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I nodded dumbly, not liking how his gaze narrowed and his lips were curling into a smirk.
“And what did you think?”
I put my racquet down and cleared my throat. “She aced Bianca about five times, she was mixing it up, serving out wide and down the tee. She has an awesome backhand, and she wasn’t afraid to come to the net either.”
“That’s good. Sounds like you’re a member of her fan club,” Clay said with a laugh, causing my skin to flush again. “And looks like you’re getting your tennis groove back.” He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I’ll have to call her about it later, but I’ve got a lesson now, bro.” He gestured for me to pick up the balls that were scattered at the other end of the court. I dashed off with the basket, while he greeted his next client, an older man.
I waved him goodbye and jumped into my truck. Since summer I’d been driving the truck as my regular vehicle, because there were going to be days when I needed to mow lawns after school. Dad had asked me to pick up another couple of garden waste bags for the business. It meant driving across to the mall in River Valley.
Striding through the garden center I knew exactly where they were located. With a ton of homework and assignments to work on, I made my selection quickly. On my way to the cashier desk, I stopped suddenly and back tracked to the plant department. The little house in Fox Avenue could do with a makeover, especially in the front yard. Dad had said it was only a temporary lease, but still, it would be nice if the residents had a bit of color. The planter boxes by the front porch hadn’t been tended to for a while and made the house look sad. Typically, tenants were hopeless gardeners, but a few easy-care shrubs and flowers should survive.
I perused the plants, my eyes connecting with some pots of lavender. Fragrant, pretty and hardy, their blooms would hopefully last through fall and give a lift to the place. I put several in my cart, along with some other small bedding plants in bud, bags of potting mix and mulch.
My only problem now was to find time to plant them before they died in the back of my truck.
Chapter 5
Taylor
Mrs. Stephens calledus to attention at the end of training. She was excited about the upcoming schedule, our first game at home against Ashville Prep next week. I’d hit with all the other girls and could see the team had potential to go far. There were eight girls on the roster, and we’d play six singles and three doubles.
We were given our rankings, with me as number one for singles, Bianca number two, Grace number three, Addison and Jorja four and five, down to Esther, a freshman, playing number six. Coach said that at our next training we would try doubles combinations, and she’d organized a bonding session for us on the weekend, to build on the team atmosphere. That was how we’d achieve our goals, by creating a good team environment. Or so she said.
I wondered if she’d noticed the glacial cool looks Bianca had been throwing in my direction at every opportunity. Okay, I understood that nobody liked being beaten—I certainly didn’t—but Bianca’s dislike for me had started way before her defeat today. She’d purposely set me wrong about the gym session and the uniform. And why? Was this just the proverbial Queen Bee getting buzzed over the new girl? Asserting her authority over me?
If it was, I had no time for it. Tennis was my focus. I didn’t want to be involved with the petty games she was playing.
Competition in the tennis world was fierce, but it was never at the expense of causing friction between players. Rivalries in the sport were legendary, and as my ranking had improved and I’d started to play tournaments further afield, I had constantly come up against the same opponents. Like, I’d lost to Coco Haggerty at the Junior Mid West tournament, but we were friends who played together in doubles.
Why Bianca wanted to cause a rivalry within the team confounded me.
This is what I told Dad later that evening. As he was cooking dinner, he’d wanted to know all about my school day, and I had no qualms in telling him about my intrusion into the football team’s gym session. He laughed, but thought it was plain mean of Bianca. He didn’t want me to stand for such nonsense.
“Actually,” he said, “wasn’t there something in your scholarship contract that allows you access to the school’s gym for training outside of class times?”
“Yeah, but the football team books it out in the morning.”
