"I'm telling you Brett, she's perfect."

"Perfect? Is there such a thing?"

"Well, put it this way, she's perfect for me. She even knows what I'm going through, with the divorce."

"Really?" Brett stopped walking and looked genuinely surprised. "How?"

"Her parents went through it about 2 years ago."

"They did, did they?" Brett didn't sound convinced.

"I know what you're thinking, Brett but—"

"NO!" Brett stopped me with a hand to my chest. "Trust me, you have NO idea what I'm thinking right now. None. Nada."

"What does that mean?"

"Yo!" I felt a sudden and very hard slap on the back. It was Chase, and Tyler wasn't far behind. They always travelled together.

"You feeling ready for tomorrow?" Chase asked with a fat smile. It didn't take a psychologist to know that it was fake.

I returned the smile. Equally fake. "Totally. You guys?" It felt like we were doing some stupid male posturing thing, and judging by the look that washed over Brett's face, he thought so too. Let the pissing contest begin.

"How's that second serve of yours, hey?" Tyler asked in a mocking tone. Right now, with the scout coming, it was all about exploiting each other's weaknesses, and that was mine, and Tyler knew it.

"You'll just have to wait and see, won't you!" I grinned back. Behind my smile, I was thinking, ′I'm going to wipe the fucking court with you both'. They were probably thinking the same thing.

Chase turned his attention to Brett now. "You should come knock some balls around with us some time, buddy...." And then he did the unthinkable. He patted Brett's stomach just before he turned and swaggered off down the corridor.

I turned to Brett. "Sorry about that. They are such assholes." Brett just shrugged like he always did. I don't know how he could. No one should be okay with stuff like that.

"No worries," he reassured me. "Just fuck them both up tomorrow for me and win that trophy."

"I will," I said staring after them wondering why on earth I was even "friends" with them.

**

It was our last practice that afternoon and I stood at the baseline with a basket of balls hitting serve, after serve, after serve. I needed to get my second serve down. To be honest, though, I barely had to use it because, when my first serve went in, it was deadly. I've seen it push players so far off the baseline that they basically ran into the fence. And then I stopped serving all together and started down at the ball in my hand. I had trained so hard for this, for so many years. I had been building up to this moment my whole life and all because... I felt a tightness in my chest. The whole reason I'd started paying tennis was to spend more time with my dad growing up. He used to go to the tennis club every Saturday, and I'd always wanted to be with him. So I'd started playing tennis. I hadn't started because I enjoyed it, on the contrary, I'd actually hated it when I'd started, but I had been good at it. Surprisingly good. "It's in our genes," my dad had said.

Suddenly, that statement made me feel sick, I didn't want to be anything like my dad. I dropped my racket on the ground and walked off the court and went straight for my bag.

To: [email protected]

Message: So since you're at the same school as me, I guess you know there is a really important tennis tournament tomorrow. I was wondering if you would come and watch? I'd feel so much better if I knew you were there. I need a lucky charm.

X

I stood looking at my phone, waiting for that beep, but minutes passed and it didn't come. I hoped she wasn't ignoring me? I wondered how many times I'd passed her in the corridor over the last week. There was something quite cool about that thought. She knew who I was. I wondered if she'd watched me today.

Still no message, so I slipped the phone back into my shorts and picked my bag up. I didn't feel like practising my serve anymore, honestly my heart wasn't really in this and suddenly this tournament which was meant to be so important to me, didn't feel that important anymore. As I walked out the gate my phone beeped and I almost dropped it by pulling it out so quickly.

DAD: Hey son. Just wanted to say that I'll see you at your match tomorrow. I know you're going to be great. Maybe after, we can go out for dinner? I would really like to chat with you. Love Dad

I wanted to get sick. This was the first time he'd spoken to me since he'd suddenly decided to move out. Move out? I mean, aren't you supposed to know when one of your parents is moving out? Fuck him! I didn't want him there and I wasn't going to have dinner with him, either. He didn't even deserve a reply.

I shoved the phone back into my pocket. But when it beeped seconds later, I ripped it out ready to let loose and let him know exactly how I felt, but....

From: [email protected]

Message: Of course I'll be there.

Thoughts of my father faded away instantly.

To: [email protected]

Message: So if I win, do I get a prize?

From: [email protected]

Message: What kind of prize were you hoping for?

To: [email protected]

Message: How about I take you out to dinner afterwards.

There was silence and I waited for a message, but it didn't come.

"Hey." Sadie's voice broke my concentration and I turned around. "Thought I would find you here. How's the second serve coming?"

"Good. Better." I hadn't even told her that I was going to be practicing my second serve, and yet, she just knew. I smiled at her. "Thanks for asking."

