Chasing Butterflies Chapter 31: Tryhard (Patreon)

Olivia had played Trisha and her group before. Well, sort of—one or two of its members would shift and change day by day, but they’d played every single other team at least a couple of times over the past week.

The encounters hadn’t been particularly noteworthy. Trisha herself seemed fairly competent at volleyball, and sometimes her teammates were too. But they rarely showed the same competitive drive as the boys. All of them prioritized socialization over winning.

Still, after seeing the girl at the thrift store, this encounter felt different. They didn’t have much reason to interact during English class anymore. But here? Set across from each other, face-to-face?

Olivia couldn’t help but glance toward the blonde cheerleader. Trisha met her gaze and flashed a brief smile before returning her attention to the hangers-on around her. The other three chatted, more interested in the latest gossip than getting into position. Two of them Olivia recognized as girls that weren’t particularly good at the game.

I don’t know what I’m so worried about. It’s not like we’ve suddenly become best friends or something. Even if that was the case, what would it matter? That can’t be a particularly big deal…

The ball arced over the net in a serve, sailing back and forth as loud thwacks echoed through the gym. Between the boys on their side and the efforts of Olivia and Luna, they were actually winning. Pretty handily, too. The boys on the other side were the handsome and popular type, which in high school meant they were quite athletic. But they were clearly suffering from the dispositions of their female teammates, just as Sean and his friends had been at first.

It felt a little nice. For once, Olivia’s side weren’t the ones floundering.

One moved to spike the ball over the net. Olivia’s mind raced. At that angle, she’d be the closest one to reaching it. But could she get there in time?

Oh, screw it. Why not?

She dashed forward to intercept the ball, already diving. Her belly hit the lacquered wood and slid, knocking the wind out of her with the impact. By some miracle, her arms just managed to get between the ball and the floor. One of her teammates rushed to make the most of her effort, pressing the barely-airborne thing higher into the air so that Sean could return the favor. The boy spiked the ball into the opponent’s side with a wide grin.

“Nice!”

One of Olivia’s teammates helped her up. “Hey, that almost looked intentional!”

She laughed. “Don’t count on it happening again. I’m lucky I didn't bite my tongue off.”

“Eh. Worth it. Points are points.”

The boys grinned. Their demeanors had entirely turned around by this point. The willingness to try had made them do a one-eighty on her and, to a lesser extent, Luna. And winning certainly didn’t hurt, either.

Making friends is so easy when you’re young. Or maybe it’s just because they’re competitive?

“Ugh. Tryhard.”

Olivia’s ears perked up and she looked across the net. One of the popular girls—a brunette with a short bob-cut—was rolling her eyes with disdain.

Did… did she really just say that?

Trisha raised an eyebrow. “Shelly…”

The brunette shrugged. If she picked up on the warning tone in Trisha’s voice, she ignored it. “What? It’s true.”

Trisha’s eyes narrowed slightly. A girl with pink nails shot a furtive glance between the two girls before tossing her lot in with the brunette. She scoffed. “Seriously. Like, it doesn’t even matter.”

Olivia put a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. It was one thing to call stereotypes and caricatures to mind. But to see them in action was another. Did they truly not understand how cartoonish stuff like this made them seem? It didn’t even offend her. It was just too funny.

Besides… What kind of an insult is “tryhard,” anyway? Is actually putting in effort somehow uncool? We’re here to exercise. I mean, I get it if there was an understanding that the match was supposed to be super casual or something, but even then…

Apparently, her laugh hadn’t gone unnoticed. The brunette’s eyes locked onto her own, blazing with indignation. She opened her mouth but was interrupted when another voice sounded—this time, from behind.

“Sounds like loser talk from a lazy bitch.”

Olivia’s eyes went wide. She spun around to see Miranda scowling darkly at the opposing team.

Is she… defending me?

No, that probably wasn’t it. Based on the sheer malice in that glare, Olivia would guess that the girl just hated these girls enough to pick a fight regardless. They’d just given her an excuse.

Pink nails gaped in disbelief. She turned to her cadre as though wanting to make sure they’d heard the same thing. Trisha’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly as she quickly bit back whatever she’d been meaning to say before the interruption. It was the brunette that stepped forward to respond defiantly.

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

Miranda’s eyes narrowed. The brunette’s retort emboldened the other hangers-on as well, their responses coming in stage whispers.

“Right?”

“I know.  She just, like, stands there.”

