Love Match (3 page)

The stands exploded in a burst of cheers. Even Maya had to clap begrudgingly. Nicole had earned the applause. It was only right to join in. Besides, Maya didn't want anyone seeing her sitting there in silence. That would really give the people behind her something to talk about.

The crowd outside the women's locker room was ten deep. Everyone wanted a piece of Nicole and Donata. The tennis club's publicist and her staff desperately tried to herd the reporters into the press conference, but no one wanted to go.

Nicole's reputation for off-the-cuff comments made this prime stalking area for a good quote about the game. Once she was settled into the press conference with her handlers around, she'd be less likely to blurt out one of her choice comments.

A familiar, clipped British accent rose above most voices in the hall. Nicole's agent, Jordan Cromwell, was on crowd control, but she wasn't pushing the reporters anywhere. She entertained her own court of press, firing off sound bites about Nicole's game. The comments were, oddly, more defensive than celebratory.

“Nicole hasn't had the chance to get much practice in with her packed schedule lately,” Jordan said. “We were planning on skipping Toronto entirely, but you all know how she hates to disappoint the fans.”

Maya was beginning to think she'd seen a different game
than everyone else in the stadium. Why was everyone acting like Nicole didn't have one of the best games of her life? Was it that much of a surprise that Donata Zajacova was still a strong player?

Maya glanced at her watch. She had to board the airport shuttle soon if she wanted to make it back to school on time. This was her last chance to catch Donata. If only she could get into the locker room.

The tennis club's publicist and Nicole's agent were so busy with the press that they didn't notice Maya pushing her way through the crowd. That left the two security guards stationed at the door. She was prepared to tell them she'd forgotten something and beg them to let her slip in, but they both recognized her from the day before. The door was opened before she could even begin the lie.

“Thanks,” she said as she slipped inside.

Even empty, the women's locker room seemed small. It was nothing like the palatial changing rooms at the Academy. All the girls studying tennis could fit in those, along with the guys, the swimmers, and half the football players.

Maya pushed two particular football players from her mind as she went about finding Donata. She'd managed to successfully keep those football players out of her thoughts for most of the tournament. No reason to start now.

It wouldn't be too difficult to locate Donata in the small room. The main problem was avoiding Nicole.

SLAM!

Problem solved.

The slam came from two rows ahead. Even though it made
more sense that the loser of the match would be slamming lockers, that didn't seem Donata's style. That was a Nicole King signature slam.

Maya cautiously stepped into the first row between the lockers, careful not to make a sound in case she'd been wrong about Nicole's location.

She wasn't. Donata had the whole row to herself. She'd finished changing for the press conference and was sitting silently on the bench in a linen pantsuit. She was probably preparing herself mentally to deal with the media. The reporters were ten times more intense than they'd been following the semifinal match. Maya didn't want to disturb her, but there wasn't time to wait.

“Donata?” Maya barely spoke above a whisper. She also didn't want to alert Nicole that she was there.

The way Donata's face lit up when she saw Maya was more than she ever could have expected. “Maya! I was worried I wouldn't get to see you again.”

SLAM!

Maya assumed that slam was meant for her, but Donata shrugged it off as she patted the bench for Maya to come sit beside her. “You really put me through the paces yesterday. Thanks for that. It got me better prepared for today.”

As she sat, Maya suspected that comment was intended for Nicole's ears as much as her own. “Donata, I don't think I had anything to do—”

Donata cut her off. “Nonsense. And call me Dona. Everyone does.”

“Thank you!”

“No need to thank me,” she said. “It's my name. Are you sticking around for the presser?”

Maya checked the time on her cell phone. “I have to get back to school.”

“You go to the Academy, right?”

“Yes!” Maya was surprised that Dona knew anything about her. “Did you go there?”

“No,” Dona said. “The Academy wasn't what it is now back when I was your age. But I'm on the board of directors. Nails Reed likes to stack the board with people who can bring in donors.”

“That's right,” Maya said. “I knew that.” Big-name celebrities in all sports were part of the school board. Famous faces were useful when it came time for fund-raising.

“Truth be told, I haven't been by the school in a while,” Dona admitted. “If you're any indication of the current crop of students, I should swing by more often.”

Maya blushed. “Thank you.”

“You have to stop doing that,” Dona said.

Maya looked down at herself. She wasn't doing anything. “Doing what?”

“You need to learn how to take a compliment,” Dona said. “It shouldn't always seem like a surprise.”

“Oh.” Maya felt her face going red again. She couldn't help it. Getting a compliment from one of the top players in the world was a surprise. It would take some getting used to.

Another top player in the game stuck her head around the corner locker. “Excuse me.” Nicole's tone was more filled with
anger than courtesy. “I told Jordan and that publicist woman that I did not want to be disturbed.”

Even though Nicole was looking right at Maya, it was Donata who replied, voice full of charm. “Oh, I'm so sorry. Was our private conversation disturbing you? This locker room is rather small, but Maya and I were just catching up. Hope you don't mind.”

“I do, actually.”

“Well, then I'm sorry again. But you look ready to me. If you'd like to go first, I'll happily wait until after you've spoken with the reporters.”

Maya sucked in her breath waiting for Nicole to explode. Everyone knew the winner went second in postmatch press conferences. That's just how it was done. But Nicole remained calm as she held up her makeup bag. “I still need to put on my game face.”

Dona was just as cool. “I thought your game face was always on.”

“Oh, it is,” Nicole said. “But every now and then I like to freshen things up a bit. You should try it.”

“Some of us don't require any freshening up at all,” Dona said.

Maya felt like she was watching a rematch, but instead of tennis balls, they were throwing shade at each other.

“You're on in five minutes,” Nicole reminded her.

“They won't start without me.” Dona's smile did not falter. “I'll be ready before your time is up.”

