New Girl

1

“Does it still hurt?” Nicki asked.
Robyn fingered the purple-blue bruise above her cheekbone. She glanced back at Nicki in the mirror and tried not to scoff at her new teammate’s
concern. This massive shiner was all her fault and she didn’t even realise. Too wrapped up in the impossible glossiness of Nicki’s legs, Robyn hadn’t seen the ball coming. It was a powerful smash delivered by the opposing team’s star player and, stupid as it may sound, Robyn had forgotten to duck. She’d been so enthralled by the flexing muscles in Nicki’s calves that she’d ignored the most important reflex of any volleyball player: protect yourself.
   “Kind of.” Robyn removed the useless make-up from her face. She remembered the days when half the team was made up of lesbians and they drove home after an away game, no matter how far. Nowadays, it seemed imperative that they book a cheap B&B so the youngsters could flirt all night with the male teams lingering about the cafeteria. Nearing twenty-nine, Robyn knew she was on her way out and maybe it made her a tad bitter. Her lifetime volleyball companion Kate had to bow out of this game because of a knee injury—no doubt caused by too much wear and tear, they were the same age after all—leaving Robyn to share a room with the
new girl. Not that she minded that much. Her gaze followed Nicki as she brushed her long unruly curls before tying them into a ponytail for bed. It
was just a bit embarrassing at the moment.
“She was really gunning for you.” Nicki shook her head and her ponytail bopped from left to right. “What a bitch.”
“It was my own fault. I was distracted.” Still looking at Nicki’s reflection in the mirror, Robyn pinned her eyes on her teammate’s hazel ones and stared
for a moment too long. Nicki had slipped out of her summer dress and wore nothing but a flower-patterned pair of shorts and a skimpy tank top. Did she not realise they were sharing the bed? As soon as Robyn had heard she’d be bunking with Nicki she’d invested in a navy silk pair of pyjamas which covered most of her skin—mainly as a measure of self-protection. The thought of inadvertently touching Nicki during the night had made her a bit too moist for comfort.
   “Oh yeah. By what?” Nicki had moved to the edge of the bed and was applying moisturiser to her legs. Robyn tried not to stare at them but, just like
during the game, she couldn’t pull her gaze away.
“I don’t know.” Robyn had to swallow before she could continue to speak.
“Someone in the crowd, I guess.”
“Someone special?” Nicki shot her a sly smile.
“Hardly.” Robyn hadn’t met someone to refer to as special in a while.
“Excuse me.” She grabbed her pyjamas, stepped into the tiny bathroom and closed the door behind her. Before splashing cold water in her face
she examined herself in yet another mirror. Her cheek was swollen, narrowing her left eye. The bruise seemed to mock her and, admittedly,
despite the dramatic purple-red edge of the contusion, it was her ego that was wounded most. She had no business lusting after someone who’d just graduated from university. Nicki was barely twenty-one and even though
they were only eight years apart in age, somehow, it felt more like eighteen—or eighty, now that she was feeling especially melodramatic about it.
     Robyn ran her fingers through her blond bob and sighed. She undressed and let the soft silk of the pyjama envelop her limbs. Her nipples perked
up against the smooth fabric. Robyn certainly hadn’t counted on a pair of PJs making her frisky. Who was she kidding, anyway? She had plenty of silk garments and none had this effect on her. She relied on another deep breath to calm her down and headed back into the bedroom.