Chloe served again, this time landing it cleanly, but her opponent was ready. The rally was short and brutal, ending with a crosscourt winner that Chloe couldn’t even lunge for. The crowd gasped, a murmur of disappointment spreading like wildfire.
The game continued like this, and it felt torturous to watch from the stands.
I looked down at the bracelet, still clenched in my hands, my fingers running over the beads. She had to pull herself together. I’d seen her spiral weeks ago, at the final at Wimbledon. But this was different; she was thrown by superstition rather than her short fuse.
Chloe didn’t even glance at us as she stalked to her chair, her movements rigid, her racket dangling in her hand like she was debating smashing it against the ground. She sat down heavily, yanked a towel over her head and disappeared from view.
“This,” Calvin said with a heavy sigh, his gaze fixed on his sister, “is exactly what I need your help with. When she reacts like this, she completely loses her head on court.”
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat almost painful. “I know.”
He shook his head as Chloe stood again, shoulders slumped like she was carrying the weight of the match on her back. “She wins plenty, but the second something doesn’t go her way? It’s like a switch flips. Game over.”
The match continued, and for a moment, it looked like Chloe had steadied herself. She made a few solid returns, forcing her opponent back to the baseline and trying to dictate the pace. But it was fleeting; her control slipped, and she lost another point.
Calvin exhaled sharply, running a hand over his jaw. “I don’t know what’s setting her off this time. Did I say something during warm-up?” His voice tinged with frustration.
“Calvin...” I hesitated, guilt pressing down on me.
“Was it the locker room?” he continued, his brow furrowed. “Did someone say something to her?”
“It’s my fault,” I blurted, my voice barely above a whisper in the hushed crowd.
Calvin turned sharply, his anger immediate and clear. “What did you do?”
“I—” The words tangled in my throat. I opened my hand, showing him the bracelet cradled in my palm. “I didn’t show up.”
His jaw clenched as he looked away, muttering under his breath about superstition. On court, Chloe managed to win a point, but her expression barely flickered, the fire in her eyes dimmed as the scoreboard worked against her.
Calvin leaned closer, his voice low but cutting. “I don’t know how you’re going to fix this, but youwill. I’ve seen you two together.”
My stomach knotted.He’s seen us?
“In the Hamptons,” he added, his tone shifting to something more pointed. “You got her to settle down, to reset. She listens to you in ways she never does with me.”
“Why?” I asked cautiously.
He shook his head, frustration evident. “I’m her older brother. Sometimes it’s not enough for me to tell her. I’ve tried for years to stop these spirals, and it’s never worked. That’s why we made the arrangement with you.”
“Understood,” I replied without hesitation.
“You are team Chloe. Day and night. Start acting like it, or the deal is off.”
His words hit like a blow. I nodded, the weight of his expectation pressing down on me. Calvin turned back to the court, but the message lingered.
This was my mess. I’d caused this. On court, this would’ve been fair game. But today, here, I’d messed up, and it was up to me to fix it.
I owed her that much.
27
Inés
Strangers—Halsey (feat. Lauren Jauregui)
Murphy vs Nagy
Semi-final—Stadium Court
