Anywhere u go—Tove Lo
The dawn light was calming, the rooftop court wrapped in a rare early-morning stillness, only broken by the sharpthwackof the ball meeting my racket strings and the quick scuff of our trainers skidding across the hard court. Now and then a grunt or gasp escaped as we pushed through the bone-deep ache in our bodies, each sound cutting through the quiet like a reminder of our fight to keep going.
We’d escaped after a restless night to the court to practice and burn off the nervous energy I could feel between us. Tomorrow’s match hung over us like an axe.
Chloe returned the ball with a swift backhand, the movement somewhat hesitant. I pulled back my arm, hitting it easily back over the net.
Things between us had been strange since the news broke. When she got back from her match she was reserved, keeping to herself. And it was hard to argue I’d been any other way.
We were going to play each other in the semi-final. And being against her again in a professional setting was something I found myself vastly unprepared for.
I’d thought about it before, wondered how we’d both handle it, but almost every time the question arose, I pushed it aside, the answer too painful to ponder.
I’d played friends before, and it was a job to keep the lines clear between the relationship on and off court. This sport was personal: there was no way around that.
It was one thing to be friends with somebody after a loss, never mind a brutal one, but an entirely different thing to walk off and climb into bed with them.
A dullthunkof a mishit sounded from Chloe’s side, a noise that was usually music to my ears, and the ball slammed into the net.
Another point to me.
“What’s wrong with you?” I snapped, the irritation bubbling over before I could stop it.
Chloe recoiled, her brows knitting together. “What do you mean?”
I jabbed a finger at the ball at my feet. “You should’ve made that shot. I’ve seen you nail it a hundred times. It’s like you gave up halfway.”
Her shoulders sagged, a weariness settling over her like a heavy coat. “I’m tired.”
But that answer wasn’t good enough. Her energy had been off since yesterday, quiet and distant in a way that unsettled me.
An old insecurity reared its ugly head, whispering poisonous thoughts I couldn’t ignore.Did she let me win the point? Was that pity?
“Are you going easy on me?” The words slipped out, sharp and accusing, and the moment they did, regret clawed at my throat. But I had to know.
Her eyes flashed, narrow and fierce. “Excuse me?”
I swallowed hard, forcing the question out again. “I asked if you’re throwing the match. Do you feel bad for me or something?”
Chloe closed her eyes, dragging a hand across her face as though she could physically rub the frustration away. “Inés, I played a long match yesterday.”
“And thenyouaskedmeto come out here and hit!” I shot back, my voice rising as I gestured to the empty court around us.
Her tone cracked, raw and almost breaking on the edge of a yell. “Because I needed to get my frustration out, okay?”
“Because you’re playing me?”
“Of course because of that!” Her voice cracked as she threw her racket to the ground with a loud clatter. Her hands flew to her face, pressing hard against her cheeks as if she could contain whatever was breaking loose. “We... fuck. I don’t want to play you in such an important match.”
The words hit me like a punch to the chest. My heart splintered at the sight of her unraveling. This wasn’t the Chloe I knew. She didn’t cry. She didn’t crumble. She raged, fought, clawed her way forward.
Her eyes shimmered with tears as she looked at me, raw and exposed in a way I’d never seen before.
Without thinking, I crossed the court and pulled her into my arms. Chloe melted into me, her head pressing against my shoulder as though it was the only place she could fall apart.
“There’s so much going on,” she sobbed, her voice muffled against me. “And I’m terrified. Scared I’m going to fuck it all up. I don’t want to ruin this.” Her fingers dug into my back, holding on like I was the only thing tethering her to solid ground.
“You won’t,” I murmured, stroking her hair, but she kept going, her words pouring out between jagged breaths.
