Arielle hit the floor harder than she expected, palms slapping the polished gym tiles. A small gasp left her before she could stop it.
The girl she had bumped into grimaced dramatically. "Seriously? Can you watch where you're going?"
"I...I'm sorry," Arielle said quickly, scrambling to her feet. Her borrowed shorts tugged awkwardly, making her feel even more out of place. "I didn't mean.."
"Just… look next time." The girl flipped her ponytail and walked off.
Arielle brushed off her knees, cheeks burning. She hadn't even started the class yet, and she already felt like she didn't belong.
The coach blew his whistle. "Alright, beginners! Over here!"
Arielle exhaled shakily and moved toward the small group forming around the coach. Most of them looked younger, college students, maybe early twenties. They chatted excitedly among themselves.
"Hi everyone," Coach Daniel said with a bright smile. "Welcome to Beginner Volleyball. Before we start, I want to get a sense of your experience levels."
A tall guy raised his hand. "I played in high school."
A girl next to him chimed in. "Same, but it's been a few years."
Another girl laughed. "I only played casually with friends, but I know the basics."
Coach Daniel nodded, smiling at each response. "Good, good. And you?" He looked at Arielle warmly. "Any experience?"
Arielle swallowed. "None."
A few heads turned. A few eyebrows lifted.
She tried again. "I mean… at all. I've never even held a volleyball before today."
Someone snickered behind her.
Coach Daniel blinked in surprise, but his tone stayed gentle. "Alright. That's perfectly fine. We'll take it slow."
He clapped his hands. "Let's get started. First, positions."
He held up a diagram. "This is the court. Six positions. Setter. Libero. Middle blocker. Outside hitter. Opposite hitter. Defensive specialist."
Arielle stared at the paper like it was written in another language.
The others nodded along, some even whispering, "Oh yeah, I remember that," or "I played libero before."
"Next," Coach continued, "basic movements. Ready stance is here—knees bent, hands out. Passing is forearm contact like this."
He showed them.
Everyone imitated him easily.
Arielle hesitated, then copied his posture but her stance looked stiff, awkward. Her hands weren't aligned right. Her shoulders tensed.
The coach gently nudged her elbow. "Relax here. Try to loosen your shoulders."
"Oh...okay." She tried. Failed. Tried again.
The girl beside her whispered, not quietly enough, "She looks like she's never exercised."
Arielle's ears burned.
Coach Daniel continued demonstrating. "Now hitting...this isn't easy, but the concept is to approach, jump, and swing."
The others followed along smoothly.
Arielle barely understood what she was watching. She tried to swing her arm the way he showed them, but her motion was stiff and far from smooth.
Whispers gathered behind her.
"She really doesn't know anything."
"At 28? Why start now?"
"I'd die of embarrassment."
Arielle's chest tightened, but she forced herself to focus.
Coach Daniel clapped again. "Let's try some receiving drills."
The beginners formed pairs, tossing and passing balls. Everyone adjusted quickly.
Everyone except her.
Each time she tried to pass, the ball bounced off her arms in the wrong direction. Sometimes it died right in front of her. Other times it shot behind her.
Eventually, she stood alone, clutching the ball awkwardly while the others practiced smoothly around her.
Coach Daniel noticed. "Arielle, how are we doing?"
She forced a smile. "Still… trying."
"Let's try your stance again." He positioned her arms carefully. "Straighten here. Tighten your core. You're too hunched. Lift your chest, bend your knees..no, not that much...just a little...right, like that."
Arielle adjusted herself for the twentieth time.
He tossed her a slow, gentle pass.
The ball hit her forearms...and immediately ricocheted sideways across the gym.
A boy nearby sighed loudly. "Dude."
The girl he was practicing with whispered, "Why is she even here if she can't catch on?"
Arielle's throat tightened.
"I'm… I'm really sorry," she told the coach. "I swear I'm trying."
"I know," he said gently. "Don't apologize."
Another beginner raised their hand. "Coach, can we move on to the serving drill already?"
Coach Daniel looked between the impatient group and Arielle, who was staring intensely at her own hands as if willing them to behave.