Nicole walked away, letting out a huff of annoyance as she
went. The sound of her footsteps tapping on the locker room floor got softer as she put some distance between them.

Dona's smile relaxed a bit as she focused back on Maya. “Of course, the Academy produces all kinds of students.”

“I'm pretty sure she was like that before she started there,” Maya said. She could easily imagine a five-year-old Nicole ruling the playground, deciding who got to swing on the swings and who did the pushing.

“So, what's next, Maya?” Dona asked. “Will you be at Skyborne Cup?”

“I haven't decided yet,” Maya said. The Skyborne Cup—named for the car company that sponsored it—was one of the signature events of the year. It was still a couple months away, but Maya wasn't sure she was ready for competition at that level.

“You should seriously consider it,” Dona said. “Everyone's going to be there. And you're part of everyone now, kiddo.”

“I'll think about it.”

“Better decide soon. The deadline is coming up.” Dona checked her watch. “You should slip out the back. The reporters will be getting settled by now, but some stragglers may be sticking around outside. They might try to get you to talk about the final. That's fine with me, if you want, but like I said yesterday—”

“Always leave 'em wanting more,” Maya said.

Dona smiled again and hugged her good-bye.

Maya agreed with the advice, but in all honesty, she mainly wanted to avoid answering any more questions. She was tired
of being “on.” The problem was, her escape route took her right by the bathroom where Nicole was primping.

Maya made her way to the back exit walking as lightly as she could, but her shoes betrayed her by clicking with every step. This was the downside of Renee's fashion advice. She'd be much more comfortable in sneakers than heels—quieter, too.

The water was running in one of the sinks in the bathroom area. Maya carefully peeked in the doorway as she passed, but stopped when she saw Nicole making herself up in the mirror. Her hand shook as she applied mascara. It was so bad that she had to hold on to the wrist of her right hand with her left as she guided the brush onto her eyelashes.

Maya knew what it was like for her body to be weak following an intense match. Her legs were even sorer now than yesterday. But this was different. Something was wrong.

Maya debated saying something to Nicole, but she never got the chance. Nicole caught her looking from the mirror. “Get! Out!”

The temptation to act like a concerned friend passed and Maya left. They weren't friends anymore. In truth, they never had been. Nicole had been manipulating Maya for weeks. But that was over and Maya had learned from the experience. The Academy was tough, but it just made her tougher. This tournament had proven as much. She'd made the right decision in staying at the school.

Maya may not have won the Ontario Open, but people were talking about her like she did. More importantly, they
were treating her like she did. Maya didn't need to stick around for the final press conference. She didn't need any additional interviews. She'd done what she'd come to do. She did more than she'd hoped to do, actually. Now it was time to go home.

Funny how the Academy was starting to feel like home.

The hug went on longer than the one Maya shared with her parents when they saw her off at the bus station when she first left for the Academy. It was beginning to feel almost as long as her semifinal match. Maya had only been gone a week. Cleo was just away for a long weekend. But Renee held on to them like they'd just come back from an extended tour of duty. It was weird, but also kind of nice. Maya never had a friendship like this before.

Renee finally let go, stepping back while smoothing out the wrinkles on her dress. “Don't you two ever leave me again!”

Cleo cracked her neck. She wasn't used to hugs like that either. “It's going to be hard to compete in future tournaments if we never leave school.”

“We'll host them all here,” Renee said. “We have the space for it.”

Renee was right. The six hundred acres of the Academy
grounds contained some of the best sports facilities in the world. Tennis courts made of clay, asphalt, grass, and carpet, an Olympic-size swimming pool, and two golf courses designed by the leading course architects were only the tip of the iceberg. But as much as the school was considered one of the premiere institutions in sports training, Maya doubted the tennis, swim, and golf associations would be willing to relocate all their events there.

“Nails Reed would love that,” Maya said. The headmaster constantly worked to enhance the image of his school. Maya had been caught up in his drive for promotion. She'd only been at the school for a few months, but her face was already on the Academy brochures.

“Everyone would come to compete against the two newest shining stars in tennis and golf.” Renee dropped onto Cleo's bed. Her nose crinkled as she landed on the thin mattress with the squeaky springs. Renee came from a different life and a different side of campus. She wasn't used to slumming it in Watson Hall like Maya and Cleo. She was getting better at hiding her discomfort in the bare-bones room, though.

“I'm no shining star,” Cleo said.

“At least you won your tournament,” Maya said.

“You won in the press.” Renee opened up her laptop. “That's all that matters. Look at all these stories. I bookmarked them.”

Renee handed the computer over to Maya. The top-of-the-line laptop was dressed in a designer sleeve that matched Renee's purple shoes. It was like her computer was just another accessory rather than an expensive piece of technology. Yes, Renee and Maya came from vastly different sides of campus.

Several stories were bookmarked, but Maya didn't need to read any of them. Both the planes she'd taken had Wi-Fi, as well as the airport she stopped in for the brief layover. She'd spent the entire trip reading her own press. She would never admit that to her friends because she didn't want to be obnoxious about it, but all the stories had been very positive.

Maya opened up a particularly effusive blog post and pretended to read it for the first time. “Oh, this is nice.”

“But the best part is how they're totally trashing Nicole.” Cleo grabbed the computer. The pastel design clashed with her black leather jacket and shredded jeans with the artfully placed gray paint splatters. “Check this out.”

Maya took the computer back. It was another article she'd already seen, written by Maxwell Lexington—or
Maxie
, as Dona had called him. It was about Nicole's disappointing struggle to win the final against a player she should have shut out of the game from the start.

Maya didn't feel like celebrating over the article. Aside from the fact that it was mean, it was also just plain wrong. Maya had been there. Nicole played well. She was certainly better than the writer led anyone to believe.