Once upon A Player

By Agay Llanera

Gorgeous college senior Val Fabian is a player in every sense of the word. She's the star spiker of her university's volleyball team, and she never runs out of dates. But it seems that this year, she has finally been bitten by the commitment bug. She sets her sights on an unexpected target--the unassuming yet ultra-cute Jake Clementia. Val is used to getting what she wants, and is sure she'll snag him before graduation. But in the process of winning his heart, she is sideswiped by a surprise move that sends her tumbling from her pedestal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Agay Llanera
• Release date: Aug 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310533136

Agay Llanera

Agay Llanera is a freelance writer for television and video based in Manila, and a published writer of children’s books.Her children’s book Sol is available online, and can also be read at http://www.canvas.ph/about_Sol.htm.Email her at [e-mail].

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Once upon A Player

Agay Llanera

Smashwords Edition

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © Agay Llanera, 2014

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book, and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Contact the author: [e-mail]

http://agayisagirl.blogspot.com

Twitter: agayskee

Facebook: Agay Llanera, Author

Wattpad: AgayLlanera

Cover design for this edition by Spanky Reyes

For Spanky, who first got me into it

Prologue

FUDGE.

Not the gooey, chocolate variety that coated Val’s tongue in sweet ecstasy each time she bit into her favorite extra chewy brownies— but the word she would automatically utter when faced with an extremely stressful situation.

It was because no matter how dire the situation, she could not bring herself to cuss; so a watered-down version of that swear word that rhymed with duck was the best that she could interject.

FUDGE!

Blame it on the nuns, she would smirk, referring to the wimple-wearing administration that dictated her education—from kindergarten all the way to high school.

Not that she was a model of Christian faith, humility and all-around niceness. She was one of the most popular girls in her university and achieving, and even holding on to the, status meant having a streak of haughtiness. Not being able to curse was just one of her quirks, along with the need to always win—the latter she was giving up now, in order to win back something more precious than mere victory.

FUDGEFUDGEFUDGEFUDGEFUDGE!

Val gave an involuntary start when she heard her laugh—an unapologetic, soul-powered laugh that floated above the canned orchestral music pouring from the speakers. It was a laugh so hearty, you could slice it with a fork and knife, consume it, and allow it to warm your insides. Val’s heart ached just hearing it.

She gazed at the couple dining at the lone table bathed in soft light. From where she hid, she could see his face, and knew right away, that he, too, felt the pull of her charm. He was smiling and looking at her in a way that made Val’s heart ache anew.

Le sigh.

They were almost done with the pasta. In a few moments, it would be time for dessert—and the Big Reveal. After which, Val would know if she totally, irrevocably fudged it this time.

Chapter 1: Most Valuable Player

Both the crowd and Val's limbs were screaming—but for decidedly different reasons. The first was done in excitement, the latter, with fatigue.

The game had dragged on too long with the neck-and-neck scoring. It made a terrific show for the fans, but it was hell for the players, who looked just about ready to dissolve into exhaustion.

It was the fifth and final set and the score was tied at thirteen points. Somehow, Val’s team had to score two consecutive points to win and finally end the torture.

I am a ROBOT. A lean, mean, spiking ROBOT. ROBOTS do not feel pain. ROBOTS do not get tired. ROBOTS always win.

Val recited her mantra as she gingerly rotated her left wrist to relieve the slight pain from the spike she delivered earlier. Momentarily, her eyes glazed over as Coach Eric shouted his usual litany of criticisms whenever they messed up. After easily winning the first two sets, their team just as easily lost the last two, allowing the opponent to level the playing field.

FABIAN!

Val snapped to attention, feeling like someone had yanked off her mental earplugs, the full effect of the stadium’s atmosphere flooding her whole system. She was suddenly conscious of the bright lights overhead, shaped like the lamps used in hospital operating rooms. She blinked at the cameraman, and the soundman, who squeezed his microphone that looked like a huge overfed caterpillar into their circle. All eyes were on the coach, who was glaring at Val with crazy eyes, the vein on his forehead throbbing in time to the bass drum of their school band perched high up on the bleachers.

Val felt her heart beat faster as she braced herself for the Wrath of Coach Eric. He didn’t like distracted players, especially if said player was team captain.

The reed-thin man across Val came up only to her chest, which was why people who didn’t know him would often balk in surprise at the deep commanding voice that boomed out of his thin frame. The pint-sized terror practically spat out his words.

The play with De Leon. GOT IT?

Val turned to the girl next to her, and raised her eyebrows casually as if the pressure didn’t bother her. You up for it, Katwoman?

Kat nodded, her nose speckled with beads of perspiration. Aye, aye, Captain.

Val felt her own sweat sliding down her jaws. Automatically, she lifted her jersey by its collar to wipe it off. Fudge. The last time she did that, a paparazzo had taken her picture and uploaded it on her fan page with the caption "FAB’S FAB ABS."

Not that she had any problem showing off her abs. She just worried about pulling of gorgeous whenever she was in the public eye. Her last midriff-baring photo featured her with half-closed eyes and mouth hung open in full glory. Good thing her face was outshone by her toned tummy.

