"You signed us up for a beach volleyball tournament!?!?"
Whitley didn't feel guilty for what she'd done, though her lack of guilt gave her a little pause. She struggled not to crack a smile as Koga read her the riot act for the first half-hour of their three-hour drive back to Northshore. Koga hit the classics ("I have never in my life met someone as brash and selfish as you."), brought in some recent hits ("You're impulsive. You're self-destructive. And just plain rude!"), and even busted out some original material ("To think I actually once admired you for your selflessness!"). As the haze of Whitley's food coma waned, she tuned back in and took in the last of Koga's tirade.
"...and you have to know it takes months, if not years to build the kind of chemistry and communication it takes to succeed at this level! You think this is how to start that relationship? Why would I team up with someone so self-centered and reckless?"
"Thanks again for helping get me hired as co-assistant coach, by the way."
This set Koga off again. Even in the heat of the season, Whitley had never seen Koga so fired up. She wondered if she would see it on the court. This girl has 'future head coach' written all over her. She'd wear the full suit—definitely full suit—probably brown with a splash of color underneath. She'd wear her hair in one of those power buns and pace back and forth. She'd have that let's-build-a-family attitude publicly, the you-can-do-this in practice, and do-it-or-else on the sidelines in game.
"I mean, you could have just asked me!" Koga said.
"I know, but it's more fun this way."
Koga suddenly snickered.
"What's funny about that?" said Whitley.
"Your roommates are rubbing off on you."
Whitley scowled; Koga grinned. They spent the remainder of the drive home talking business and strategy. They agreed to follow the same practice schedule as the team did during the season and strategically bring in some of their players for practice and scrimmage. By the time they arrived at Koga's apartment, Whitley's edible had worn off to the point she felt comfortable driving the couple miles back home. Pulling into the back driveway, she found Alicia laying on her back in the grass wearing cat-ear headphones, workout clothes, and no shoes. Squinting into the sunlight, Alicia gazed up at Whitley. "Well, it's a girl. I can tell that much for sure."
Whitley stepped closer, her long shadow shielding Alicia from the setting sun. "Hey, you."
"You look, like, a hundred feet tall."
"I assume you enjoyed your cookie half."
Alicia removed her headphones. "Krysta had her own plans today."
"So, you didn't take it."
"We didn't share it," Alicia said, her eyes drifting back to the dusk sky. It'd been a while since Whitley had seen Alicia so still.
"You have must have had quite a day."
Alicia nodded. "I'm still coming down. Been out here for the last couple hours just...thinking." She reached her hand up and Whitley accepted it, intending to help her to her feet. Instead, Alicia tugged Whitley down to the ground next to her. Obliging, Whitley settled into the grass and lit up a joint she'd stashed in her jacket pocket. She took several puffs and offered some to Alicia, who declined and continued staring upward.
“I benched 305 today," Alicia said.
“Damn,” Whitley croaked as she exhaled another hit. "Even I know that's a big deal, and I don't lift. Gotta be close to some kind of record, yeah?"
"Record is 317 or 330, depending on my weight class. I don't know since I don't weigh myself. Measuring is more fun."
"So, you think you could bench 317?"
Alicia sighed. “I was doing reps with 305. I know I can bench 330."
"I figure that'd make you happy."
Alicia paused. "Whitley, how tall are you?"
"7’2” and a bit."
"And the world record is…"
"7’3."
"Don’t you care?"
"No, because it’s not an accomplishment. It's just an abnormality. You actually worked for your record."
"I did, but not very hard."
Whitley chuckled. "Only you."
"Whitley, I love lifting. I love cosplay and cooking too, but I don't do any of that to be the best at it. I like getting stronger, but I don't really care about being the strongest.
"I bet some of your followers do. I know mine are pulling for me to be the tallest woman ever. It can get a little tiring."
"I get why it matters to them. Thing is, it's not my fans I'm worried about. It's the women who push themselves way harder than me because that record is everything to them. It's just not important to me. I could've broken the record months ago, but it never even crossed my mind."
Alicia sighed again. Whitley glanced around for Krysta, who she figured would have an elegant way of getting out of this conversation. Krysta's car was in the driveway, but the lights were off inside and it would be too early for her to be in bed. Whitley took her time hitting her joint once more before snuffing it out and saving the rest for later.
"Look, Alicia. Whatever it is you do, a lot of people like it. Maybe it’s 'cause you’re super strong. Maybe it’s your muscles. Maybe it's your cosplay. In the end, though, you’re being plenty you and your personality is bigger than your muscles and your cosplay. Just keep doing all that stuff because...I don't know. It works and you're good at it and people like it."