She looked confused for a second or two. "I always ask you stuff like that."

"I know. You always know exactly what I'm doing, sometimes even before I do."

"Telepathy." She smiled and shrugged at me and then grew silent. She was looking at me strangely again... "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"No, nothing...just last night, you seemed...upset."

"No, I'm fine... Actually, I'm great."

Sadie looked off to the side, and then clapped her hands awkwardly. "Well, great!...Good...So...You ready to whip everyone's asses?"

She was acting weird, but I was feeling too good to worry about it. "Yup! I hope you're gonna have a front row seat?"

"Actually," she said looking behind her. "I'm not coming to watch you tomorrow."

"What?" My stomach dropped a bit. "Why wouldn't you come?"

"You don't need me there."

"Sure I do."

"What about your minty fresh lover?"

"Actually, now that you mention it. She said she's coming."

"See?" Sadie said giving me a punch in the arm. 

"Yeah, but it's not the same if you're not there. Besides, don't you want to meet her? You've been looking for her too?"

Sadie bit her lip and looked down at her feet. Then she gave me a big smile. "I don't need, Connor. I already know exactly what's going to happen...." She cleared her throat and struck a kind of pose, an awkward one.

"Connor Matthews is going to come out and play the best fucking game of tennis that the world, and the scout has ever seen before. He's going to whip everyone's asses, and then he's going to be offered an amazing scholarship to a top university and beat everyone there as well, and then he's going to go on and become a world famous tennis player and go down in the history books when he wins Wimbledon a hundred times in a row! The end."

Sadie ended her little speech with a small bow. Her hair flopped forward and when she stood back up, all of it came tumbling back into her face. She blew a wayward strand back up, but it just fell down again. She tucked the strand behind her ear and but it was too short to stay there, so it just popped back out.

I smiled, and without thinking, I took a headband out of my tennis bag, slipped it over her head and then pulled it back up, sweeping all the hair back. Her hair was really soft. I grazed her ear as I brought the band back over. It was soft too. I adjusted the band and then took a step back to admire my work, but before I could look up, I was drawn to Sadie's eyes.

They were wide, unblinking and she was staring straight at me with what looked like shock. I felt a tightness in my chest. A kind of uncomfortable tugging sensation. This was the feeling I'd had when she'd fallen into my chest the week before. I looked at her. I mean, really looked at her. She looked so ridiculously, adorkable. That was the only way to describe her. She was wearing a stupid shirt with the leaning tower of Pisa on it, a sloppy pair of jeans and her signature old sneakers, laces untied and brown from the dirt, all of it crowned by my bright orange headband.

I swallowed. My throat also felt tight. What the hell was going on? Our eyes were still locked and the silence between us was becoming more and more uncomfortable by the second. I wanted to break it, to look away, but I couldn't. My eyes were glued to hers. And hers to mine. I shivered, as if a ghost had just walked through me. My eyes started to hurt from not blinking, but something told me not to blink—The second you do, this moment will be over.

What moment?

"Hey!" A voice broke the silence and we both swung around as if we'd just received the fright of our lives.

Jarrod. Fucking Jarrod was standing there, and worst of all, he was holding Sadie's bag—Why the fuck is he carrying Sadie's bag?

"You ready to go?" Jarrod asked Sadie without even looking in my direction. He said it as if there'd been a whole discussion leading up to this moment that I had not been privy to. Plans had been made. Shit had been spoken about, and not with me.

"Where are you going?" I asked Sadie. I could tell my tone was bordering on accusatory, but I couldn't help it.

"Um...." Her face fell. It clouded over with a strange look and she quickly averted her eyes. "McKenzie is driving today...so, Jarrod offered to give me a lift home cos I knew you were..." She trailed off and looked from me to Jarrod. My eyes followed hers and rested on Jarrod's face."...busy. I knew you were busy."

I hated his face. He had a smug look about him, and I had a sudden desire to use his head for serving practice.

Sadie shot me a quick look that interrupted my train of thought.

"I better go," she said before she turned and followed Jarrod off the court. "Bye." And she was off.

Jarrod shot me a warning look of sorts before slinging Sadie's bag over his shoulder in a very possessive manner and turning away from me. I just stood there, staring after them as she walked away. Walked away with Jarrod and away from me. I put my hand on my stomach as it churned with painful knots. I wanted to run after her and grab her by the arm and stop her from going and, and, and....

Just before they disappeared around the corner, Sadie gave a quick glance over her shoulder at me. For a split second our eyes met again and then she disappeared.

I felt so alone. It was like a little part of me had just been taken away.