Date: Tue, 11 Mar 2003 10:03:36 +0000
From: Eric Shaw <volleyboy26@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Beautiful Run: Chapter 7

"Nice swing, Mike."
"Forget the hit, that set had no spin on it. It was awesome"
I walked into the gymnasium to see our captain Mike, follow the ball he just
hit as it rolled toward the door where I stood. I often made the effort to
come to volleyball practice a few minutes early to warm up, and today was no
exception. I looked around what I thought was the relatively empty court to
find someone taking sips of water off to the side. Andrew York had short
blond hair and piercing blue eyes. His smooth face was well defined and his
pink lips were as plump as ripe fruit. True to how I remembered him from the
year before, he stood a few inches taller than me and his body was
picturesque to say the least. A year older, Andrew was a senior at school,
commanding all of the respect the older students were often given, and then
some. He was remarkably popular throughout the school, inevitably as
Athletic Council president and an honour roll student. He was simply
incredible.
Mike walked back onto the court as Andrew took his position closer to the
net. Being tossed the ball, Andrew set. His strong arms commanding it into
the air with complete ease, his presence took dominance over the court. I
watched being completely overcome with awe, until Mike spoke.
"Hey Con, have you met Andrew?" He asked. I smiled to acknowledge him and
blushed without saying a word. Throughout high school I appreciated Andrew
for his beauty as much as his volleyball skills, both of which were
legendary. "Now that he's back, he's our starting setter". I hadn't realized
that Andrew was absent from the team for the past week, considering the new
relationship with my other athletic object of desire had taken a surprising
turn toward reality.
"Back from where?" I asked with newfound confidence. The thought of Eric
made me more assertive and less the bashful admirer I once was.
"I took some time looking at schools on the West Coast." Andrew answered.
"Yeah, this guy has been fighting off the scouts with a stick." Mike
enthusiastically pointed out, with much the same savvy as an auctioneer.
"Not exactly, but I've been considering a few offers" Andrew said modestly.
"It's Connor, right?"
"Yeah" I confirmed.
"Well I glad you're playing senior this year. We haven't had someone with
your skills at weak-side, for ages it seems."
Once the practice began and Andrew was reintroduced to the team, Coach
Armstrong proposed the idea of simulating a real game situation by dividing
up the players. Andrew was chosen as a captain for one side, while Coach
Armstrong decided to choose the other team himself. Given first choice,
Andrew took a few moments to contemplate and review the players. Mike, the
team captain, was the most obvious choice as Andrew stared down deeply at
him. Lowering himself onto the balls of his feet and supporting his elbows
with his knees, they closely faced one another. "Connor" Andrew said.
Creating a stir among the players, especially with his teasing of Mike,
Andrew picked me to my disbelief over the returning senior players. After
chuckling loudly over Andrew's little game, Coach Armstrong picked Mike, and
the process continued until the last player found a place on either side of
the court.
From the first play, Andrew began to set the ball often to me. His knowledge
of the court and exactly where the players
were positioned made his play effortless. Without so much as mentioning it
Andrew knew how to set the ball to where I needed it, establishing an
instantaneous dynamic between us. I attacked the ball quicker and harder
than I ever thought possible, and as the practice progressed we all were
increasingly wound up with my work on the court, all except Andrew who
remained calm after every play. Oddly enough, he smacked my rear a few times
in between rotations, well after the reactions subsided.
A few minutes before we were scheduled to end the practice, Andrew leaned in
and whispered in my ear.
"Once the ball is passed to me, just start your approach for a quick shoot"
"Wait, shoots are way too fast and low to the net and I've never even tried
one" I said reluctantly.
Before I was able to continue with my protest, Andrew got his hands on the
ball and I approached the spike with a jump towards the net. The set sped
across the top of the net and right into my hand as I swung. The ball hit
the floor almost instantaneously in front of Mike, who stood there shielding
himself from the oncoming ball. There came a cheer sounding loudly
throughout the gym. Coach Armstrong blew his whistle, signaling for the
practice to finish. I motioned to Andrew. "That set was amazing. In fact,
all of your sets have just been perfect for me." I said.
"See Con, just trust me. I know exactly what you need." He replied, tousling
my hair and slapping my rear before walking away toward the locker rooms.
* * *
Friday morning I gathered my gym bag and began to throw in some of my
volleyball things. My trainers, knee pads and ankle brace were already
packed when I collected my uniform from the dryer before entering the
kitchen. Knowing that I could possibly have a long day ahead, I packed a
lunch with some sandwiches, fruit, granola bars and enough water for a
week-long trek through the Brazilian Amazon, much less a volleyball
tournament. Before long, I heard the door bell ring and brought my things
when I went to answer it. Standing there was Eric in all his glory. Wearing
a Mayfield sweatshirt over his uniform, his long legs were exposed by a pair
of running shorts.
"Mr. Webb, are you trying to seduce me?" I asked.
"Well is it working? I dolled myself up for a special lady." He said, before
kissing my cheek and nuzzling his face in the nape of my neck. He closed the
door behind him and waited as I tied my shoes and closed the last zippers on
my bag. Eric took the bag from my hands and swung it over one of his strong
shoulders. Leaving one hand free of use, this allowed him to pull me into an
embrace. Eric teased me, lightly licking my top lip a few times until
finally our mouths met. I sank into his arms, enveloping myself entirely in
his strength. He led me up against a wall, my hands working their way up his
sweatshirt stroking his back. Our passion began to intensify when we heard
the beeping of Eric's watch, indicating the turn of the eighth hour. I began
to laugh at our inability to control ourselves and slightly sank downward
along the wall. I caught a few breaths of air as I rested my forehead on his
chest, running my hands along the back of his thighs.
