Those who snap their Christmas crackers as soon as they sit at the table may find this particular seasonal celebration takes a while to get going. And another warning, the clothes stay on in the volleyball. Of course, just as in real life most of the fun happens towards the end of the night... So please stay and enjoy! And if you like it, please vote.
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"I hate you Michael!" Leeza shouted at me from down on her bum on the volleyball court. I wanted to argue it was not my fault. Matt had spiked the ball over the net at my neck, I put my hands up in defence and bang. Leeza was set next to me. The ball skewed off my hand straight into her face. All in a flash. And now she sat there seething, with a hand over her eye.
It had all been so sudden. I stared at her, said nothing. But that's the danger, at least that was my thought. Dazed Leeza stood back up then struggled off the court, still holding the side of her face. The wiry guy no one really liked tittered from the other side of the net. Everyone ignored him. Over on our side, ever sensible Treena went over, picked up the ball and tossed it back over the net. And the five survivors on our side got ready to face the next serve.
We continued on with with the practice game -- it was training -- until our booking for the court ended, a little bit deflated. When I got out of the shower, Matt reminded me that Leeza now hated me. Like it was my fault, not his. It was a shame, she was quite attractive and she was, as far as I knew her, nice. I did look for her afterwards. I knew I should have checked up on her earlier. But I wanted to give her some space.
Treena and Minerva gave me the side eye when I asked if they knew where she was. I felt like asking them what that look was for, but I didn't. I looked around a bit more but guessed that Leeza had already gone. I worried a little about her on my way home. Eventually I got over what was an unfortunate accident. Even after a text from Matt which was, surprise, not supportive. Well Leeza was after all, just another player in our club. We had not spoken much and I did not even have her phone number. I was not surprised to hear no news of her over the next week.
Leeza did not show at all during the week, nor the week after. I said nothing the first week, but thought I better check as time dragged on and asked Minerva how Leeza was. Minerva smiled dangerously at me.
"What?" I asked. Clearly she knew something that I didn't.
"Good to see you care," Minerva scolded me.
"Okay," I conceded, "what have I done?"
"She was a bridesmaid last week," Minerva warned me.
"I didn't know," I replied. Of course I didn't know. Minerva gave me a searching look like I was missing something. "A bridesmaid so?" I asked, wondering.
"Bridesmaid with a black eye," she revealed. And reached for her phone. She flicked through her gallery to show me.
"Doesn't look too bad," I told her after a glance at a posed pic of the bridal party. Leeza looked hot, plunging neckline and a lot of her long legs showing below a high hem to advantage. The problem, I thought, was that she was half a head taller than the rest of bridal party. But Minerva was not finished. She grabbed the phone from me to enlarge Leeza's image, as she gave me a look that said I should have done that myself. I looked again at Leeza's face, now filling the screen. "Okay," I admitted, "it does look bad." The bruise was big and dark. No makeup would conceal that.
But I reduced the image back. And looked again. "The real problem," I tried to intone seriously, "is those flouncy apricot dresses."
Minerva harrumphed like I clearly did not have a clue and grabbed her phone back.
Leeza did return a few weeks later. She kept her distance from me, managed to avoid my attempt to say something when I tried to approach her. So from then I kept my distance too. It was not hard for us to keep out of each other's way. We had three teams, a men's, a women's and a mixed. And when Leeza returned and went back onto the court it was the women's team only. She avoided the mixed, I guess, in case I was there. We passed each at the entrance to the centre. She sneered vaguely in my direction. And I tried to look like I didn't care.
Matt and I had a beer after a game. "What's going on between you two?" he asked.
I looked hard at him. "Uh, what do you think? You caused it," I chided.
"I was just playing the ball," he offered. "Anyway, that's not how she sees it, from what I've heard."
"What have you heard?" I had to ask.
"That you're not her favourite person."
"Well, that's pretty obvious," I could only reply.
"Yeah, but there's more that I heard. The bride's not talking to her. Something about Leeza thoughtlessly getting a black eye to ruin her special day. So there's some carry-over resentment."
And that was how it continued. I do not know if it was a coincidence but for the next while I only ever saw Leeza from the back, in her tight shorts, her long legs walking away from me. It was an impressive sight. But it also seemed to have a 'no trespassing' sign hanging from it. A reminder of what could never be.
As these things happen, Leeza started to fade from the front of my mind. The year rolled on, and I dated a series of decent women. There was some fun there but no spark. Break ups were non-dramatic, kind of just expected and accepted. I had even been away on holiday for a week, had a romance there which had also faded. Which was how I found myself at the volleyball club Xmas wind-up party alone.
