The Inconspicious Twist of Fate

C4

Beginning of Flashback:

On the fourth day of school everything had began to settle. It felt as if it were already halfway through the year.

That day was especially hot, the boys dressed in shorts and tank tops while girls were unjustly forced into jeans and shirts that covered up their distracting shoulders.

The school day was finally over, done with the never ending formulas, anatomy study and grammar rules. Isolde walked out of her after hours french class, carrying a half empty bag on one of her shoulders.

A thousand thoughts ran through her mind, and though the bag was light, Isolde felt a lingering heaviness weigh down her shoulders.

She was wondering if her father picked Ines up from school, and whether or not her mother would be available this weekend.

After checking the time, her lazy movements became more agile as she swept through the halls, switched out bags in her locker and rushed to the gym.

The sun had just begun to set, kissing the sky with warm shades of pinks and oranges. Golden sunlight trickled through the windows and onto the floor underneath her rushed but calculated footsteps. The whole school had a different vibe to it.

It was calm, angst free, the only sound being a distant phone ringing, but the closer she drew to the gym, the more the calm diminished.

Instead, as she pushed open the gray double doors to the gym, different tones of male voices filled the afore silence, while a stench of rubber and sweat hit her across the face.

Just as she'd calculated, she'd arrived early. Maybe even a bit too early.

The boys' volleyball try outs had just ended. Everyone was huddled up around the coach, guffawing at something he'd said, as he smacked one of the sweaty boys' backs playfully.

Isolde quietly made her way to the changing rooms, switching into practice attire.
By the time she came out, the boys were starting to scatter, some leaving straight ahead, others hitting the showers while a few remained on the court.

She headed towards the bleachers, dropping her bag and pulling out her tattered knee pads. She pulled them on then proceeded to tie her hair looking up as the coach acknowledged her.

"Ah! Isolde my star player. Boy am I glad to see you back!" He exclaimed, his gruff voice echoing through the gymnasium.

Coach Rocco Davino, 53 years old, volleyball coach and ex champion. He looked and sounded like an Italian mob boss, and no one could tell you if he indeed was one or not.

"Coach." Isolde nodded at him, finally straightening as she threw her ponytail back. "Glad to be back." She offered him a tight grin.

"You're early as usual." He remarks, not stopping, but instead walking right through the doors. "Girl tryouts start in 20 minutes."

Isolde walked onto the court, stretching her hamstrings. She observed the two remaining boys. One was a tall lanky blond, and the other-

She squinted her eyes, trying to understand what she was seeing.

Atlas glanced over his shoulder at her and smirked his signature cheshire cat smirk, before turning a full 180 and stopping dead in his tracks.

His legs stuck out rather awkwardly from underneath his shorts, but his arms were fairly toned.

The other guy took a moment to realize Atlas had stopped, catching the ball he'd been throwing up in the air and turning around as-well, clear confusion written across his face.

Octavius.

Octavius Alexopoulos.

Isolde didn't recognize his at first, but once she saw his unmistakably transparent expressions, she had no doubt it was him.

Unlike the boy she last saw, Octavius had grown taller and buffer. His once compact figure was now one of an athlete: shoulders broad, waist tight and legs muscular.

His previously unfortunately cropped hair had grown out, and was now a luscious mane of curly black locks soaked in sweat.

His olive skin had finally absorbed the sun it had craved, and was now glistening with a  chocolate tint.

His inky eyes travelled from her bare legs to her core then finally her face, eyes widening slightly with embarrassment at being caught, before he awkwardly waved at her.

She waved back then Atlas interrupted:

"Should've known you played volley." He said grazing his eyes over her briefly once.

"I'd say the same but I'm actually surprised you play any kind of sport." She blurted defensively.

Octavius's brows shot up and he peeped at Atlas, his mouth shaped in an O.

Atlas barked out a laugh, raising a single eyebrow pointedly.

At that Octavius's face relaxed, but the confusion was still clear of his features as he
glanced between them.

"You two already know each other?" He asked, busying his hands with the ball.

"We're acquainted." Atlas raised his nose up high. "Octavius and I, on the other hand, just met today." He told her.

"I see." The corners of her lips twitched slightly as they held each other's gaze. "How did the try outs go?" Isolde carried on the conversation. "Were you accepted on the team?" She directed her question at the new boy.

"I was." He replied shortly.

"He's actually pretty good." Octavius added.

"Mm... I'll believe it when I see it." Isolde teased, walking right between them, and allowing herself to smirk victoriously now that she had her back turned to them.

"I see what you're doing." Atlas remarked and she stopped, perking her ears.

"Is it working?" She questioned, still not facing them.

There was a pause, before both boys jogged to the other side of the net, throwing the ball over to Isolde as they smiled at each other.

"Let's see what you got slenderman." Atlas taunted her.

An amused look spread across Octavius's face, and she could tell he was trying hard not to laugh.

"Bring it on Mike Wazowski and James Sullivan."

And with a few lunges and a jump, the first serve was cannoned over to the other side...

End of Flashback.