My first serve went up, and I felt the familiar snap of strings as the ball sailed over the net. Alex returned with a sharp cross-court shot, but it sailed just wide. My chest tightened; she was off too. Another rally started, both of us swinging, missing, overhitting. Unforced errors piled up on both sides, the baseline becoming a tense battlefield of nerves and hesitation.
Why am I so... distracted? I chastised myself internally. Every glance at her, every subtle movement, seemed to pull my focus in two directions at once. And judging by her own misfires, I could see she wasn’t entirely in her head either.
The crowd murmured and cheered with each point, but I barely noticed them. All I could see was the player across from me, the familiar yet impossible-to-ignore presence that made every shot feel heavier, every swing a little more deliberate.
I caught Coach Dani’s eye at the changeover. Her nod was firm, her fingers tapping her temple. Focus. Adjust. Stay present. That tiny gesture was all it took to snap me out of the haze.
I exhaled slowly, tightened my grip, and started making deliberate adjustments, shorter swings on my backhand, stepping into my forehand more aggressively,keeping my toss higher on my serve. Slowly, the unforced errors began to drop.
Alex, on the other side, still seemed unsettled. The match started to feel less like a guessing game and more like a chessboard, each of us testing, probing, and learning with every point.
A few rallies later, I held my serve, then broke hers on a delicate drop shot that caught her just off guard. When the umpire finally called the set in my favor, 6-4, a mix of relief and adrenaline washed over me.
Alex’s expression was unreadable as we switched sides, but I could sense the fire igniting in her. The second set started with a new intensity. The crowd roared at every long rally, and I felt myself battling not just the game but my own heartbeat. Alex stole the second set 6-3, her fist pumping in quiet triumph at the net.
And just like that, we were forced into a decider. I took a deep breath, wiped the sweat from my brow, and reminded myself:One shot at a time. Don’t let anything else in your mind.
Across the net, Alex mirrored my intensity, her eyes locked on me with a mix of focus and something I couldn’t quite name.
As the set progressed, I started to adjust. By the time the scoreboard read 4-2, I felt a quiet confidence, I was reading her move better, exploiting small openings.
Then, I clinched the final game, taking the 3rd set at 6-3. The stadium erupted. I won.
My chest heaved as the umpire called it. Alex approached the net, her flushed face breaking into a satisfied grin.
When she got near, she lowered her voice to a whisper right in my ear. “You knew I was rooting for you, right?”Her breath tickled my skin, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
I couldn’t help but whisper back in her ear, my own voice barely carrying over the noise. “Maybe… just a little.”
Her grin widened into a genuine, radiant smile, and I laughed softly, heart thumping at how close she was. It was such a small interaction, but it left a warm echo lingering long after we pulled back.
Alex gave me one last grin and walked off the court, leaving me to the buzzing crowd and the on-court interview.
The applause swelled as cameras clicked, and for a brief moment, it felt like the stadium had shrunk to just me.
I walked back toward the locker room, the cheers still echoing behind me. I finished my routine and head back out.
Maddie was nearby, leaning against the bench with a cup of water, watching with that knowing glint in her eye, but it was Coach Dani who stepped forward, clipboard in hand, ready to dissect every detail.
“Good job out there, Liv,” she began, her eyes scanning the stats and replay clips on the tablet. “But let’s break it down. Your footwork was excellent, but you seemed distracted during that first set, you need to manage that pressure. That’s something to tighten up for the next round.”
Maddie gave me a subtle smile, and I felt that brief pang of distraction, but I forced it aside. Of course, it was Maddie, she always seemed to know everything.
It was two days before my match with Alex, we’d gathered for a quick debrief with the team in the players’ lounge. The atmosphere was light and Maddie was, as usual, in full storytelling mode. She was mid-way throughsome hilarious anecdote when I was laughing along, the sound blending with the soft hum of the lounge, when I glanced up and froze.
There was Alex, talking to a girl who could have walked straight off a magazine cover. Model-like, flawless, effortlessly striking. Alex caught my eye and offered a small, polite smile, but I didn’t return it. I couldn’t afford distractions; we were about to play each other, and every ounce of focus mattered.
“Is that Cassandra Dubois?” Maddie whispered, wide-eyed, leaning closer so no one else could hear.
I leaned back, stunned, the pieces of Elena’s gossip finally clicking into place. “Wait… Elena mentioned this, that’s her?”
Maddie wagged a finger at me, a teasing grin tugging at her lips. “Yes. That’s the one. You can’t help but notice her… even if you try.”
“How do you even know this?” I asked, leaning closer.
She grinned, tossing her hair back. “Girl I’m serious. I checked everything about Alexandra. Not that it’s hard to figure out who Cassandra is, every triathlon Alex’s ever competed in, Cassandra’s there. They were always on the podium together, glued like superglue.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re a manager and not secretly moonlighting as a journalist… or a paparazzi?”