He hesitated.
Then made a decision.
"Okay, everyone," he called out, returning to the center. "We'll wrap up with serving basics."
The group cheered.
Arielle swallowed. Her stomach knotted. Serving? She wasn't ready.
Coach demonstrated the movements clearly. The group tried.
Balls soared through the air...wobbly, imperfect, but at least they went forward.
Arielle mimicked the posture. Tossed the ball.
And hit it straight into the gym floor.
Someone muffled a laugh.
"Did she just...?"
"Into the floor?"
"Oh wow…"
Her cheeks burned in humiliation.
The coach quickly stepped beside her. "Try again. Relax your wrist. You're too tense."
She took a breath. Tried again.
This time the ball shot into her own shoulder.
A few beginners burst into laughter.
"Okay, that's enough!" Coach Daniel snapped. The gym quieted instantly. "Nobody...and I mean nobody...laughs at someone who's learning. Understood?"
The group mumbled agreement, eyes lowered.
Arielle stared at the ground.
"Alright," the coach said gently, turning back to her. "It's okay, Arielle. Really. No one expects perfection on day one."
She nodded weakly, unable to speak.
But inside, her chest ached.
Not again.
Not another space where she wasn't enough.
When the session ended, the others walked out chatting, laughing, satisfied.
Arielle lingered awkwardly near the corner, pretending to pack her things more slowly, waiting for everyone to leave.
Coach Daniel approached her.
"Arielle right?"
She straightened, quickly wiping her eyes. "Y-yes?"
"You did fine."
She laughed dryly. "Coach… I couldn't even hit the ball properly."
"That's normal. Beginners come with different starting points."
"Most of them already knew how to play."
He scratched his head. "True. Most beginners here have at least high-school level or backyard experience."
"So I'm behind."
"You're not behind." He paused. "You're starting fresh. That's different. Different is good.""
She looked at her hands. They still felt warm from embarrassment. "I felt like I was slowing everyone down."
"You weren't slowing us down," he said. "But you do need more individual attention than the group class allows."
Her shoulders slumped. "I knew it."
He shook his head. "Not in a bad way. Learning the fundamentals from zero takes time."
Arielle stayed quiet.
Coach Daniel softened his voice. "Come tomorrow. Wednesday. Same time. Just you."
She blinked. "Just… me?"
"Yes. A special session to help you catch up before next week's mixed training."
Her eyes widened. "Mixed… pros and beginners?"
"Yep," he said with a sympathetic smile. "You'll want a little extra help before that."
Arielle swallowed.
A special session.
For her.
Because she wasn't catching on.
"Is that… really okay?" she whispered. "I don't want to be a burden."
"You're not a burden," he said firmly. "You showed up. You tried. That already makes you better than half the people who say they want to learn but never do."
Arielle looked down, touched by the kindness she didn't expect.
"Tomorrow," he repeated. "I'll walk you through everything slower, step by step. You'll get it."
She nodded timidly. "Okay. I'll come."
"Good." He smiled warmly. "Go home, rest, and don't be hard on yourself. You did something difficult today."
Arielle held her bag close to her chest. "Thank you, Coach."
As she stepped out of the gym into the cool night air, she let out a slow, shaky breath.
She wasn't good at volleyball.
She wasn't confident.
She wasn't flexible.
She wasn't anything the others were.
But tomorrow… someone was willing to teach her.
For now, that was enough to keep her walking forward.
On her way, it started raining. She ran to hide by the bus stop. A silver expensive looking car pulled up in front of her, and the window came down. "Do you mind getting in, I can drop you off." Her coach said bending to look at her through the car window.
She stared at him like she couldn't understand a thing he said. He looked different dressed up in white round neck and jeans. But the question was...was he this rich? From volleyball coaching?
"Arielle? "
"Oh...what if I get your car wet? "
"You're more important...just get in."
She reluctantly stepped in when he opened the door. She sat down and closed the door.
He didn't drive move immediately. He looked at her for a second then leaned towards her slowly. Her heart started beating fast. Was it a wrong choice to enter his car? Was the coach a pervert?