After the last group of kids finished their cool-down stretches and high-fived their way off the court, I let out a breath and rolled my shoulders.
I grabbed my towel and water bottle, muttered a quick thank you to one of the assistant coaches, and made my way to the players' quarters. By the time I changed into fresh clothes, I finally felt like myself again.
I stood in the glass foyer, the warmth of the day beginning to soften into something gentler, my gaze drifting down toward the courts below.
A sudden memory tugged at me. Years ago, during my first summer visit to the academy, I’d found a massive tree just off the corner of that court. I used to sneak off during breaks and sit under it, sometimes just to lie back in the shade and breathe, and it had become my little refuge. My quiet place.
Compelled by the pull of it, I made my way down the familiar path. The tree was still there, tall and steadfast, branches stretched wide like open arms. But I wasn’t the only one seeking a moment of peace.
There, swaying gently in a canvas hammock strung between two of its thicker branches, was Alex.
She didn’t see me at first. Her legs were curled beneath her, one arm tucked under her head, the other holding a well-worn copy of Percy Jackson. I paused, just watching her for a beat, the way her brow was slightly furrowed in concentration, the sunlight catching in the strands of her hair. She looked... relaxed.
“Didn’t peg you for a demigod girlie,” I called out, unable to resist.
Her head jerked up, startled, then she narrowed her eyes when she saw me. “I didn’t peg you for someone who stalks hammocks.”
I walked closer, grinning. “This used to be my tree. You’re technically trespassing.”
She flipped a page with a lazy flick. “Didn’t see your name on it.”
“Must’ve faded with time. I was here first, though. Years ago.”
Alex looked up at the branches with exaggerated thoughtfulness. “Hmm. And yet here I am, still the one in the hammock.”
I laughed softly. “So the mighty mysterious queen conquers backyards now?”
“Maybe I just needed a spot with a better view.”
“Better view, huh? Guess I can’t argue with that.”
She let out a soft laugh and nudged the hammock to sway a little more.
“Well, you can stay. But only if you don’t make me give up my spot.” She offered.
“Deal,” I said, settling down on the grass beneath the tree. “But if I fall asleep, don’t blame me.”
She tilted her head. “I’ll hold you accountable if you snore.”
I leaned back on my elbows, letting the breeze drift over my face. “You know, back in the day, this was my spot,” I said, glancing up at the wide branches above us
“Is that so?”
“Mm-hm. Back when I was one of the juniors. I used to hide out here between sessions, pretend I was reading when really I was just knackered.”
“Let me guess. Dog-eared copy of Pride and Prejudice and a granola bar?”
I rolled my eyes. “Close. It was Little Women, actually. And I was usually trying not to cry from soreness.”
She chuckled, flipping her book closed and resting it on her chest. “This might sound insane, but... You helped me once. Right here.”
“Helped you?”
“Yeah. Ages ago. I’d climbed too high up into this tree, trying to just find something to do, and then I couldn’t get down. I was stuck. And you came by, didn’t make fun of me, just helped me figure out how to climb down, step by step. Told me to breathe.”
I frowned, tilting my head. “Wait... that was you?”
Alex nodded slowly, lips curving up.
