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Darn it. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” I grit out, forcing my face into a neutral mask even though hot pain is flaring through my ankle. It hurts. A lot. But I’m a pro athlete. I’ve played through worse. I can handle this. I force a tight smile and point vaguely at a cluster of pebbles. “Thought I saw a Great White tooth. False alarm.”

I take a cautious step forward, praying the limp isn’t as obvious as it feels.

Luckily, before I have to take too many more steps, the song “Good Vibrations” cuts through the sound of the waves. Max reaches into his pocket and fishes out his phone. The second he sees the screen, his face slips into business mode. “It’s my agent. Do you mind if I take this?”

“No, go ahead. I’ll just be over there.” I breathe a sigh of relief and point toward a dry patch of sand near the dunes, grateful for an excuse to get off my feet.

“Brilliant. I won’t be long,” he promises, already swiping the screen as he paces away toward the water.

I hobble my way up the bank as quickly as I can manage, spreading my towel out with a shaky hand before sinking onto it. Gingerly, I massage the aggravated ankle that’s become the bane of my existence.

I close my eyes, and the last few days replay in my mind. The dingy motel room. The flickering lamp. The mattress that somehow manages to be both lumpy and paper-thin. The argument that echoed through the walls at two in the morning while I lay awake, staring at the deadbolt.

Why did I have to be so stubborn? All I had to do was tell Zoe the truth. She would’ve cleared off her couch before I could even finish explaining all the dumb decisions I’ve made lately, probably making a joke about charging me rent in Lina’s desserts.

Instead, I convinced myself I had to handle everything alone. I never even gave her the chance to help.

I press my lips together, staring down at the sand. I’ve already paid for the next two days in that lousy motel. But the thought of going back makes my stomach turn. I can’t bring myself to go back and do it again tonight.

I slowly reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. It’s time to cut my losses and admit I’m in over my head.

For a fleeting moment, I consider texting my parents and asking for money. I know they’d say yes, but it wouldn’t be a quick transfer and a “good luck, kiddo.” It’d trigger a full-scale intervention from halfway across the world.

Dad would want a detailed breakdown of my finances. Within an hour, he’d have a spreadsheet tracking every dollar I’ve earned, spent, or accidentally lit on fire over the last six months.

And Mom would be on the first flight over to go apartment hunting.

I love them. But I don’t need them to rescue me. Not yet.

I take a deep breath and open a new message thread.

Katie

Hey, Z . . . can I stay with you tonight?

I stare at it for a second, then delete it and try again.

Katie

Hey, Z . . . random question. Any chance your couch is free tonight?

Katie

I messed up and I’m regretting my life choices.

I hit send and watch the bubble disappear.

My stomach lurches. If Zoe—no, when Zoe finds out how much walking we’ve done today, on top of the motel incident, she’s going to skip the lecture and go straight to the execution. This definitely wasn’t on her list of approved non-tennis activities.

“Thanks, I’ll get back to you soon. Cheers,” Max says, his voice cutting through the sound of the surf. He hangs up and makes his way back to me. His face is drawn, his shoulders are tight, and he’s shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

“Hey, is everything okay?” I ask, studying the tension in his jaw. “Bad news?”

“No. It was good, actually. Ace, really,” he says, though he sounds like he’s been disinvited from his best friend’s wedding. “My agent’s managed to score me a last-minute audition for a new musical opening on the West End in late Fall.”

“Max, that’s amazing! But why do you look like you’ve just seen the Phantom drop the chandelier on the audience? Isn’t this the type of news you want to hear?”

“Yes . . . but the workshop is Monday. In London. I’d have to be on the Sunday morning flight to make it in time.”