Tell Me If the Lovers Are Losers by Cynthia Voigt Read Free Book Online Page A

seemed a rather large person,” Hildy said.
    â€œShe would,” Niki pronounced. “I saw you go by last night,” she remarked to Ann. Ann flushed. “Some of your prep school friends?”
    â€œYes. Why?”
    â€œNo reason.”
    â€œHow was the game?”
    â€œOK. We won, fifteen-three, fifteen-twelve.”
    â€œVolleyball?” Hildy asked.
    â€œYeah,” Niki said. “Do you play?”
    â€œIt was my sport, in high school. I plan to take it here this fall.”
    â€œGood God, why do that? It’s not a real sport.”
    â€œIt isn’t?”
    â€œOf course not. Tennis is. Basketball is. Swimming.”
    â€œAnd field hockey,” Ann added.
    â€œI’ll take your word for that,” Niki said. “But volleyball—that’s just for horsing around.”
    â€œWhy should you think that?” asked Hildy.
    â€œIt’s true, for one thing,” Niki answered. “And then, there’s no skill and not much exercise, except for the spiker.”
    â€œIf you think that, then you know little of the game,” Hildy remarked.
    â€œI know something,” Niki said, challenge in her voice. “Want to play a game this afternoon?”
    â€œIs there time for that? There is nothing else we must do?”
    â€œThere’s a tea at four. A get-acquainted tea.” Ann thought further. “Nothing else.”
    â€œCan we find enough people to play?” Hildy asked Niki.
    â€œSure. Easy.” Niki was pleased. “Where are you from that you played volleyball as a sport?”
    â€œNowhere,” Hildy said.
    â€œIs that really the name of the town?” Ann asked.
    â€œYes. Peculiar, isn’t it? But the high school was not there. It was fifty miles away, at Huger Ford.”
    â€œDid you have interscholastic matches?” Niki asked.
    â€œNo. There were no teams nearby. Only the basketball team competed with other teams, the boys. They had to travel many hours to play a game. And they seldom won.”
    Niki sipped her coffee, studying Hildy’s face. “What do you think of winning?”
    Ann giggled: “Preferable to losing.”
    â€œButt out. You hear?” Niki glared at her.
    â€œAre you angry at Ann?” Hildy asked. Niki shook her head. “Oh. I thought you were, to hear you speak that way.”
    â€œMorning isn’t my best time,” Niki mumbled. Ann thoughtthat might be an apology, but didn’t know whether it was directed toward her or toward Hildy.
    â€œWhen is your best time?” Hildy inquired.
    â€œI don’t have one,” Niki answered.
    Ann sputtered with laughter Niki turned to her, glaring, the nose thrust forward, the mouth stiff with anger.
    Ann said quickly, “Come on, that’s funny.”
    Niki grunted, subsided.
    â€œHow many people do you need for a volleyball game?” Ann asked.
    â€œAny number,” Niki said.
    â€œThat’s not so,” Hildy protested. “You must have six on each side, no more.”
    â€œWhat the hell,” Niki said. “If you say so.”
    â€œCan you find twelve people to play?” Ann asked quickly.
    â€œWe’ve got three right here,” Niki said.
    â€œNot me,” Ann shook her head. “I don’t know how to play volleyball. I’ll cheerlead but I won’t play. I’ll time, how’s that? How much time to a half?”
    â€œNo time. You just play until somebody gets to fifteen, with a margin of two points.”
    â€œThat isn’t the way,” Hildy said, leaning forward. “You must limit yourself to eight minutes a game for two out of three games. If at the end of eight minutes neither team leads by two points, you play on in sudden death.”
    â€œJudas Priest, Hildy,” Niki said, “if you crap up the game with all these rules it won’t be any fun. Where’d you get them?”
    â€œThe woman who coached me had had a chance