i know // jeremiah fisher

L - National Champ

(A/N: HAPPY PART 50)

***

The first game went great, we won.

But now, we're against the real competition. That team with the deadly spike? Yup, here they are.

Taylor and I were on a roll before she got hurt, and I really thought Jere was going to continue it after that first game, but yikes. This boy cannot play volleyball.

The other team won. I give them a nod to say "good game" and walk off of the court with Jeremiah behind me.

"Damn, those girls are insane." Conrad pats my back.

"Don't worry about me, I'm not a sore loser." I smile, "No matter who wins, a charity is gonna get help. That's what matters."

"Well I am, I totally had money riding on little miss 'volleyball superstar'." He jokingly whines.

I push his shoulder with a laugh.

"Volleyball superstar?" Jeremiah asks, entering the conversation.

"Yeah," I look at him, the smile still set on my face. He looks totally confused, my face drops slightly in surprise.

He furrows his eyebrows.

"Dude, she literally did volleyball her whole life." Conrad says, "Didn't you win like, the national championship with your club team junior year?" He looks to me.

"Yeah." I eye Jere, "How did you not know I played?"

He looks embarrassed.

"Whatever," I laugh to deflect the situation, "Oh! I think Belly and Cam are up next!" 

Conrad looks over to the court and cheers as they walk on.

I grab Jere's arm an lightly pull him with me, away from the game.

"Let's get victory snow cones." I smile.

"But we didn't win?" His eyebrows furrow.

"The worker doesn't have to know that." I laugh a little.

We get our 'victory' snow cones and eat them on the walk back to the house.

"You seriously didn't know I played volleyball?" I ask. Our feet are in the pool and we're sitting on the edge.

He shrugs, "I guess not."

"I know you didn't like me very much, but to literally act like I didn't exist-" I laugh and shake my head.

He pouts his lip out, "I'm sorry, okay?"

I lay my head down on his shoulder with a smile.

"National champions?" He asks.

"National champions." I confirm.

"So, I'm dating, like, a superstar?"

I laugh at his comment and a little snort comes out.

"There's one rule to dating a superstar." I say smugly.

"Oh yeah?" He says.

"You can't suck at my sport."

"I don't suck!" He argues lightheartedly.

"You do. But it's okay, baby." I pick my head up and give him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll just have to give you some private lessons."

He bites his lip and looks down at me, "What do those include?"

I shove his shoulder, "Volleyball private lessons, perv." I laugh.