"Sure," Alicia said. "And this is why I don’t care about breaking the record." Alicia chortled and Whitley followed suit and their giggles snowballed into raucous laughter. Their laughter gradually abated into giggles. Alicia rolled over and wrapped an arm around Whitley's torso, giving her a squeeze. Acknowledging she would have a difficult time squirming out of Alicia's grip, Whitley did not resist.
"The only reason I'm letting you do this is because you're stoned as all fuck."
Alicia was quiet for a moment. "Would it ruin the moment if I said I'm not?"
"I thought you said you ate the whole thing?"
"No, I said 'Krysta didn't share.' She took the whole thing."
"So if you're not stoned, what the hell is wrong with you?"
"I just finished watching Paprika."
"And that made you lay spaced out in the grass?"
"Oh, totally. There's this one line: 'dreams and the internet are both where the repressed conscious mind vents?'" Alicia mimed her head exploding with one hand before wrapping it back around Whitley and snuggling her face into her side. "You're so comfy!"
"Yeah, I get that a lot. Look, I'm gonna let this slide for now, but just...no pictures, okay?”
"Deal," Alicia said.
"No Deal."
A flash went off. Alicia and Whitley looked up to see a conspicuously bra-less Krysta wearing a large baggy t-shirt, a pair of sleeping shorts, and her flip-flops. She nodded with approval at the picture she'd taken and sat down on the opposite side of Whitley from Alicia. The front door opened and a whistling young man walked out, down the porch steps and to his car. Krysta waved as he drove away and he waved back.
"Dang, you can see his smile from here," Alicia said.
"Look at Miss I-just-had-sex over here!" Whitley hooted and raised her hand for a high five which Krysta obliged. "So you got baked then got laid?"
"In short, yes. Alicia turned down her half of the cookie, so I offered it to someone else who I thought would like it."
"Viiiinnnnce," Alicia purred, squeezing closer into Whitley's side.
"He partakes occasionally, but prefers edibles."
Whitley scratched her chin. "Good to know. So you're done being worried about him being 'too young?'" She punctuated with air quotes.
"He turned twenty-three in January, which means we would have been in high school at the same time. That is the textbook definition of 'around my age.'"
"Krysta's afraid of getting old," Alicia drawled.
"No, I am afraid of seeming old. And that is different entirely."
"Okay," Whitley interjected. "I'm not ashamed to ask this and I KNOW Alicia isn't so, how'd it go down?"
Krysta grinned. "I would not have come out here if I were unwilling to gossip. We split your cookie and got incredibly stoned while watching Netflix. So we paused it and had sex."
"In the freakin' living room," Alicia finished.
"I have no regrets and would do it again." Krysta looked up thoughtfully. "Which would technically make three times."
Whitley rolled her eyes. And Koga said they're rubbing off on me. "That's fair. You do own the place, after all. So, is this new relationship of yours headed anywhere?"
"My lifestyle and schedule are not conducive to a 'relationship.' I would, however, be willing to do this on a regular basis. Not in the living room, mind you. Maybe the shower."
Whitley slapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh my God, Krysta. You said that while you were doing it, didn't you?"
"No, I waited post-coitus, when I was all sweaty and out-of-breath. Come on, I am a professional webcam model. I know about timing."
"And he said?"
"I'm down," Krysta said emulating Vincent's voice and accent.
"Is he Vietnamese too?" Alicia asked.
"Filipino. Moved here when he was in grade school."
"So, while you were sharing life stories, did you tell him you're an online tits model?"
"That did come up, about a minute after I decided I really wanted to have sex."
Whitley shook her head. "God, you'd be a nightmare in a relationship. So hey, question. We were just talking about life and—"
"Alicia's breaking the bench press record."
"Not gonna ask how you knew that. So, have you ever met someone with tits bigger than yours?"
"I have."
"Vixxgamer?" Alicia asked.
"She is not bigger than me, yet."
"That one girl with the freckles. Jessica_80085?"
"I met her post-reduction."
"CaraBear?"
"Artificially enhanced do not count in this case."
"Leanne Crow."
"You are just making up people now."
Whitley propped her head up. "Alicia, how do you know so many tits models?"
"Photographers and Instagram."
"To answer your question," Krysta said. "It was a lady with her kids I saw her in the Target parking lot on my cross-country move to Northshore after college. She was attractive, probably early to mid-thirties. A little taller and a little heavier than me, but not much. She had a tank top on and she filled it out like sports bra. They were absolutely titanic and probably a nightmare on her back, but she had good posture and carried them well. I always expect pictures of her to show up on the forums, but, to my knowledge, it has never happened. I am glad. She does not need that."
Whitley nodded. "So, do you want to have the biggest boobs?"
"No. I would rather be the best at what I do."
Alicia snickered. "Wow, that's kinda like what Whitley said but, like, way shorter."
"Alicia, I swear to God if you don't let go of me right now…"