The night before, Eric insisted on driving me to the volleyball tournament
before his morning race. I modestly tried to refuse to save him the trouble,
but the truth was I wanted to see him. He was able to see clearly through my
façade without any effort whatsoever, and considering our
morning greeting, I was glad he could.
We drove to the neighboring school holding the tournament, and along the way
I couldn't stop my hand from riding up the side of Eric's little shorts.
"Well Mr. Webb, I was not aware that we were going camping this morning,
because it's obvious that you've already started pitching a tent" I said.
Eric could only laugh bashfully before drawing me closer to him, resting my
body to his side with his arm over my shoulders. Considering the park where
Eric would be running his race was not far from the tournament, I thought it
best to stop myself especially when his shorts already left little to the
imagination. He soon parked the car beside one of the school's more discrete
side entrances.
"My little man is looking quite the athlete this morning. Well, you sure
know how to make me work up a sweat!" Eric said. He kissed my hand and
rubbing it between his.
"Good luck today" I said. "You've worked so hard for this, and that medal is
yours to take. Just go show everyone what you can do."
Eric smiled and looked deeply into my eyes.
"I've always known you to be remarkable, long before we were together.
You're an amazing player, and I may be a bit biased, but you're the best one
on the team. Just remember that you play volleyball because you love it,
which is precisely the reason why you're so great. Get on that court and
show them a few things!"
We kissed for a few moments before I had to leave. After gathering my things
I began to get out of the car. Eric grabbed my waist and gave me a kiss my
left shoulder and another on my neck. I smiled at him after getting out of
the car, and walked into the school.
* * *
"Ok guys, this last game can go pretty much either way. The other team has
serve, and we just need this last point to win. This is going to be intense,
so let's just slow this play down and show some control. We have this!" With
those words from Coach Armstrong, the referee blew the whistle. The server
from the other team threw the ball and hit it in the air. It came over the
net onto our side with great speed. Mike planted his feet, easing the force
of the ball as he passed it to Andrew. Facing away from me, he called
"Back!" and set the ball in my direction. I approached the net, using my
arms to garner momentum when I jumped. I swung my arm, snapping my wrist
when I felt the ball on my hand. The next thing I remembered was hearing the
referee blow his whistle twice with long breaths. I won the game. I stood
there, not exactly sure of what just happened, when I saw Andrew turn around
and throw his arms over me. The rest of our team on the court and bench
surrounded me cheering, but I could only feel Andrew pulling me in closer
and grinding himself into me before raising me over his strong shoulders.
After much of the excitement had subsided and our team was given medals, we
were announced as tournament champions. The moment was thrilling, but it
seemed to be lacking something. I soon realized that it wasn't something as
much as it was someone- Eric. I wanted to share my entire life with this
boy, and this moment stood out considering it was pretty lively.
The team shared a few laughs and replays while we gathered our things. My
hitting throughout the day was of particular interest to the team, as I was
often given congratulatory pats on the back. The dynamic that Andrew and I
shared on the court over the last few practices translated well for
the tournament, and I realized this after it was pointed out by the coach.
"Good work boys. I'll remember to keep you two together on court from now
on." With that, he wished the team a good weekend, and left the gym on his
way home.
"Have a ride, Connor?" Andrew asked.
"Yeah, I'll call my parents."
"No need, I'll give you a ride" He said.
Andrew and I spent some time stretching out after the tiring day, and once
our bodies began to feel some relief, we headed for his car. At this point,
all the players had left, and the parking lot was left abandoned. I followed
Andrew to his jeep and he unlocked the back door to let me throw my things
in. I proceeded to move toward the front passenger door, but Andrew was
blocking it, seemingly without any intention of moving.
"You know, you're a great player" He said.
"You're not so bad yourself" I replied.
"Well, let's see if I can show you a few things"
"What do you mean?"
"Um, I feel like celebrating. Interested in attending a party of two?" he
asked, harshly pulling me toward him and putting his lips on mine. I was in
a state of utter disbelief.
"Stop it!" was all I could verbalize trying to push him away. Andrew took no
notice and continued with his advances. He was rubbing my waist and thighs
with his hands, and I could not overpower him. Suddenly, I felt him being
pulled away. Eric appeared as I opened my eyes, and I saw him grab a hold of
Andrew by the arm. "Hey, get off of him!" I heard him say, before hitting
him in the cheek. Andrew fell to the ground, laying there in time for Eric
to grab my things from the back of the jeep and lead me away with his arm
around my shoulders. I was safe.

"Are you ok?" Eric asked. "Now that you're here"
"I'm just glad that I could help"
"And that you did!"
Once in Eric's car, we heard the sound of Andrew's jeep "squeal" out of the
parking lot. The thought of what had happened made me shudder as the sound
served as a grim reminder. I looked up at Eric with frail eyes. Wiping my
tears with his thumbs and holding my face in his hands, he kissed my
forehead as a gesture of support. Clearing my vision, I looked at Eric with
eyes of love and appreciation. I then took notice of medal hanging around
his neck. I held it, reading the inscription: Senior boys Cross Country
Champion, Pine Hills Invitational. I looked up at him and smiled, wrapping
my arms around him. Indeed, Eric was my champion.