“Don’t be too hard on her, Shelly. If she tried to play, she’d just trip over those ugly things on her feet.”

The trio giggled as one gestured toward the edgy girl’s combat boots. Miranda’s eye twitched in annoyance. The boys on both sides shifted uncomfortably, none of them willing to speak up and step into the brewing catfight. Throughout it all, Trisha remained silent, crossing her arms as though to distance herself from the responses of the others. Tension filled the air.

Well, that’s something. Though if this is how her “friends” act, then I understand her keeping the thrift shop thing secret even more. Why would she even hang around these girls?

Olivia shook her head. That was a Pandora’s box of high school politics that she didn’t really want to open.

Miranda stalked across the silent court toward Sean, her eyes never leaving the brunette. “Ball. Now.”

The boy stared at her, then shrugged, handing it over. Miranda stomped back to the corner of the court and turned to face her opponents. She tossed the ball up with one hand, pulling the other back with perfect form as it rose. Then, she smacked it across the court.

Pink nails stepped forward to return the ball. She tried to make it look nonchalant, but only succeeded in being clumsy. Her hit barely made it back over the net.

Olivia stepped forward, but was brushed aside. Miranda appeared at the net, leaping high to meet the ball at its apex. Her palm slammed down to spike it back down—but not into the floor. She twisted at the last moment and spiked the ball right into the brunette’s face.

The brunette gave a very unladylike grunt as her head whipped back. She staggered, the ball itself totally forgotten as everyone went quiet.

“Shelly! Omigosh, are you ok?!” Pink nails rushed to console her friend only to come up short. A trickle of blood began to stream from Shelly’s nose.

The brunette touched her face. When her fingers came away red, she slowly looked toward Miranda. Olivia’s teammate stood defiantly with her arms crossed.

“You… you hit me!”

“Whoops.” Miranda said flatly. “Shoulda had your hands up.”

“Whoops? Whoops?!” Shelly seethed. Her eyes filled with rage. “You bitch—”

“What’s going on over here?”

Mr. Wolfe appeared, his overinflated form strutting across the gym floor toward their court. The brunette wasted no time in pointing an accusatory finger at Miranda, her rage instantly replaced with a wounded and pitiable expression. “Mr. Wolfe! She hit me! In the face!”

Dang. I won’t say it’s good acting, but I’m seriously impressed at the quick turnaround on her temper. She must have that thing on a tight leash.

Miranda just shrugged. “It was an accident. I mean, I can’t play for shit, right?”

“Language,” Mr. Wolfe warned. He quickly stepped toward Shelly and inspected the injury with a click of his tongue. “Not broken, looks like. Just a little bloody. Looks like it’s already stopped… Here.” He retrieved a tissue from his pocket and offered it to Shelly. “Do you want to go to the nurse?”

“I want her to get in trouble!” Shelly whirled to point an accusatory finger toward Miranda. “She targeted me!”

The gym teacher looked at Miranda with narrowed eyes. “Is that true?”

“Not at all, Mr. Wolfe.” Trisha glided forward to take charge. “It really was just an accident.”

“An accident?!” Pink nails gaped. “She totally meant to do that!”

“She just spiked the ball over the net. That’s part of the game.” Sean pointed out.

“Right.” Trisha smoothly agreed. “It just went a little astray, that’s all. We weren’t ready for it. Isn’t that right?”

“You’re kidding,” Shelly blurted out. “She totally meant to do that! She should be, like, suspended or, or something—”

“Shelly.”

Trisha and Shelly locked eyes. What passed between them wasn’t just a conversation—it was a full debate. A courtroom drama played out in twitching eyebrows and subtle quirks of the mouth.

Olivia had absolutely no idea what was being said of course. But whatever it was did not go Shelly’s way. The brunette became visibly more frustrated as Trisha stared her down with cool composure. Eventually, their debate grew to encompass the other two members of their team, Trisha and Shelly seeming to silently vie for support in their respective campaigns. The fourth girl looked away from Shelly pointedly, followed by pink nails casting her eyes toward the floor far more reluctantly.

“...Fine.” Shelly’s voice oozed with venom as she grimaced. “It was an accident.”

Pink nails looked up, opening her mouth as though to object. But one look from Trisha and the words died in her throat. She shot a panicked look between Trisha, Shelly, and the fourth girl on their team who stood behind Trisha with arms crossed.

