Itry to calm down before we go to the airport. I just want to be alone to gather my thoughts. I have so many missed calls from my father and brother, but I just can’t face having to tell them I failed. Not yet.
We didn’t win the tournament and I didn’t get signed by Richard Kingsley. Or anyone. But Ben was given an offer, and he turned it down. Because he doesn’t just have a perfect plan A, but a plan B, C and D probably, too.
I pack my things and get out of the hotel room before Nate can come back and tell me how much of an asshole—or a douchebag or whatever he wants to call me—I am.
I find a quiet place to sit in the lobby while waiting for the airport bus, hoping I don’t bump into any of my teammates until I absolutely have to.
I see Coach Sanchez walking towards me as my phone starts to ring again.
Noah’s name flashes up on the screen and I decide it’s better to talk to my brother than hear whatever platitude or criticism my coach may have for me right now.
“Hey! How did the tournament go? Did you kick those Stanford guys’ asses?”
“No, we lost.”
“Oh, sorry.”
I hear a female voice in the background and I scramble to change the subject. “Is Mercy there?”
“Yeah, she says hi. She’s just brought over a bunch of cake to try for the wedding, so she’s buzzed on a sugar high.”
I hear the sound of lips smacking and imagine her kissing his cheek. Either that or she’s chowing down on wedding cake.
Coach Sanchez has taken the hint that I’m busy and is currently talking to someone behind the reception desk. Probably checking where the bus is.
“I can call you back later if you’re busy,” I say.
“Hey, I called you, I want to talk to you.”
He whispers something to Mercy and it sounds like she leaves the room.
“You don’t have to send her away.”
He ignores me. “Eli, what’s wrong? Talk to me. You’re really disappointed about this loss?”
“I told Papa that Richard Kingsley came to watch my match, and now I have to tell him he wasn’t interested in me. He was interested in my teammate.”
“Ah, Eli, I’m so sorry. But there’ll be other coaches. I heard Kingsley can be a bit of a dick anyway. Maybe it was divine intervention?”
I roll my eyes. Ever since he met Mercy, my brother is suddenly into the mysterious ways of the universe—fate and destiny and all that crap.
“It’s not just that.”
“What?”
I think about Ben’s face in that corridor when I told himto leave me alone. When I basically blamed him for fucking up my chances with Richard Kingsley.
“I acted like a dick to a guy I like.”
“This wouldn’t be your doubles partner, by any chance?”
“How do you know that?”
He treats me to his trademark, annoyingly confident laugh. The one the press and supermodels like his fiancée go crazy over.
“He’s so your type, that’s why.”
“What are you talking about?”
