BASELINE ✸ Art Donaldson

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Six. The Games We Play

      TATUM DIDN'T KNOW WHY SHE AGREED TO BE PATRICK'S COACH. It wasn't helping anyone.

Not Patrick and especially not her. All it did was give herself another thing to compete against Tashi with. And she hated that.

But that didn't mean Tatum was going to go back on it. She sat with her leg crossed over the other, observing Patrick's match — scanning for things to critique him on.

But honestly, Tatum never was good with the small things and Patrick was already near perfect.

His form was fixed and his backhand was wildly powerful. There was nothing much for the girl to do but watch and wait.

Patrick's racket hits the bright green ball across the court but his opponent isn't fast enough to reach it.

As he scored another point with ease, she couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy creeping in.

Leaning forward slightly, Tatum rested her chin on the back of her clasped hands, watching the ball go back and forth as the crowd grew louder with anticipation.

The rhythmic thud of the ball against the court echoed in Tatum's ears, a constant reminder of her own internal struggle. She watched as Patrick moved with the precision of a seasoned professional, his movements fluid and calculated. It was clear that he didn't need her guidance – he was more than capable of navigating the match on his own.

It didn't take long before Patrick scored one final point, winning the entire match. No surprise there.

But when Patrick looks up at her with that winning smile, she can tell that she wouldn't regret this decision later on.

And frankly, she and Patrick would be an unstoppable duo.

"I MEAN, SERIOUSLY," Patrick shoves another bite of pizza in his mouth, sitting on the carpeted floor of her hotel suite. "Miles Leclarc did not stand a chance against me."

Patrick was always cocky — it was just in his nature. But if Leclarc was the one to win today, Tatum would never hear the end about all the referee's supposed foul plays.

Tatum rolled her eyes playfully at Patrick's boast, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of her lips. "not everyone can be the Patrcik Zweig." she teased, playful sarcasm clear in her tone as she reached over his lap and into the pizza box for a slice of her own.

Patrick chuckled, crumbs of pizza tumbling from his lips as he nodded in agreement. "Well, obviously," he said between mouthfuls, his confidence unwavering. "But it'd be nice to have a challenge at least once."

Tatum couldn't help but miss Patrick's unshaken confidence. He was so effortless in his matches, even without any proper attire. He'd been failing to get his name on the map for years now yet still, he was still cocky as ever. 

"Yeah, okay." Tatum rolled her eyes, biting into the pizza slice. 

The two of them shared a grin and it said something words never could. But it was a silent thank you. From the both of them.