You compete in a tournament. How does 9 do cheer you on?
I positioned myself on the volleyball court, eyeing my competition on the other end. They looked tough… real tough… but I was too, since I had done so much training with Danny, Sam, Tucker, and occasionally Jazz when she wasn't going into some psychotherapeutic analyzing craze… which was rare.
It was the other team's turn to serve, so I prepped myself as the tall blonde grabbed a hold of the volleyball, bouncing it a few times on the ground before getting ready to serve. I looked at my team members, who nodded in unison, getting ready for the ball to come flying over the net. The blonde's wrist hit the white ball with a smack, and it swung over the net, heading right for me. It was a clear shot…
"GIVE ME AN 'S'!"
I jumped at the sudden and very loud noise, missing the ball- which, by the way, was the easiest shot in the world- completely.
"GIVE ME AN 'E'!" The other team snickered while my own team members sighed. I looked to the crowd to see who the voice was… although I had a pretty good idea…
"GIVE ME AN 'R'!" There he was, Jack Fenton, covered in all sorts of equipment from the gift shop nearby. He even had… wait… was that a giant head of me?! Where did he even get that?!
"GIVE ME AN 'E'!" The whistle blew as no one acknowledged the crazy ghost hunter chanting my name. I tried not to acknowledge him either, blushing the entire time.
"GIVE ME AN 'N'!" I gritted my teeth, turning towards the big man in the orange jumpsuit.
"WHAT DOES THAT SPELL?! SEREN!"
I called my coach to have her swap me out with another player- for which she completely understood- and went to the bathroom, fuming.
That's it… I thought to myself. This is the last time I'm inviting the Fentons to a volleyball game…