Losing at Love (26 page)

~

“Indy,” Dom said, tapping her shaking leg. “You in there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” she said, looking up at her coach. They were in the player’s lounge and Jasmine was sitting just a few tables away, also waiting for the call to go out to the court. “Game plan. Don’t get into long rallies, first serves and don’t get cute.”

“Good,” he said. “Play tough, play smart.”

“I got it, Dom,” she said, plastering a smile across her face and nodding in Jasmine’s direction. “Go ahead.”

As he walked away, her stomach twisted again and then her eyes widened as bile started to rise in her throat. Her eyes flashed around the room and she held her breath and then swallowed down whatever was attempting to come up. She needed to calm down. How did she used to do it? Calm down whenever she felt like this? Glancing across the room, she saw Dom talking to Jasmine and she remembered. Jasmine had calmed her down. Their partnership, going out onto the court together, and now?
Now that was gone and it hit her like a ton of bricks. The bile rose again and she pushed herself out of the chair, sprinting for the bathroom. She was so screwed.

~

There was a huge crowd, even more people than had shown up at Court 1 for her match against Penny in the main draw, and the tournament had anticipated it, scheduling the match at Court 17, which held more spectators than the normal junior match would draw. What she wouldn’t give now for that out-of-the-way court she’d played her first-round match on, just a chain link fence and only enough room for a couple of dozen people in the stands.

Indy’s stomach rolled, but thankfully, there was nothing left to come up. She could practically see herself back at OBX facing Jasmine. She’d come out on top in that match, but that was mostly because Jasmine had tightened up and Indy had been able to forget the nerves, anger replacing any fear she’d had on the court. She couldn’t count on the anger now. If anything, Jasmine had reason to be angry with her, not the other way around.

She barely remembered warm-ups, just going through the motions; she could feel Jasmine’s eyes on her the entire time, probing, questioning, probably wondering what the hell was wrong with her. She’d know in a minute.

“Players to the center of the court,” the chair umpire said, waving both of them to the net. Indy waited and took a deep steadying breath before standing from her chair and walking to the net.

“Miss Gaffney, call it in the air,” the umpire said.

“Tails,” she said, and the coin landed on the green grass of the Wimbledon court. Though it was wearing in patches from use throughout the week, at the net, it was still pristine.

He bent over to grab the coin. “It is tails,” he declared. “Miss Gaffney.”

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out and she hesitated. She should serve. That was her bread and butter.

“Miss Gaffney.”

“Sorry, yeah, I’ll serve.” She looked up to the players box and everyone was there. Teddy, Penny, Alex, Paolo and that Natalie girl who was playing doubles with Jasmine, bouncing in her seat and snapping pictures with her phone. Just behind them sat Dom, Jack, Caroline and apparently, Mr. and Mrs. Randazzo had decided to take a flight in. And in a moment where she was sure her own subconscious was just screwing with her, she wished her dad had decided to just show up, like he had in France.

The ball boy offered her a few options and she chose two at random, tucking one underneath her skirt, the other she bounced beneath her racket face, getting the feel of the court.

“Play,” the umpire called and at his words, her stomach did yet another somersault. There was no way to calm down, so she just had to play with it and however this was going to turn out, she’d have to live with it.

Taking a deep breath, she reared back and fired a serve down the center of the court as hard as she possibly could. It felt good, getting some tension out of her body.

“Out!” the line judge called, raising an arm to indicate that it had landed in the opposite service box.

She pulled the second ball out from the hidden pocket in her skirt and sent another screaming liner toward the general direction of the middle of the court.

“Out,” the judge yelled again, the same arm rising.

“Love – 15.”

“Okay, easy back on the throttle, Indy,” she muttered to herself, taking up another ball. Except if she did that, she took away her best weapon. She needed to get that power serve in. It was the only way she was going to win this match. Jasmine would run her all over the court if she just played to get her serves in. She’d get bogged down in long points and with that new backhand of hers, there wouldn’t be anything Indy could do about it.

She was so screwed.

