Aced (Blocked #2) (7 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Lane

BOOK: Aced (Blocked #2)
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He took a deep breath again and mumbled something.

“What?” I prompted.

He looked straight at me. “I’m sorry, Alex.”

“Whoa,” Lucia said. When we both gave her quizzical looks, she kissed Dane’s cheek. “That’s a banner moment for you, Monroe: willingly apologizing. I can’t wait to tell Dr. Valentine about this.”

He breathed out through his nose as he shook his head. “She’ll probably take all the credit for it, too.” He looked down. “This is classic…the one white person thinking he knows everything about race. That’s not cool.”

I had to agree with him there.

“But you guys dealing with racism like that is awful. How do we stop that bullshit?”

“We need to keep communicating,” I said. “But we’re so afraid of saying the wrong thing—of hurting somebody’s feelings—that we don’t name the elephant in the room.”

Dane grinned. “The elephant in the room—you’re referring to Republicans?”

I shook my head and fought a smile. “Democrats too. Maybe I should’ve said the donkey in the room.”

“I
want
to keep talking,” Dane said. “We need to figure this shit out. Luz, tell me what to do.”

She blinked quickly, like she was startled he’d asked her that. “Um…” She looked at me, then back at Dane. “You could start by not calling my brother racist when he says something you don’t like?”

“Done.” He nodded, then looked at me. “I truly am sorry, dude. I promise not to call you racist—unless you deserve it, that is.”

His apology impressed me. But as my eyes fell on Maddie’s empty chair, my smile faded. I sensed I had some apologizing to do as well.

The SUV pulled up to what I assumed was Maddie’s apartment building. We’d already dropped off Dane, and now it was just the three of us with our agents. Maddie hadn’t said much when she’d returned to the table, and she remained aloof as she opened the car door. “Bye, guys.”

“Wait.” I scooted closer to her. “I’ll walk you in.”

Brad opened his door, preparing to follow us.

Maddie paused. “No worries,” she said. “Don’t want to make a big production.”

I frowned. “And
I
don’t want Secret Service to kill chivalry. C’mon, I’ll walk you.” When I scooted over again, she sighed.

“Fine.”

Her clipped tone made my heart thump. Why was she angry with me? I glanced at Lucia before I climbed out, and she seemed equally perplexed.

I jammed my hands in my coat pockets as I followed Maddie to her building. My breath practically turned to ice crystals as I exhaled, and I wondered why anyone would want to live here. Baltimore was way colder than Houston, but nowhere near as bad as the Midwest. Brad remained a respectful distance behind us.

We went inside and in no time arrived at her door. Maddie almost had her key in the lock when I said, “Wait.” She kept looking down. “Please?”

“It was good meeting you.” Her voice shook.

“Maddie?” She still wouldn’t look at me. “I think I hurt your feelings back there, and I, I’m really sorry.”

She looked up at me as a tear slid down her face.

No!
“I did. I did hurt your feelings. Oh, Maddie, please forgive me. I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m a total mess—”

“No, you were fine. It’s me who’s the mess.” She swiped the back of her hand across her cheek. “I never cry like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

I huffed out a breath, disgusted with myself. “I have that effect on women, apparently.”

“I should’ve stayed home. I knew I’d only bring people down tonight.”

“You didn’t bring
me
down. If anything, I was the one darkening everyone’s moods. I shouldn’t have said anything about black people—I clearly should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“You have
no
idea what it’s like to be black in this culture,” she said sharply. Then her voice softened. “But you’re right about growing up in a single-parent household. It’s not easy.”

My eyebrows drew together. She’d said her dad had stayed, right? “What do you mean? I thought…” My heart seized when a sob escaped her throat.

She clasped her hand over her mouth as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Gotta go.” She turned the key and darted inside before I could stop her. “Tell your sister thanks.” Then the door closed.

I looked at Brad, who shrugged.

What the hell just happened?
I closed my eyes as I exhaled. “Good job,
imbécil
.”

Chapter Five

I
T
H
AD
B
EEN
T
HREE
W
HOLE
W
EEKS
now since Jaylon had broken up with me, and I still dissolved into tears every time I thought of him. Feminists everywhere were likely peering down their noses at my pathetic response to a simple breakup. Where was my cheerful disposition? My competitive fire? Those had disappeared along with my dignity.

And how embarrassing that I’d cried in front of Alejandro not once, but twice. I wished I could’ve been stronger around him, though I wasn’t sure why I cared so much about his opinion of me. He’d seen me at my worst two weeks ago, and he must have thought I was a delicate little flower. No wonder he’d questioned whether I could make it as a doctor.

As I stared at the incomplete p-chem lab report on my laptop, I had the same doubts about my abilities. We’d studied phase transitions in the lab yesterday, melting a chemical from solid to liquid, and I couldn’t help but compare that little glob of gallium to my own life. If all went as planned, soon I’d transition from student to adult, from college volleyball to the national team. But I’d already phased from coupled to single, and the resulting loneliness felt shaky and ungrounded. I brushed some tears off my cheeks. From solid to liquid.

I yawned and rubbed my bleary eyes. Then I looked at my phone and freaked out at the time. I’d frittered away the entire afternoon, and the lab report wasn’t even half done. I shut my laptop and flew into my bedroom to grab my keys. The report was due tomorrow, but I’d have to finish it later. Volleyball practice awaited.

