Chloe
Naked in Manhattan—Chappell Roan
Murphy vs Carter
Third Round—Grandstand
“Breathe,”I reminded myself, my grip tightening on my racket. “Just like she taught you.”
The crowd roared around me, cheering as Hawk-Eye delivered the results of the latest challenge and my last point was declared out. I’d been so sure that it was wrong, had watched it with my own eyes. But still the decision had come down against me.
My heart thumped harder as I fought the animalistic fear rearing its head.
I wasn’t losing. I had this.
One quick scan of the audience and I found my box, my people. Calvin sitting forward, as if he knew what I was going through. I imagined Inés sitting next to him, her gaze on me. I could almost feel the heat of it prickling my skin.
“Keep your head,”she would say to me, and through that haze, her words cut like a knife, and it was enough to bring me back to reality, back to the service line. And I tried again.
It was Jasmine’s serve, but I delivered a blistering backhand, theball cutting through the air as I channeled the power of my frustration into my swing. She lunged but missed. I clenched my fist, pumping it in a restrained celebration as the score was called.
15–40
If I broke now, I’d take control, dictating the mood and pace of the match. Hardly half an hour in, and I was on top of my game. I’d never felt more prepared, focused entirely on my singular goal.
If only the weather would cooperate.
“Rain delay,” the umpire announced, just as my opponent readied herself to serve. “Players, please collect your belongings and proceed to the lounge. Play will resume when conditions are safe.”
Frustration surged at the interruption, stealing my momentum. For a moment, I glanced at the sky, as if unwilling to believe it. A heavy raindrop hit me square on the forehead.
Guess he really wasn’t lying.
As the rain started in earnest, a ball boy rushed over, holding an umbrella for me. As I slung my bag over my shoulders, I spotted Calvin in the stands, shuffling through the crowd to make a quick exit. I followed, making my way to the players’ lounge.
Behind me, I saw a shifting shadow stalking me through the tunnel.My new security.The so-called discussion with Dad had been a short one.
Inés had seemed comforted by the step-up too, but she at least understood my fears about it.
As I peered over my shoulder at Carl, the hulking man dressed smartly in a suit, I could practically hear the turning of a key in a lock. It had taken me far too long to shake off my parents’ insecurities. I couldn’t let some out-of-control fans set me back.
When the security firm had sat me down to walk through the new “protocols,” the scenarios they’d listed were insane, everything from a simple kidnapping all the way through to an acid attack. I knew he was only doing his job, but still, I couldn’t help but resent the need.
The lounge was a plush hub of activity, complete with a well-stocked canteen, large TV screens broadcasting other matches, and comfortable seating with a view of the arena. Coaches and players clustered together in animated conversations. Some looked distressed, their matches clearly not going to plan. Others strolled casually to the canteen, refueling with plates of food as if the delay were a welcome break.
As I got comfy at a table, Carl found his place at the back of the room, taking a break while we chilled out. He was on duty when we were moving from location to location, like between courts and the hotel, but inside, he could relax and take a back seat.
Inés walked in, her confident smile lighting up the room.
“You look happy. Must be going your way,” I said as she slid a chair out from under the table and dropped into it beside me. “You’re playing Scottie, right?” I asked. She’d felt off this morning when she left for her match, her confidence dulled, almost as if playing her friend had her second-guessing herself.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice dipping slightly. “I was worried about it before, but the match is going well. I don’t know if she’s in a weird headspace or if I’m actually doing something right.”
I smiled, unable to hold back the compliment. “I think you’re amazing.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze caught mine, the warmth in her eyes glowing brighter. “How’s it going for you?”
“I’m smashing it,” I teased, earning a hesitant laugh from her. “Mind the pun.”
