, hit the damn thing over the net.” Stella pats him on the back and gets into position. “Come on, Turner. Greer won’t bite until after the game.”

Great.

I step into the marked-off space with Greer and keep my distance as Stella serves the shuttlecock over the net, straight to me. I get ready to hit it, only for Greer to step in front of me and hit it back.

“Uh, that was in my area.”

Romeo hits it over the net and cheers for himself.

Stella mutters a “finally.”

Once again, the shuttlecock flies toward me, and, with her hip, Greer bumps me out of the way to hit it.

“What the hell?”

She doesn’t answer me, but instead bounces on her feet like a tennis player at Wimbledon, waiting for the next hit.

Stella hits it this time, Romeo congratulates her, and I move in front of Greer, only for her to hop up and hit the shuttlecock back over the net.

“Greer, you can’t play by yourself.”

“Looks like she can.” Coraline snickers from the sidelines.

“Oh, nice hit,” Stella says to Romeo, the shuttlecock heading to the back corner of our court. Greer and I both back up, and before I know what I’m doing, I reach out and push her to the side, sending her into the grass, and hit the shuttlecock over the net.

“You bastard,” Greer says, hopping up and pushing at my chest.

The game is ignored as Stella hits the shuttlecock back over the net, where it drops between me and Greer as we stare each other down.

“You started it.” I poke her leg with my racket.

Her eyes widen and she pokes me back with her racket. “You were a dick to me way before I was to you. So, you started it. You can’t count previous experiences. This was a clean slate.”

“Oh, is that what that was back in my office, wiping the slate clean? I don’t recall that. All I can remember is you accusing me of punishing your athlete as vengeance.”

“You did. Admit it.”

“I have better things to do with my time than fuck with another faculty member and her student athletes. That’s more than I can say for you.” I look her up and down.

Greer opens her mouth to reply, only to look to the side, where Gunner—back from the bathroom—Stella, Romeo, and Coraline are all standing together, watching us.

“You know, I, uh, I think we did enough practicing tonight,” Romeo says. “I think we should call it a night.”

“Good idea.” Stella hands her racket to Gunner, who collects Romeo’s as well. “I was getting tired anyway.”

“Yeah, me too,” Gunner says.

“Ditto,” Romeo adds.

Coraline looks at all three of them and says, “Are you mental?” She waves toward me and Greer. “We’ve front-row seats to this nightmare unfolding, and you want to leave now?”

“I’m nervous of what might happen and would rather not be an accessory to murder.” She takes Coraline’s hand and says, “I’ll treat everyone to ice cream while these two figure out their issues.”

Greer tosses her racket and says, “I’ll join you.”

Stella puts her hand up and halts Greer. “You know I love and respect you, but no. You aren’t invited.” She motions between me and Greer. “You need to figure this out, because now that I’m involved in this stupid teachers’ league, I won’t let your petty fighting make a mockery of us. So, air out your grievances, figure it out, and when we see each other again, you two better have smiling faces, even if you have to fake it.”