Just as the horn blared signaling the end of the timeout, Val placed her hands at the center of the huddle. Her teammates followed suit and piled their palms on top of each other, shouting GO, SILVER PHOENIX, FIGHT!

Val tossed her high ponytail and adjusted her thin, neon pink headband for luck. Across her, the enemy was already in position. Val felt like her team was looking at its reflection, except that they glittered in silver and aqua, while the other side blazed in lipstick-red uniforms. The air between them was charged with aggressive energy.

The whistle blew and the server from the other team stopped dribbling, held the ball for a sweet, silent second before delivering the kill.

Val and her teammates sprinted into position. It was a sharp serve, a bit off-speed, making it hard to gauge where the ball would land. Someone from her team dove just in time to hit it upwards.

Dessa! A voice rang out as the ball sailed into their setter’s waiting hands. Val’s legs were rock-tense as she prepared to jump. But instead of lifting the ball towards her direction, Dessa tossed it to the other side of the court, where it hit an empty floor space with a satisfying bump.

There was a split second before they all realized what happened, except for Dessa whose petite but stocky frame streaked across their side of the court, her springy curls flying as she emitted a loud WOOOHOOOOOO!

After recovering from the shock, the team rejoiced with a round of hugging, head tapping and high-fiving. Shortly after, Val and her teammates went back to position, but not before Dessa walked between her and Kat, lightly tapping their hips. The play, she said, her voice soft but sharp.

The three went to their places poker-faced, revealing nothing of the exchange.

The Phoenix server released the ball, which flew in a graceful arc into the opposite court. It was received flawlessly, allowing the Knights to execute a spike. But the Phoenix backrow defense was ready for the downward spinning ball and was able to dig it up. Dessa ran to receive the ball, tossing it up the air over to Kat. The blockers on the other side immediately put their arms up to deflect her hit.

Kat jumped high in the air, but didn’t hit the ball. Instead, right behind her swooped in Val, who jumped even higher to smack the ball down in an angle that was so steep, it was almost vertical.

The Knights scrambled into position, but it was too late. The ball already bounced right off the floor.

A glorious roar exploded in the stadium. Val howled and pumped her fists in the air. The next thing she felt was being crushed from all sides as she found herself the center of a laughing, shrieking jumble of silver and blues.

FAB! FAB! FAB! the crowd chanted.

Val closed her eyes and smiled, soaking in the beautiful, beautiful chaos.

* * * *

Val was no tennis fan, but her favorite female athlete, hands down, was Maria Sharapova. Not only was she a terrific athlete, she was also beautiful and rich. Gracing the cover of Sports Illustrated ranked high in Val’s book, but being part of the Forbes Celebrity 100 was pure greatness.

Since being fabulously rich was still a long shot, for now Val was focusing on being fabulously gorgeous. Which was why she had taken pains in blow-drying her hair, and was now evenly applying BB cream on her just-washed, toned and moisturized face in the arena’s dugout.

My whole body feels so sore, Kat groaned, pressing the length of her frame on the wall. It's all tenderized-- you can just slap it on the grill with barbecue sauce.

Don't talk about food! Dessa, who was sitting on the sink, turned around and caught Val’s eye in the mirror. "Can you please hurry up? We’re famished!"

Val raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, eying her teammates’ damp hair pooling in wet patches on their shirts’ shoulders.

A quick blowdry, anyone? She held up the battery-operated mini hairdryer, which she especially ordered from her aunt in the States.

Kat made a face, reducing her already chinita eyes into slits while Dessa clicked her tongue in exasperation. We're the only ones left here, Val. They're probably having dessert by now.

It was tradition for the team to celebrate each victory by eating out after the game. This season, they had so far been unbeatable—a great way to cap off Val’s final year in college. But it also meant that they had practically pigged out after every game. For once, Val was grateful for the long hours spent on rigorous training that easily burned those celebration calories.

As visions of food danced in her head, she hastily adjusted her off-shoulder top, smoothed down her denim mini skirt, and gave her reflection a critical once-over.

Let’s go!

They grabbed their bags and walked the hallway that led to the parking lot. After pushing the door open, they were greeted by camera flashes and squeals.

You guys were great!

Sign my shirt?

Can I have my picture taken with you?

A swarm of fans pressed on the three players, flushed and eager to catch their attention. Val flashed her practiced smile and gamely posed with a giddy girl, who looked all of twelve years old. She grabbed Val’s arm and looked up at her adoringly.

You were fab as ever, Val!

Thank you! Val congratulated her self for having the foresight to look her best before facing the fans. Through the years, the volleyball crowd had steadily gained in number until it ballooned this season. Gone were the days when men’s basketball was the only collegiate sport that people followed. Now, women’s volleyball drew just in throngs just as thick, with arenas being filled to the rafters and tickets sold out on the day they were released.

Again, Val smiled and tilted her head to show her best angle as she posed with another fan. Not that she needed to constantly worry about her looks. She was a 5’10" stunner with light brown hair that fell past her shoulders, dark mocha eyes fringed with thick lashes, and a slim frame with just the right amount of hip curve to make her silhouette look womanly. If there was one thing she didn’t like about her face, it was her too-thin lips. Still, it