Just as I did back at school, I take the easy road and let Elias take control.
And he’s just as bossy as I feared he might be. He has me running all over the court. At one point, he ‘accidentally’ hits me on the back of the calf with the ball. He apologizes, of course. But then adds, “You know you really shouldn’t turn your back during a point.”
Thanks, butthead.
I have to remind myself that I am captain of this team and Elias is part of it. So what if he’s … confident. A little overly authoritative? Intimidatingly tall and good-looking? I can handle this.
By the time we get back to the locker room, I feel a bit better. As I’m untying my shoes, Nate asks me if I’m alright.
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
He shrugs. “The new guy seems a bit … intense.”
I frown. If Nate isn’t sure about Elias, this means the rest of the team are going to be wary around him, too. I may be the captain, but Nate is the trend setter—the one everyone really listens to. Plus, most of the team are in the fraternity, and Nate’s the president. They’re so used to Priestley being president and captain, they often defer to Nate in both areas.
“He’s new here,” I remind Nate. “We should make an effort to make him feel welcome. Imagine how scary being in a new country all alone must be?”
“You’re right.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. I try not to react to his touch. “You’re so much nicer than me.”
Nice, urgh.
3
ELIAS
Just as I suspected from that smiling picture on the college website, Benjamin ‘just Ben’ Harris is a total pushover. It was obvious he didn’t want to practice with me, but he did it anyway—albeit with a strained smile on his face.
It’s difficult to tell in one practice session how good he really is. His technique in every major area is solid, though you can’t really see a player’s limits until they are pushed in a competitive match.
I plan to go straight back to my dorm and try to find video footage of Ben playing so I really know what I’m up against. Perhaps spend the night making notes. A solid gameplan. I have a very short period of time here to get noticed. Can’t have my own teammates overshadowing me.
I hear my teammates talking about some party and try to tune them out. I am definitely not here for parties. The only part of college life I intend to enthusiastically take part in is the athletic part. The academic part is unavoidable, as is sharing a dorm with messy guys a few years younger thanmyself. But the party thing—that I can avoid. Not that they would invite me anyway.
Ben certainly didn’t seem to like me very much.
So I’m completely caught off guard when Ben turns and asks me what I’m doing tonight.Strange.Unless this is a cruel joke, I think he’s going to invite me to the party.
Unable to find a good answer, I say, “Nothing.”
“Why don’t you come to the party at Zeta Tau?”
“What is a Zeta Tau?”
Someone snickers at my ignorance. Nate flashes them a look that could curdle milk. I don’t care. It sounds stupid anyway—whatever it is.
Ben’s still standing in front of me with a big, friendly smile on his face. “It’s a sorority. They’re having a mixer tonight. You should come. It’ll be a good way to get to know people.”
I open my mouth to say, ‘No thanks,’ but something about the way he worded it causes me to rethink.
Didn’t I want to get to know more about my competition? Maybe I could even discover some weaknesses. If I listen in on their drunken conversations, I may learn one or two Achilles’ heels.
“Sure,” I say. “I’ll come.”
Is that disappointment I see on Ben’s face? Was he only asking to be polite and hoping I’d say no? Perhaps getting in his head could be fun. A little healthy competition never hurt anyone.
I have justenough time before the party to discover that no video evidence of Ben Harris playing tennis exists on the internet.No YouTube videos of him playing championships against Harvard or whoever. No college prospect interviews with local news stations. Ben Harris is an enigma. I did find some videos of a guy called Priestley Rosenthal wiping the floor with a Penn State player. He played with the sort of calculated intensity you see in pro players. I couldn’t find Rosenthal on any ATP or Challenger sites, so I’m guessing he went into the stock market or something. Whatever. I’m just glad he isn’t my competition. That guy had ruthlessness written all over him.
Nice Guy Ben, on the other hand, should be easy to overshadow.
