Match Point (ASOUE)

Chapter Five

I practised for as long as I could, doing anything to stop myself from thinking too hard about the news. I hit serves and practised aiming for different angles over and over again, until my arm ached as much as my heart and the other courts started to fill up around me. Then, I packed up my things and hit the showers, not having too long until Quigley and Violet's match started and I would have to get going.

When Olaf had first left- after I had expelled some anger- I had tried to rationalise things in my head. I had tried to think of the positives, of which there were few, and tried to come up with a solution. The hope that it might not be too late and I just needed to change his mind was shot down by the fact he had already signed me up for doubles. And while I could've argued for him to put me in for singles as well (as you could usually be registered up until six weeks before the event) I knew that to do that would be to make a fool of myself. Even focusing on singles like I had been, I hadn't been good enough. If I spread myself even thinner, who knew how badly I would end up playing?

I didn't know how Violet did it, competing in both doubles and singles and still staying bright and positive and having enough time to spend with family and loved ones. Her life must've been nonstop and yet she never let her fatigue or lack of free time turn into a resentment for the sport. She was an inspiration, truly.

Once I was done freshening up, I headed to the National Tennis Centre, dropped my bag off in the player locker room (taking full advantage of the fact that my designated locker was still mine until the end of the grand slam) and then quickly went to the cafe, praying I didn't run into anyone I knew. I usually avoided the place like the plague but I was gasping for a drink, having finished the water I'd taken with me to the courts.

I held my breath as I walked round the corner, but was relieved to see that it wasn't actually too busy. I joined the short line with my water and was minding my own business when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Please be Quigley or Violet, I thought to myself as I turned around, despite knowing that they would be practising instead of making cafeteria runs.

Of course it wasn't them. It was Carmelita Spats.

"I thought that was you!" she exclaimed as she took in my face, her voice sickly sweet. It was almost enough to make me forget why I hated her. "What're you doing here? I thought you went out in the first round," she said. I was immediately brought to my senses.

Obviously I went out in the first round, because I played you in the first round and you won, I wanted to say. But instead I went for, "I'm here for my brother. He plays mixed doubles."

Carmelita pretended to think for a moment. "Oh, yes, I think I've heard of him. Quinten!"

"Quigley," I corrected.

She ignored me. "Speaking of doubles, I'm going to be playing them starting in Australia. Just thought I needed a bit of a challenge doing that alongside singles. Mixes things up a bit. My coach thinks it's a perfect idea, given my age and successes so far. She said that while I'm young and spritely, I should branch out and really test my abilities."

I didn't think I'd ever felt young and spritely since I entered the tour but I didn't say as much. I couldn't have anyway, even if I'd wanted to, because Carmelita took it upon herself to recount to me every single one of her wins and every positive media piece that had been done about her during her short career, going as far as to bring an article up on her phone and read it out to me word for word.

Carmelita then took the time to put away her phone and look me up and down. "Would you never consider doubles? It might help you actually control the court. Plus, you'd have someone to hit your forehands for you since yours are unbelievably sloppy." She then pretended to inspect her nails, but the ghost of a smirk graced her glossed lips.