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Oh, the game started, she realized, cocking her head curiously. She couldn’t help herself, she turned from what she realized now was the ball to look at Rane.
And he was so different from how she had seen him before, shooting through the sphere with impressive speed as he charged for the ball. He wasn’t swimming. His boots were propelling him. He wasn’t the only one either, someone from the opposite team was doing the same. The rest of the players were spreading out, covering each other, all but two who posted up on opposite sides of the field.
She had no idea how this game was played, or even what the point was, but she felt something like excitement and nerves rising in her belly as Rane and another other male closed in on the ball as it sank quickly.
Rane won, by a hair. He caught the ball in one hand. With the other, he punched the approaching player full in the face, sending him flying.
Sandy couldn’t help but gasp. She didn’t think he’d commit such a blatant foul like that. Maybe she was wrong about him. She expected an uproar, some kind of ref to call halt.
But… wait…
No. The game continued. Rane flew off in the opposite direction like nothing happened, while the guy he punched rolled a few times before recovering and tearing off towards the other team. No one booed or jeered that move.
It occurred to her that this game might be more brutal than she was used to. But she had to stop thinking about it, because everyone was converging on Rane. The three biggest players on the other team chased him down, as the three biggest players on his own team ran defense, and the faster guys moved around on every side.
Rane threw the ball to another guy on his team. Who flew until he was nearly caught, then he threw it back. Rane didn’t waste any time. He caught it, pivoted, and immediately threw it to the guy who had took off by himself, leading the other team on a wild chase.
The other three guys on the team had converged around him and tried to block the ball, but he suddenly shot down, putting himself in the ball’s path. He caught it and took off, everyone chasing him. And the clashes were brutal. It wasn’t just grabbing and pushing like in football. These were full on brawls, pounding each other like it was an MMA cage fight.
And Rane was… really good.
Maybe she was just looking with a novice’s eyes, but he was incredible out there. He moved quick, with confidence, and not only didn’t hesitate to land punches, but also took them like a champ. A particularly hard blow across his jaw threw him back, and the crowd cheered.
She found herself clenching her teeth, angry. They gasped and roared for the others when they were hit too, but it sounded different. It was almost like they reveled in Rane getting hurt.
But then he recovered, wiped away the blood on his lower lip, and looked back up at the one that had knocked him away, the camera zooming in on his face-
-and her heart did that thing again.
Sandy pressed a fist against her chest as she stared, breathless, at the dome jumbotron. At the way Rane’s body moved, the interplay of muscles as they clenched and pulled, while he chased down some guy on the other team.
“Oh, do stop.”
Sandy jumped, looking over. She had completely forgotten that Elffa was there. But the tall, slender female certainly hadn’t forgotten her. She looked down her small, gently sloped nose as she made a face of disgust.
“Really, it’s uncouth,” she told her primly, crossing her ankles. “You should at least act like you’ve some sense of decorum. I thought perhaps a human who dresses properly as you do would have been taught manners.”
It appeared that her wanna-be-mother-in-law didn’t like that Sandy was getting invested in Rane’s game. Which was a bit rude, if she did say so herself. She was having fun – or at least, she had been until Elffa decided to remind her of her presence.
Looking away, Sandy focused back on the game.
“Hey,” Elffa hissed. “I am speaking to you. You will respond to me.”
Sandy didn’t even look back at her this time. Rane was grappling with one of the bigger dudes on the other team and…
Sandy had never really considered herself the type of girl to be tempted by the flesh. She wouldn’t call herself asexual, per se. She’d had a longtime boyfriend in high school that ended when he went off to play baseball in college. She’d cried a bit, missed him for a while, but got over it eventually. But she’d never really been the type to seek out relationships. She certainly hadn’t cared about looks. It was more important the kind of person he was. Looks faded, after all. Her grandmother said everyone ended up wrinkly and shrunken if you gave them long enough, so basing a relationship on looks was making a relationship destined to fade just as fast.
Sandy certainly never paid particular attention to her own appearance. It would be beyond hypocritical of her to demand a jacked up, muscly, magazine worthy, gym god when she herself offered unripe grandma in terms of looks.
But Rane was creating a fire in her belly she was completely unfamiliar with. It sparked in her loins, making her mouth dry and her heart race as she saw his biceps and pecs bulging, his abdomen and thighs rippling. As she stared, he twisted, throwing some big guy off balance, then kicked, driving his knee into his side, and sending him crashing into a jade boulder. The jumbotron again got a perfect, up close view of him looking down, teeth bared, muscles jumping, skin definitely shinier.
She might not understand the rules of this game, but she couldn’t care less. It looked like Rane was winning, and that was all she cared about. Even if no one else in this city sized stadium cared about him, she wanted his success.
Chapter 8
Rane
The game was called with a harsh cry of the buzzer. He hadn’t been keeping track of points. Trikball didn’t leave much time to relax. It was pretty high energy and physically demanding on the players, from start to finish. But he found out who won when the entire stadium began flashing the Elivier team color while the crowd roared their approval.
