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“Hey, no,” Aspen spoke. “Don’t do that. You’re playing great.”

“We’re losing by twelve. We have four points.”

“It’s your first season; you’ve made it this far. That’s awesome. And you’ve scored four points on the best team in the world. Not bragging. Just saying. Stay with it,” Aspen said and held her hand under the net. “I’ve been where you are. Stay with it, okay?”

The woman nodded and slapped Aspen’s hand. Aspen went back to serve and hit it into the net. She hadn’t done it on purpose, but she supposed it worked to give the other team a little confidence, and it wasn’t as if they could catch up, so there was no concern there. DJ shanked a pass on a particularly tricky serve then, and the other team got their sixth point and a little pep in their step.

“Shit,” DJ muttered.

“Don’t worry about it. Shake it off. Let’s go,” Aspen said.

They took their ready positions and earned a point. Then, another and another, until they were sitting at their bench, wiping sweat and sand off their skin and downing electrolytes to get ready for the second set.

“They’re not bad,” DJ said as the camera backed off, and they stood to go back on the court.

“Totally,” Aspen agreed. “Next season, they’ll be back here. Let’s still get the win, though. I don’t plan on going home early.” She winked at DJ.

“Not even to hang out with Kendra?” DJ said in her new sing-song teasing voice.

“First of all, no.” Aspen pointed and smiled at her. “Second of all, she’s here, so I don’t need to go home early to see her sooner.”

“But you’re good?” DJ asked.

“Now, DJ? Really?” Aspen chuckled.

“Not like I have to concentrate all that hard on this match.”

“No, don’t do that.” Aspen stood in front of her and covered her mouth in case any camera was on them, which was likely. “Don’t do that,” she repeated. “Practice how you play. We have to have our heads in the game here, DJ. We’ve got Italy next and Berlin. Play like we’re there right now.”

“You’re right,” DJ agreed. “No more shanked passes or service errors.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Aspen held her hands up, and DJ slapped them.

They took their ready positions, waited for the other team to serve, and it was a good serve that hit the line next to Aspen. She’d expected it to go out, but it hadn’t.

“Well, looks like they came to play, too,” DJ said and nodded toward the other team.

“Good,” Aspen replied and readied herself again.

The next serve hit her arms, and she prepared her run-up for the kill, watching where the defender went for that split second before DJ set her up.

“Nobody,” DJ said because the blocker had backed off the net.

Aspen slammed the ball down in the sand between the two players, and the crowd roared at that. Normally, Aspen didn’t even hear the cheering from the stands because she was so engrossed in the match itself, but that time, she heard it, and she smiled. She gave DJ a high five for a great set and looked over the net.

“Nice one,” the player she’d talked to earlier said with a laugh.

“Thanks,” Aspen said with a little laugh and waited for DJ to serve.

They were up fifteen to ten, which meant that this had turned into a real match, and they both had to pay attention, hit their shots, and worry about the details. Aspen loved that. Easy matches weren’t her thing. She wanted the real deal; the chance to get ready for international matches that would determine if she got to represent her country in the Olympic Games, which had been her dream for as long as she could remember. They got the ball back off a great hit by her partner, and Aspen went to serve with six points up now. She checked DJ’s hand signal telling her where she’d be blocking and aimed for the taller of the two partners. The pass was good. The set was good. The kill went straight into DJ’s hands and down into the sand on the other side of the net.

“Hell, yeah!” Aspen said of her partner’s block and high-fived her.

Up by seven, with four points left to earn to win the set and the match, Aspen served a hard jumper that the other team wasn’t ready for since she’d primarily been giving them floaters, and it landed in the sand just inside the line. With them up by eight now and at eighteen points, there wasn’t much the other team could do to win, so Aspen tried another aggressive serve, not worried if she earned an error because it was a chance to test it out. It went to the defender, who shanked it, but the other player managed to dig it out, and they sent a free ball over the net. It went just over the net, though, and DJ was right there to slam it back down.

Two points away from the win, Aspen went aggressive again and earned another ace. While she waited for the ball, she took a moment, which she rarely did, to look around the stands. People usually stood for set and match points, and they were all getting to their feet now, screaming, cheering, and applauding. When she took her spot behind the line again, everything got quiet in anticipation. Aspen rolled the ball around in her hands, waited for the whistle, and then tossed it high, jumped in the air, and smacked the ball hard before she landed in front of the line and hurried to her spot, prepared to cover DJ on the block. The ball didn’t come back over the net, though. They’d won, and they were moving on.

“Hey, good game,” DJ said to the pair across the net.