My heart pounded when I walked into an empty locker room. I wasn’t
that
late, was I? I stripped off my street clothes and tugged on Spandex shorts, which felt a little looser than normal. I heard balls bouncing on the gym floor, and I prayed warm-up hadn’t already begun. As I leaned over to lace up my shoes over my ankle braces, one shoelace snapped. I looked at the frayed piece of string hanging limply in my hand and burst into tears.

“What’s your
deal?”

I looked up to find Nina.
Awesome
. Our cool, blond setter was hardly the best teammate to provide emotional support.

“Just having one of those days,” I muttered as I unlaced two eyes so I could tie my shoe with the shorter lace.

Nina continued to stare while I threw a Highbanks T-shirt over my sports bra. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry.”

“Yeah?” I sniffed. “Well, stick around. That’s all I do these days.” I headed for the door. “You coming?”

“Oh!” She jumped. “Forgot I came in to grab my playbook.” She lunged for the binder in her locker and jogged to the gym behind me.

“You’re leading warm-up today?” I asked over my shoulder. Coach made the team captains take on a leadership role during the winter months.

“Yep.” She came up next to me and set the binder down on the bleachers. “Get ready for a tough one today, Brooks.” She took off for the net.

I smiled as I stifled a groan.
Not today
. My fake smile vanished as Coach Holter marched toward me with narrowed eyes.

“You’re late, Madison.”

I glanced at the clock and saw one minute remaining until practice began. That meant I was fourteen minutes late by Coach’s standards. “Sorry.”

“You know, I don’t have to let you practice with us this winter. I’m doing you a favor.”

I nodded. I’d gotten this same speech last week when I stunk up the gym with my horrible play, but I wasn’t about to point out that he was repeating himself. Nina started the team on a warm-up jog around the gym, and Lucia kept glancing my direction.

“But I do want you here,” Coach said, and I noticed his hard gaze had softened a touch. “That is, if you play the way I know you’re capable of playing. And the past two weeks—after you missed a whole week of practice—hasn’t been it.”

“You’re right.”
Thanks, Jaylon. Thanks for messing up volleyball, too.

“I’ve given you some leeway because of all you’ve done for our program.” He rubbed his jaw as he watched the team finish their jog and move to the center of the court. After a moment my teammates shuffled down the net, jumping to block every few feet.

“But if you want to keep practicing with us, and if you want a shot in hell at making Team USA, you have to be all in. No more showing up late. No more missing practice. I want you here—mind, body, and spirit.”

My stomach clenched. I didn’t know if I had it in me to give him what he wanted. Normally a speech like this would fire me up, but I hadn’t slept well last night, or the night before. All I wanted was to go home and take a nap.

“You’re still a leader on this team,” Coach said.

Nina’s screechy voice filled the gym. “You can do better than that, Kaitlyn!” I watched the short, black-haired defense specialist smirk at Nina before she executed a flawless roll—a sideways somersault that propelled her back on her feet after diving for the ball.
Oh, no
. Lucia hated practicing rolls. I looked over to see her long legs emerge from a somersault and thrust her to her feet.
Not bad
. She’d definitely gotten faster at the maneuver over the past few months. Still, Lucia aimed a death stare at Nina, who shouted, “Ten! I want ten perfect rolls!”

Coach’s voice lowered. “And a better leader than Nina.”

I caught a rare smile from him.

“Maybe we can petition the NCAA to get you one more season?” His eyebrow arched.

“Nina’s your captain next year, Coach.” She’d be a senior and the starting setter when next season started in the fall. I mustered a sympathetic smile. “No one can save you from that.” I jogged to the court to join the warm-up from hell.

About an hour later, we practiced defending cross-court hits. I stood at the center of the net in my typical middle-blocker position with Nina and Lucia on the opposite side of the net. Our assistant coach, Kara, tossed a ball to Nina, who set it to Lucia on my left. I shuffled left to join my teammate Brianna in a double block against Lucia. But somehow her spike careened through our hands yet again.

Typically I loved trying to block Rez’s zinger lefty spikes. But today I felt helpless. Even knowing Lucia would hit the ball at an angle across the court, right toward my block, I struggled to reach my spot in time. My timing on jumps also felt messed up.

When Kara tossed the next ball, I cheated a little to my left before Nina launched her set that direction.
I’m getting this one, damn it
. I sensed Brianna at my side and watched Lucia’s midsection, leaping when she did with my hands firm over the net. Brianna also jumped for the double block. The play ended all too quickly, and when I came back down I swiveled right to see Lucia’s hit zoom to the floor just inside the court. My block hadn’t even touched the ball, and her hit had such a vicious angle that Kaitlyn didn’t have a chance to dig it. Point to the opponent.

I rested my hands on my knees as I sucked in air. My head felt light and wobbly, and I shook it to get back on track.

“That was one of the worst blocks I’ve ever seen,” Coach said.

I closed my eyes.
He’s right
.

“Get in sync, Madison and Brianna. Tighten up that block. Again.”

I pulled myself up and returned to the middle of the net. I managed to get my hands on Lucia’s next hit, but the ball rolled off my fingertips and flew off court, where Kaitlyn was unable to save it.

“Firm up that block, Madison.”

I nodded at Coach as I panted.

“Water break!” he hollered.

Thank God
. I realized my legs trembled as I walked toward my Gatorade bottle. What the hell was my problem?

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