Miranda opened her mouth to say something. Olivia quickly stepped in before she could agitate anyone further. “It’s ok. Accidents happen. I think we’ll all be just fine, so long as we’re a bit more careful. Let’s just have fun and play the game, why don’t we? It is just a game, after all.”

Mr. Wolfe’s gaze swung between Miranda and Shelly. “I see. Well. Let’s keep things civil. Otherwise, I may have to stop by for another chat.”

He ushered the girl off to the edge of the gym, sending her to the nurse and leaving both teams to continue playing. The tension lessened significantly now that Shelly was out of the picture, and pink nails didn’t seem willing to take her place in firing off more snide remarks. Miranda also refrained from actively assaulting the other girls, though she did continue to play. Every one of her shots sent the remaining two hangers-on scattering from their sheer force.

Eventually, after scoring so many points that even the boys lost count, the sound of the whistle released them from the standoff. Olivia could practically hear Luna sigh with relief as the other team moved on. She wasn’t the only one either.

“Hey,” Olivia approached Miranda as their next opponents made their way over. “Thanks for standing up for me. You’re pretty good at volleyball.”

Miranda met her eyes, then looked away and scoffed. “Don't get used to it. She just pissed me off.”

True to her word, The surly girl retreated to her normal brooding indifference for the next game. Still, Olivia couldn’t help but smile. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.

***

Contrary to Olivia’s expectations, Trisha didn’t bring up the altercation during English the next morning. They both kept to their own business, same as always. Though Olivia couldn’t help but overhear some of the cheerleader’s conversation with her friends in the class.

“Did you hear what happened to Shelly?”

“I know!”

“What? What happened?”

“Some girl tried to brain her with a volleyball during PE.”

“No.”

“It’s true! Just spiked it at her, wham! Mr. Wolfe had to get involved and everything.”

Trisha spoke up for the first time all conversation. “Hmmm. That’s not quite how it went.”

“That’s what Shelly told Kayla.”

“Well, Shelly might have left a couple of things out.”

Olivia glanced over to see the cheerleader resting her chin on one hand. Her eyes twinkled. “Luckily for you, I have an even better source. After all, I was there.”

“No.”

“Give us the goss!”

The blonde stretched languorously as the others turned to her with rapt attention, clearly relishing the moment. “Well… She did get hit. In the stomach. You could hear it through the whole gym it hit so hard. But as for why… Shelly may or may not have said some rather… unflattering things to the girl in question.”

Trisha recounted the incident from her perspective. Despite her earlier comment, the cheerleader’s own account had quite a number of omissions itself. The story painted Shelly in a far more negative light, framing Miranda’s responses as self-defense rather than an unprovoked attack.

Olivia heard a girl sigh. “I knew it.”

“Of course.”

“She’s been acting different lately.”

“You mean like a catty biotch?”

“Eileen! You can’t say that!” Trisha chastised, but there was no real heat in it.

“It's true. Ever since she bagged that senior she thinks she’s all that.”

“Ugh. He’s such a creep.”

“I know. Isn’t he eighteen already?”

“Not until January.”

“Bleh. He’d better hope they break up by then… He’s not even that hot!”

“She’s definitely stepping on toes,” Trisha agreed. “And making a lot of enemies.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Absolutely. Even before this, she had a falling out with Mimi…”

Olivia tuned the girls out as their conversation turned to less relevant topics. She really, honestly didn’t care about the politics at play here. But the fact that they existed at all was a little bit interesting. She’d been all but oblivious to all of this stuff the first time around.

…Maybe that was a blessing more than anything. Oh, well. As long as I don’t get wrapped up in it.

She glanced toward the teacher’s desk. Ms. Roche had finally finished her makeup and her breakfast, now that class was halfway over. For once, she actually spoke.

“All right. I’ve got worksheets for you. Finish ‘em this week.”

She unceremoniously pulled a pile of papers from beneath her desk and set them atop it. She didn’t even pass the things out. After a moment of silence, a few kids rose to retrieve ones for themselves and their friends

Olivia’s eye twitched. The absolute nerve to assign something, after not lifting a single finger to teach…

I’m this close to reporting this lady. Seriously.

She took a deep breath and calmed herself. No sense in making waves over this. Not like she really knew who to tell about it, anyway. 

Shaking her head, Olivia turned her attention to the assignment. There were still twenty minutes left of class. She could finish this and still have time to do another drawing, no problem. Maybe it would take her mind off of the knot of frustration in her chest.