June 28
^th

“Game, Miss Randazzo. Miss Randazzo leads the second set, five games to two.”

Jasmine pumped her fist and pointed to the ball boy, who was also holding onto her towel. The day had started out pleasant, but the late afternoon sun had burned off all the cloud cover and it was pounding down on the court. She’d worked up a fine sheen of sweat, but it was nothing like the heat they trained in back home. At the thought of home, her eyes traveled to the box in the corner of the court where her parents were sitting.

Dom had texted her early that morning, her phone vibrating on her nightstand. The message had been simple, that there was a surprise for her downstairs. She figured maybe he’d sent her some new rackets or that maybe her parents had sent good luck flowers. But as she’d descended the stairs, she’d caught sight of them standing in the foyer and had flown down the rest of the stairs, letting out a high-pitched shriek as she launched herself into her dad’s arms. Just a month ago in Paris, she hadn’t wanted her parents there. She was afraid she would embarrass them with her performance, but now, she was flying high. She knew she could win and she wanted them there to see it. She thought Dom had been the one to invite them, but when she asked, her dad’s eyes had flickered across the room to where Teddy sat. He nodded and then quickly excused himself to go see Penny’s match. She’d just managed to utter a thank you to his retreating back, completely bewildered by the gesture, but then her mom had swept her up into a hug. Teddy was in the box today, sitting just behind her parents and apparently this was his peace offering. It was a pretty damn good one and when the match was over, she was going to thank him properly.

Her eyes moved from him, down the row to the man who’d been the source of conflict between her and her best friend. Paolo’s eyes were on her. She could feel that steely blue gaze following her all over the court and it sent a wave of comfort over her. He’d kept silent for most of the match, so had the rest of the people in the box, a nod of respect to both her and Indy. But she knew that he was cheering her on, knew that he was behind her all the way. Now, she just had to finish it.

“Time,” the chair umpire said and she stood, grabbing her racket and her towel and tossing it to the ball boy again. One more game and this match would be hers and there would only be a couple of matches standing between her and the Wimbledon Junior Championship. But one match at a time. She’d gotten cocky the last time she and Indy had played, had thought victory was fait accompli. Jasmine wasn’t going to make that same mistake twice. Four more points and then she could celebrate.

It was Indy’s serve and after a disastrous first set, the girl who had one of the fiercest serves in the world had backed off considerably just to get the ball in play. She knew Indy hadn’t
wanted
to do it, but after dropping her first two games on serve, it had been necessary, though too late to salvage the set. Ever since, Jasmine took full advantage of knowing that anything Indy sent her way would be more than manageable to return.

“Play,” the chair umpire declared and Indy didn’t hesitate, placing a nice, safe serve in the center of the box. Jasmine stepped into it and fired a forehand cross-court. Indy managed to block it back and they both retreated to the baseline, sending groundstroke after groundstroke over the net. Then Indy made the mistake of going to Jasmine’s backhand side and she swiveled her hips, unleashing her new one-handed backhand over the net and down the line, a shot that would have been impossible for her just a week earlier.

“Love – 15.”

The crowd cheered and for the first time all match, Jasmine actually noticed how many people were there watching them. They were one of the later day session matches and the main courts had cleared out already so the stands were completely full. Somehow, a junior girls’ match had become the most interesting battle on the Wimbledon grounds.

After a quick wipe of the towel over her face, she returned to the baseline and waited for Indy to gather herself on the other side of the court. The tall blonde was taking her time, using the towel on her face, arms and legs, then finally taking the ball girl’s offerings and tossing a few of the options back. Delaying the inevitable.

Finally, Indy approached the baseline and Jasmine set herself, bent over at the waist, her racket out in front, weight on the balls of her feet. Indy coiled her body down toward the ground and then exploded through the ball, taking a chance that Jasmine wouldn’t be prepared for it. She was. Her return was even faster than the serve that preceded it, burying it deep into the corner before Indy could even take a step in that direction.

“Love – 30.”

