AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Taking a deep breath, I get to my feet and soak in the win. Approaching the net, I shake Reid’s clammy hand.
‘Hope the ankle is okay,’ I say.
‘Thanks, it’ll be fine,’ he replies sourly, patting my back. ‘Good luck.’
Percy Jones makes his way onto the court as I wipe my face with my towel. Slinging it over my shoulder, I gather up the rest of my gear and step towards the cameras. He reeks of aftershave and cigar smoke.
Someone counts Percy in, and then the light above the camera turns red.
‘We’re at Rod Laver Arena with Gabriel Madani who has just triumphed over fifth seed Bailey Reid in four sets.’ He turns to me. ‘You’re causing quite the upset this year, aren’t you?’
‘You played great,’ says Phoebe as I step into the player’s room and give her a hug. ‘God, you reek.’
‘Thanks for coming,’ I say. ‘I mean it.’
‘I’m glad I could. I’m flying back to the States tomorrow.’ She runs her hands down my shoulders, squeezing my biceps. ‘I wish I could stay longer, but I know you’ll smash the next match.’
I close my eyes, dread filling me. ‘It’s Lukas, isn’t it?’
‘Not quite. Alanzo Ruiz. He’s up against Dylan Foster, the eighteen-year-old. But who knows, the kid might pull something out of his back pocket.’ She nudges me. ‘Lukas is up against Rod Lawson next round. They had a pretty tough semi-final battle at Indian Wells last year. Rod might come out on top. Or Lukas might get food poisoning. Hard to say.’
I snigger. ‘Is that a threat?’
‘I’m willing to do what I have to do,’ she jokes.
Behind us, Victor clears his throat. ‘Gabi, the media’s waiting.’
Saying goodbye to Phoebe, I leave my bag in the player’s room and reluctantly follow Victor into the media room. I might have won today, but I still hate speaking to the press.
The rapid-fire questions go like this:
‘How did you feel on the court?’
‘Good, a little wobbly at the start but I felt I played well.’
‘How did you muster the energy to come back in the first set?’
‘I don’t try to focus on winning the first set; I try to build a good momentum.’
‘How do you feel about possibly playing Alanzo Ruiz, the third seed, in the next round?’
‘Good. We’ve played before a few times but right now I’m going to focus on my recovery.’
A young woman with a bob of black hair raises her hand: ‘A new face was in your player’s box recently; do you mind telling us who they are?’
I almost choke on my water.
‘A friend,’ I reply. ‘That’s all.’
‘A friend who’s caused quite the frenzy on Twitter,’ she replies.
I lean into the microphone. ‘His identity is private. Please respect that.’
Victor catches my eye. Immediately, I know I’ve said the wrong thing. I’m a fish who’s just taken the bait.
‘Thanks for your time,’ I tell the room, rising from my seat. Victor practically steers me out of the room and into the hallway. I shrug him off.
‘I thought you killed the story,’ I say. After everything Noah told me at the beach, the urge to protect him is overwhelming.
