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

points, then lost serve again. Although Hildy was in the front row, she did not often spike. She sent the ball back, to her own team, over her head or sideways. She placed her shots when she made them over the net and ordinarily won the point. Her team won that game, and the sides switched again.
    Ann and Eloise exchanged a glance, both with eyebrows raised. “I’m rather glad I decided to stop by,” Eloise said.
    Ann nodded. Niki’s face was mottled with exertion, and so was Hildy’s. All twelve faces were serious. The blonde, Sarah, served a moderate underhand. Hildy passed it overhead to a player in the front row. Niki’s team shifted toward that side of the court. “To Carol,” Hildy called, and the ball, instead of being sent over the net, was passed down to the opposite side of the front line, to the redheaded girl. She plopped it over for the point, into the emptied court.
    The team rotated. To Hildy’s serve. In silence.
    Hildy served hard, and Niki returned it. Hildy’s team passed it forward and over the net. Sarah returned it immediately, to the feet of a player who could not lift it back into play.
    The team rotated. In silence.
    A heavy, brown-haired girl, wearing boy’s athletic shorts, served for Niki’s team. The redhead, Carol, returned it easily, a long, high, floating shot. As soon as it left her hands, she slapped one palm against her forehead and looked about her apologetically, but nobody returned her glance. They watched the ball instead. Sarah moved to receive it. Niki poised by the net. The ball came off Sarah’s hands at the same time that Niki left the ground. She executed the spike. Hildy dived for it, but missed.
    Ann let her breath out.
    Brownhair served again, across the court to the opposite side. Hildy’s team passed it forward, then across the front to Hildy; who soared up to meet it with her fist, spiking it directly to Sarah; who caught it against her belly, surprised.
    The team rotated. In silence.
    Eloise crossed her legs beneath her and hunched forward.
    The next serve was weak but accurate. Niki returned it to midcourt. Hildy crouched down to lift the ball enough so that another pass returned it over the net. Niki went to receive it, passed it to Sarah, who sent it back, deep and flat. The server ran to meet it and, with a frenzied fist, popped it up. Hildy was beneath it when it came down. She sent it to Carol who angled it across court. Sarah lifted it high, and Niki leaped.
    â€œHoo-aah!” Niki cried, as she fired the ball into the back of the court.
    â€œAll right! Now! We’ve got it!” Niki yelled. Her voice shattered the silence.
    Ann repressed a nervous giggle. By a coolness at her back, she knew a third person had joined them. Word of this kind of contest must spread quickly. She turned her head to greet the newcomer, then scrambled to her feet.
    â€œMiss Dennis,” Ann said as Eloise, too, hurried to stand.
    â€œMiss Gardner,” the Munchkin answered. “Miss Golding.”
    Eloise bobbed her head.
    Miss Dennis wore a navy shirt dress that emphasized her squat body.
    â€œI was on my way to the tea,” she remarked. “This seems to be a close game.”
    â€œIt is.”
    â€œYes. Well, so it appears.”
    â€œIt’s the third,” Eloise volunteered. “Each team has won one.”
    They watched in silence for a while. The score crept slowly upward to five-five. As Niki’s team prepared to serve, Miss Dennis stepped up to one of the poles. “Ladies,” she announced. “If you continue, you will either miss the tea entirely or be embarrassingly late.”
    Eyes turned to wristwatches. “Hell and damnation,” Niki said. Too loudly.
    â€œPerhaps so,” Miss Dennis’ dry voice carried over the babble that hastily arose. “Ah, Miss Koenig. I see you have arrived safely.”
    Hildy’s head swung around and she squinted toward the