Hunting Sunsets

Eight

My white sneakers grinded against against the rough hard court painted blue and white, the smell of faint rubber and the sound of air ventilation humming in the background. The lime green ball echoed in my ears as the face of the racquet made contact, a powerful serve ripping through my arm. The sphere blurred in mid air, bouncing in the right service box and hurling itself at the man in a black shirt across from me. The tennis ball made contact with his black and green racquet, my own shooting it back right before the right most edge of the singles sideline as his long arms extended to try and reach it in time.

"You actually returned my serve this time!" I shouted a tease with a genuine smile across the empty indoor courts on campus. We were closest to the long and the observation windows above the lower elevation courts, with six others to our right.

Smith reached into his pocket for another ball, tossing it up and serving it right at me. I yelped, barely dodging the shot meant to hit my torso. My light brown eyes narrowed at him critically while I brushed the shorter strand of strawberry blond hair hanging out of my ponytail behind my ear as it framed my face. "You're not supposed to kill your opponents! That's kind of against the rules!" I hollered back at him.

"It's not trying to kill you if I suck at it. That's like trying to shot you with an empty chamber."

"I don't think that's how it works."

"It definitely is."

I rolled my eyes at his argument before serving another ball in his direction and watching it fly past Smith despite his quick reflexes. "Why do you even make me do this? You might as well play against the wall and get the same, if not better, practice in."

"I can't utterly humiliate the wall."

"Well I'm sorry I can't hold up against the forty seventh best female tennis player in the world," Smith scoffed with an eye roll while picking up the two balls I had gotten past him.

"Forty sixth, actually. I had 1,237 points last season."

"I'm sorry I can't memorize the top two hundred down to a perfect science. I just know you're good and you can make money. That's about it." Forty something might not seem that great but it really is considering most rankings went into the eight hundreds. Top six percent of the worlds best tennis players, Baby. "But to be fair, I would destroy you in volleyball."

"You know how you make me run with you at six in the morning if you're not too busy fucking me? This is revenge for that. And making me lift weight with you and Jake. Really, this is the culmination of multiple things you force to to do and I find solace in revenge," I taunted him with a shrug, placing my red and black Yonex racquet in my maroon backpack with my backup one.

"I'm sorry I try to spend time with you," Smith drawled back defensively while tossing the two balls at me a near two seconds apart. I caught them easily, plopping them in my bag against the white bench.

"Mhm," I hummed with a smirk on my lips. "Is that what you were doing friday night?" I picked up my bag as Smith did the same, his figure following mine as I crossed the court.

"Is that jealously I hear?" He teased back.

"Don't flatter yourself, Kyoh. It's a joke; wasn't jealous when you fucked that bitch on the lacrosse team last month and I'm not jealous now," I quipped back honestly, sitting on the white plastic bench to change out of my white tennis shoes and into my normal black sneakers.

"And I wasn't jealous when you fucked her two weeks before me," he added with an amused tone, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

"Kinky choice for you," I smirked while pulling off my left shoe and putting the black Nike on. Would I ever have a threesome with Smith? Probably not, to be completely honest. We would all have to be friends with benefits or a one night stand and that was just too complicated. I was more than satisfied with what my brother's best friend could give me. But who knows? The time had yet to come.