Page 6

five

. . .

Avery

Later in the day, I’m sitting in a lounge chair under a striped umbrella, trying to read a book in Spanish while a group of my classmates whoops and hollers around a makeshift volleyball court. Griffin, of course, is leading the charge, shirtless and grinning like he owns the place.

And, okay, fine. Objectively speaking? He looks good. Annoyingly, ridiculously good.

His broad shoulders glisten in the sunlight, his shredded abs flexing with every movement as he spikes the ball into the sand. There’s a V-line carved into his torso that looks photoshopped, and when he laughs, the sound carries over the crash of the waves, deep and easy.

It’s maddening. Griffin has always been magnetic, self-assured, and infuriatingly unaware of how he affects people.

“Come on, man, you’ve gotta hit that harder!” Griffin yells, hyping up his teammates like he’s their personal coach.

I groan, lowering my book. I was planning to spend this afternoon relaxing, but the combination of noise and Griffin’s overwhelming presence is impossible to ignore.

“Avery!” someone yells.

I glance up just in time to see a volleyball hurtling straight toward me.

It smacks into my book, sending it tumbling onto the sand.

“Seriously?” I snap, grabbing the ball and standing up.

Griffin jogs over, grinning like the whole thing is hilarious. “Sorry about that, Princess. Friendly fire. You know I would never blemish that face on purpose.”

“Don’t call me that,” I mutter, brushing sand off my book.

“Maybe you should join us,” he says, holding out his hand for the ball.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Oh, come on,” he says, stepping closer. “What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll lose?”

I narrow my eyes. “I’m afraid you’ll lose and embarrass yourself.”

His grin widens. “Prove it.”

Before I can think better of it, I peel off my T-shirt and shorts, revealing my white-and-blue polka-dot bikini. I hear a low whistle from somewhere—probably Griffin—but I ignore it, kicking off my sandals and stepping onto the court.

“Alright, folks, we’ve got a new player!” Griffin announces, clapping his hands.

“I’m not here to be part of your show,” I mutter, taking a spot on the opposite team, next to Jake.

“You better bring it,” Griffin says, winking as he serves the ball.

The game starts fast and chaotic, with laughter and cheers echoing across the beach. Jake, who turns out to be surprisingly good, sets me up for a solid spike in the third volley.

“Nice, Avery!” he says, clapping me on the back.

I glance across the net at Griffin, who looks impressed despite himself.

“What’s the matter, Knox?” I call out, smirking. “Losing your edge?”

“Not a chance,” he fires back, his grin sharpening.

The game picks up intensity, the teams going back and forth with quick volleys and near saves. Jake nudges me after one particularly close rally.

“Okay, I’ll admit it,” he says, gesturing toward Griffin, who’s now calling plays with his teammates. “That man is a Greek god. Have you seen his abs? Like, seriously, how is that even real?”

“Trust me, I’ve noticed,” I mutter, setting up for the next serve.

Jake snickers. “You know, I think he has a crush on you.”

“What?” I nearly miss the ball.

“Oh, come on,” Jake says, raising an eyebrow. “The tension is unreal. It’s like watching a telenovela with beach volleyball.”

“More like a hate crush,” I reply, smacking the ball over the net. “I think he just enjoys torturing me. And I have a boyfriend.”

Jake hums thoughtfully. “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a crush. Ever heard of forbidden fruit? I mean, I have a crush on him, too. He just doesn’t play for my team…if you know what I mean.”

“Focus, Jake,” I mutter as the ball comes back our way.

The final point comes down to a tight rally, and I end it with a well-placed spike past Griffin’s block.

My team erupts in cheers, and Jake high-fives me. “You’re a badass,” he says.

Across the net, Griffin jogs over, shaking his head. “Alright, I’ll admit it,” he says. “You’ve got skills.”

“Better than yours,” I reply, brushing sand off my hands.

He steps closer, his grin softening. For a moment, I think he’s going to say something serious.

“Married couple energy, much?” Jake calls out, snapping the moment in half.

I feel my cheeks heat as Griffin’s grin snaps back into place. “Don’t give her ideas,” he says, winking at me before jogging back to his team.

I roll my eyes and head back to my lounge chair, pretending my pulse isn’t racing.

The fire crackles and pops, sending warm orange sparks into the cool evening air. We’re gathered in a loose circle on the sand, the flames casting flickering shadows over the group. The sky is an inky blue, the stars starting to peek out above the horizon.

It’s beautiful—peaceful, even. And I’d probably be enjoying it if Griffin Knox weren’t sitting directly across from me, smirking like he’s just won some unspoken competition.

Dr. Peterson stands near the fire, her hands clasped in front of her. “I hope everyone enjoyed today,” she says, her voice bright and chipper. “Because starting tomorrow, the fun takes a backseat to learning!”

There’s a collective groan from the group, and she laughs. “I’m serious! Classes at the Spanish Language Institute in town begin promptly at 8 a.m. I expect everyone to be there on time and ready to focus.”

“Define ‘on time,’” Griffin pipes up, his grin widening when a few classmates laugh. “I was thinking we could all go out to the club tonight for a little salsa, if you know what I mean.”

“On time,” Dr. Peterson replies sharply, “means you’re in your seat before the clock strikes eight. Got it, Mr. Knox?”

“Got it,” he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “No salsa tonight. I really think cultural exchange is a key part of this experience, though.”

She shakes her head, smiling despite herself. I hate to admit, as much of a cocky, party-guy persona that Griffin puts up, his intensity is endearing. “Alright, that’s enough from me. Enjoy the rest of your night—but not too much!”

With that, she retreats to one of the lounge chairs by the edge of the circle, leaving us to our own devices.

“So,” Jake says, leaning forward. “What was everyone’s favorite part of the day?”

“The food,” a girl on our program, Kayla chimes in, earning murmurs of agreement.

“The volleyball game,” Griffin adds, winking in my direction.

I roll my eyes, but before I can respond, one of the girls grins at me. “You were really good, Avery. I didn’t know you could play like that.”

“Neither did I,” I admit, shrugging. “It’s been a while.”

“Don’t be modest,” Griffin says, leaning back on his elbows. “She crushed it. Spiked one right past me. It was impressive. I’m man enough to admit she got the best of me a couple of times.”

I glance at him, suspicious of the compliment, but his expression seems sincere. For once.

“Thanks,” I say cautiously.

He grins. “Don’t get used to it.”

The conversation shifts to other topics—travel plans, favorite music, future goals—and I find myself relaxing a little. The sound of the waves, the warmth of the fire, the easy chatter of the group—it’s nice.

“So, Avery,” Jake asks, drawing my attention back to the circle. “What made you want to come on this trip?”

I hesitate, glancing at the flames. “I wanted to improve my Spanish,” I say finally. “And...I thought it would be a good challenge.”

“And because she’s an overachiever,” Griffin adds, smirking.

I glare at him. “And because it’s a great opportunity.”

The group laughs, and someone else turns the question on Griffin.

“What about you, Knox? Why are you here?”

“To learn Spanish,” he says simply. Then he pauses, his grin fading just slightly. “And because my coach thought I needed to broaden my horizons or whatever. And, you know.To party. I will be salsa dancing at some point.”

His tone is light, but there’s something in his expression—something almost...wistful.

It catches me off guard, and for a moment, I forget to be annoyed with him.

“Alright, alright,” Jake says, breaking the silence. “Let’s lighten the mood. Who wants to tell a story?”

As the group shifts into laughter, I glance at Griffin again. He’s back to his usual self, laughing and joking with the others, but I can’t shake the flicker of something I saw in his eyes.