“Come on!” Jasmine yelled, pumping her fist and the crowd roared back at her. It had been a hell of a shot.

Two more. Two more points and she’d have this.

“Quiet please,” the chair umpire asked the fans and they settled into a low buzz.

Indy was ready faster this time, bouncing on her feet, her usual serve routine and Jasmine stood at the baseline, ready for anything. The serve came hard and fast again, but long.

“Out.”

They reset and Jasmine bounced up in perfect position as another laser beam fired across the court. She fired a return and it landed long, but the judge on her side of the court had already called, “Out!”

Double fault.

“Love – 40.”

Her chest tightened and so she inhaled slowly through her nose, trying to block out noise on the court. The crowd was fired up and applauding, but Jasmine studied the strings of her racket, pushing them back into straight lines that had become a little funky dealing with the velocity of Indy’s serve. The next point had to be just another point, just like the first point of the match, no more, no less. Another deep breath and she moved to the baseline.

The next seconds were a blur. A serve wide and high came over the net and she just reacted with her backhand, slicing it back over the court and then the words, “Game. Set. Match, 6-2, 6-2, Miss Randazzo.”

Then nothing, just a haze of shaking Indy’s hand, then the chair umpire's and heading out to the center of the court to applaud the crowd who applauded her right back. She’d blown a kiss toward the box and she’d watched as her parents thought it was to them for a moment, before Paolo lifted his own hand to his lips and blew one right back. Her dad’s face had been priceless.

Now she was back in the locker room, accepting congratulations from other players, most of who were arriving for the night session but had caught the match on the closed circuit TV in the locker room and player’s lounge. She pulled the draw from her racket bag and took a look at her potential opponents, recognizing the names almost immediately, both were girls she’d faced before and both were girls she’d beaten. Her breath caught in her throat. She could win this whole thing. In just a couple more days, she could be the Wimbledon Junior Champion and with the way she and Natalie were playing in doubles, maybe she could take home two trophies.

“Hey,” a voice called from the end of the row and Jasmine looked up, folding the paper neatly and placing it back in her bag.

“Hey,” she said back, turning to see Indy walking toward her, showered and dressed. Jasmine shook her head. “What the hell happened to you out there?”

Indy sat down on the bench opposite her and shrugged. “Got nervous.”

“Clearly. I thought you’d figured that out.”

“Yeah me too. Listen,” Indy said. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

Jasmine shook her head. “You did what you felt was right.”

“Never thought being a pro would make me a shitty friend.”

“It’s part of the job,” Jasmine said. “Did Jack tell you?”

“He did. It’s awesome news. He’s going to do big things for you.”

“He’s really good at his job. I heard you signed with Adidas.”

“News travels fast.”

“That’s a really big deal, Indy.”

“I know, sort of part of what got me nervous.”

“You gotta stop doing that. When we get home, we’ll get you to a sports psychologist or something.”

“Great, a shrink. I can tell him all about my issues.”

Jasmine reached out and hesitated for a second before squeezing Indy’s shoulder. “You can leave me out of it.”

Indy’s brow furrowed.

“No, I mean, we’re cool. I’m not one of your issues, unless that beating you just took scarred you for life.”

Indy snorted. “Ouch, Jas. Too soon.”

Jasmine giggled. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” Indy said, “but I guess I deserved it.”

“Maybe a little.”

“Are you two done yet?” a new voice joined in, followed by the click of metal hitting the ground. Penny was swinging herself between her crutches, her foot in an air cast. “There are a lot of people out there who want to congratulate you.” She nodded to Indy, “and console you.”

“Maybe we should just stay in here for a little while,” Indy said. “Come on, Pen, take a load off.” She patted the empty spot on the bench beside her.

“That’s all I’m going to be doing for a while,” Penny said, lowering herself to the wooden seat and leaning her crutches next to her. “No tennis for me.”

“Sucks,” Jasmine and Indy said at the same time.

“It does, but that means I get to live the hard-court season vicariously through you guys and then New York.”

“New York,” Indy said, the side of her mouth quirking up.