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Then she pulls my hair. “Owwww!”
Reaching behind me, I manage to strike back with a purple nurple to her waist.
“Ouch!!” she screams. Which she follows up by tackling me, and before I know what’s what, we’re rolling around on the ground. All I say to that is thank the Lord it’s a clay court. We both look up into Jen’s horrified expression, glance at each other, and start to laugh hysterically.
Sisters, what can I say.
“Jen, you can go. That’s enough for today,” Bebe tells her student between fits of laughter.
“Okay, Coach.” Jen turns her wary gaze on me. “Nice meeting you,” she says to me. The queer look on her face says she’s not entirely sure if she means it. Still laughing, I wave in return.
“You’re right,” I tell my sister. Gripping one knee at a time, I pull it up and over, stretching out my back.
“You’re overcompensating for weakness in your lower back.”
I grunt in agreement. “Coach has gotten lazy. He stopped paying attention to my mechanics.”
“So get a new one. I never liked him anyway.”
“I think I need a break,” I mumble, finally brave enough to voice the truth out loud.
“What?”
“I’m burnt out.” I look over into Bebe’s wide eyes. “I need to catch my breath. You know what I’ve been doing for the last fifteen years?”
“What?”
“Tennis. Morning, noon, and night. I don’t even know how to get around London and I’ve been living there for six years! I don’t have a single friend. What kind of a person doesn’t have a single real friend? And I’m tired. I don’t know if I can do it anymore. Say something. Are you mad?”
“Why would I be mad?”
My old friend guilt rears its familiar head. “Because you want it so badly and I…I don’t, not like I used to.”
“Is this why you never come home? Because somehow you got it in your head I resent you for being able to play?” She gets up on her elbows to stare me down. “If I didn’t like this new prosthesis so much I’d take it off and beat you with it.” Her eyes narrow on me. “Is this why you never ask me to come to your matches?”
A pang of guilt hits me.
“I always send tickets. I don’t say anything because, you know, Mom and Dad never wanted to talk tennis in the house after what happened to you.”
A pair of the latest special-edition Nikes moves into my line of sight. Annabelle sees them too and we both fall silent. My focus climbs from the feet to the face of the man standing over us.
“Oliver…what are you doing here?”
* * *
It’s my parents’ turn to host the Sunday night football barbecue, a tradition they’ve had with their friends and neighbors for as long as I can remember. The backyard is at capacity. Seems like everyone we know has come to watch the Cowboys play the Eagles on the TV they set up in the back yard.
I glance across the collection of heads and find Oliver talking to my father who’s manning the grill. After we left the tennis club we went straight back to my place. Not much was said. Basically, I’m not speaking to him. He gives me an ultimatum and now wants to act like nothing happened? His audacity is breathtaking.
It’s so clear to me now. Spending every minute of our days together has concealed the fact that we’ve been drifting apart. That we’ve been staying together out of convenience.
Being a professional athlete makes for a lonely life. We’re constantly surrounded by people that work for us, whose job it is to keep us alienated from the rest of the world. Which is why a lot of us end up dating those who work for us.
Oliver and I fell easily into a relationship. We were living together by the fourth week of dating. Apart from the obvious physical attraction, he was older, knowledgeable. Successful in his own right. We were both committed to our careers, alike in the best way possible.
Before me, he dated a well-known actress for years who was prone to drama. Oliver hates drama. I never asked for more than he was willing to give and in return he taught me how to handle living in the public eye. I thought we had everything in common. Now that I’ve had distance and time to consider it, however, it’s starting to look like it was only one thing.
Noah walks into the backyard with Jana in tow and my heart slams to a stop so fast it leaves skid marks. I shouldn’t be surprised he brought her. They’re together––it’d be weird if he didn’t. And yet, I am surprised…and oddly hurt. I know I have no right to be, but tell that to my heart. It feels what it feels.
