He clapped his hands suddenly, as he’d just had an idea. “Alright then, what do you say we ride? Dust off those wheels of yours, get out of the house a bit.”
“Seriously?”
“Come on before you come up with an excuse” he said, already heading toward the hall.
•••••
After we rolled back into the driveway, we cleaned our bikes and set them back in the garage. I headed straight for the shower, letting the hot water rinse away the salt and grit until I finally felt human again.
Glancing at the clock, I realized time was slipping. I grabbed my tennis bag and slung it over my shoulder. It was already past noon, which meant I had just enough time to drive to the academy before Coach Kit started grilling me about punctuality. The court session was set for one sharp, and being late was simply not an option.
I pulled through the academy gates and parked in my usual spot, switching off the engine with a sigh. Grabbing my water bottle and gears, I stepped out into the early afternoon.
I headed toward my quarters, but movement by Court 3 caught my eye.
Olivia was there in the middle of the kids, gently tossing them easy feeds, smiling when one managed a clean forehand, and showing another how to adjust their grip. Her voice carried, patient and encouraging, and the kids clung to every word like it was gospel. She laughed at one of their jokes, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder, and the sunlight lit up her face in a way that almost made me forget how to breathe.
I just stood there for a second, half hidden by the bleachers, watching. Like an idiot.
She looked genuinely and effortlessly happy in a way that wrapped around my ribs and squeezed, leaving me dizzy.
I shook my head, trying to clear the fuzziness behind my eyes. Get a grip, Cadiz.
I forced myself to turn away. Coach Kit was waiting, and there was work to do. I had to prove to everyone that I could rise, that I belonged here.
I walked into our team quarters. Coach Kit was already there, lacing up his shoes and muttering at his tablet. He looked up when he heard me.
“Good,” he said, eyeing me from head to toe. “You’re early. Let’s keep that habit.”
I dropped my bag on the bench and pulled off my hoodie. “Told you I’d be ready.”
He nodded and tapped something on his screen. “Perfect. Courts are open. But before we start... You might want to take a detour.”
I raised an eyebrow.
He tilted his head toward the court where Olivia and the kids are. “Thought maybe you’d want to join them, loosen up a bit before we get serious.”
I tried to play it cool. “Oh. Is that part of training now?”
He smirked. “Let’s call it an optional warm-up. You’ve got thirty minutes before we officially start. Use it however you want.”
As we neared Court 3, she was tossing balls gently to one of the younger girls, offering small corrections with every swing.
“She’s got a good presence,” Coach Kit said, not looking at me.
When Olivia turned and spotted us, her smile didn’t fade. She gave me the smallest nod, just enough to say I see you. My heart knocked once, loud in my chest.
“Go on,” Kit said, clapping me on the shoulder. “You’ve got a few minutes.”
I walked toward the court, the grip of my racquet suddenly slicker than I remembered. Olivia stepped back to let the kid finish their swing, then turned to me as I approached.
“Hey,” she said, casual but warm. “Didn’t think I’d get a hitting partner today.”
I shrugged, trying to match her tone. “Coach says I’ve got thirty minutes. Figured I’d spend them wisely.”
She tossed me a spare ball from the hopper. “Let’s see if you still remember how to use a racquet.”
I caught it with one hand, trying not to grin. “I guess we’re about to find out.”
