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Chapter 15
Max
On only his secondday back at school, Phoenix seemed to be on a death wish. He was supposed to be doing half days for the week, and yesterday he’d gone home after lunch, but today, not only had he come in early to do this physical therapy in the gym, but he was insisting on staying to watch the girls tennis team.
He’d changed his walking frame today, to one that had its own seat. He was managing much better because the height was set specially for him, whereas the school chairs had been different which meant he’d ached all through Chemistry. Of course, he didn’t say anything till after class.
“Look, I can video it for you if you like,” I said.
“I’m good,” he said, and in fact, he’d taken advantage of his special dispensation and was cutting class to get to the courts at 2:30, which is when the games started.
And I took advantage of being his best friend and said he needed my help.
The girls were warming up on court when we arrived. Taylor was on Court 2, which was the main court. As it was impossible for Phoenix to climb the stands, I guided his walking frame to the end of the row so I could sit next to him. I made him put his special pillow on the seat, because even though he denied it, I could see he was fatigued.
Within minutes, Phoenix was surrounded by a bunch of tennis moms, Mrs. Holbrun, Mrs. O’Day and Mrs. Lee among them. They fussed around him and cooed about how good he was looking, and how great it was that he was back at school. I took the opportunity to seek out Brandon and waved to him. It would be better to sit high in the stands to watch the match, but I didn’t want to abandon Phoenix.
Taylor’s opponent was a sophomore, Keira Starsky, touted as an up-and-comer, and she had an entourage of supporters cheering loudly even during the warm up. Sitting in the front row, we were only yards from her, but not once did Taylor acknowledge either me or Phoenix when she retrieved the balls.
When Keira won the first game, the St. Augustine’s supporters clapped madly. It was excessive in my opinion and not good tennis etiquette. When Taylor served a double fault on her first point, the cheers were louder. My heart was thumping in my chest as I recorded the stat. Taylor walked around the baseline, seeming to take a deep breath. She stepped up to the line with her game face on, and looked up to the stands. Not to me, to her father. I turned around to see Brandon clenching his fist in the air, urging her on.
Taylor’s next serve went straight down the center tee, well out of Keira’s reach. Phoenix applauded loudly, and he continued throughout the match, like he had gotten a second wind.
The St. Augustine’s supporters were subdued when Taylor won the match 6-4, 6-4.
“Wow,” Phoenix said. “You never said she wasthisgood!”
“I did,” I said. “I need to get you home.”
“I’ll stay for the doubles.”
“No you won’t,” I said. ”Let’s go.”
“I thought you’re doing stats.”
“You look like you’re gonna die,” I said, and I wasn’t even exaggerating much. Phoenix was continually shifting in his seat which indicated he was barely tolerating the pain.
“I’ll text Mom,” he said.
“Are you sure? I can take you.”
“Stay and do your stats,” he said, already tapping away on his phone. He pushed himself up to standing with a grimace, confirming that he was in agony.
“Hey!” Suddenly Taylor’s hand was on Phoenix’s shoulder. “Thanks for cheering. I appreciated it.” Her eyes never lifted to me.
“You’re welcome.” Phoenix broke into a wide grin. “Awesome game.”
