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I keep a groan from leaving my lips.
She’s not going to obliterate me; I’ve worked all break for this.
I tell myself repeatedly. But my brain keeps doubting it.
Instead of groaning, I chuckle in response.
“Heads or tails?” the official asks.
I look at Letty. I don’t have it in me to speak first.
“Tails,” she lets out.
I nod. “I’ll take heads.”
The official looks between the two of us before flipping the coin into the air. This coin toss is crucial as to who is going to pick the serve and receiving sides of the game from beginning to end.
It flips to heads.
I have the advantage.
Thank God, one thing is going right for me.
“Who serves?” the official asks.
But then I realize the weight of this choice rests solely on my shoulders, a responsibility that could potentially set the tone for the entire game.
One that could affect the match and beat Letty at the same time.
Maybe I didn’t want this choice as much as I thought.
Letty is on the other side of the net, poised and ready for the battle ahead. She quirks an eyebrow in my direction as it takes me a minute to decide. The crowd’s anticipation envelopes the venue, their murmurs and whispers a constant reminder of the importance of this decision.
I try to assess my options carefully, weighing the advantages and disadvantages of each scenario. If I chose to serve, I could seize control of the game from the very beginning, setting the pace and establishing my dominance. It would be an opportunity to assert myself, to dictate the tempo, and put Letty on the defensive right away. After all, if she does serve well the first time, she will win. It has been a curse that has dictated every game she’s ever played.
What if I serve and throw her off completely?
On the other hand, allowing Letty to serve first could lead to her fumbling the first shot of the game. Her serve is the confidence she holds and if she sabotages it herself, it may benefit me in the long run.
I could also observe her technique and shot selection, which could lead me to potentially decipher her weaknesses and formulate them into a more effective plan of attack.
But that would require me to adapt quickly and respond with precision, but the potential reward is enticing.
The decision-making process feels like a battle inside my brain, my mind grappling with the possibilities and potential consequences. The weight of the moment heightens my focus, intensifying the pressure as I contemplate the path that could give me the best chance of success.
“Ms. Luna, who serves?” the official asks, wanting to get the match started.
But it only makes me more nervous.
We have to start the game sooner or later and my deductive skills are waning with all the thoughts in my head.
It pains me to admit, but my mind is also somewhere else. Xavier isn’t gone from my mind. That kiss is haunting my psyche.
But I have to make a decision quickly, and after a few more moments, I make my choice. With a nod to the official, I announce my decision, my voice cutting through the silence of the court. The crowd leans in anticipation, awaiting the outcome of my selection.
“Letty serves,” I say, my voice shaky yet determined.
The words hang in the air, a definitive declaration that sets the stage for the match to come. Some groan at the decision, knowing that Letty dominates in her serve. But Letty’s face tells me something different. Her eyes change from determination to interest.
