Page 58 of Friends with Benefits

He turns toward Evelyn to comment on this, but before he says a word, she mutters, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Juniper and Violet have also been assigned to their court. At the net,Juniperapologizes toEvelyn. Violet wins the coin toss. Chooses first serve and the shady side of the court. Then yells “Kick rocks!” as she sends the ball toward Evelyn, who returns it in earnest and Theo sees her mouth form a perfect O when it lands in bounds, initiating a volley that she returns once, twice, three times… until Juniper faults, the ball landing in the net.

Evelyn drops her paddle and throws her arms around him. “Holy shit!We scored.”

Theo laughs. “We did not.”

In pickleball, only the serving team can score.

“Then I shall rephrase. They didn’t score!”

I could kiss her.

He thinks it, again, the moment their eyes meet. Justifies it. Everyone is watching. Is this not a situation to rebrand from the teacher his colleagues still see as their student? Be the image of a doting husband by kissing his wife? Marriage (and Louisa’s sprained ankle) got him into the pickleball tournament. Already, Ms. Connors put a meeting on his calendar Monday morning to discuss the planetarium. Being believable… could mean being takenseriously, which could lead to more invitations, more opportunities.

For the children.

Obviously.

His logic brain grasps at straws, refusing to admit that if he kisses Evelyn right now it will be for one reason and one reason only.

Because he wants to.

She lets go before he can make up his mind, skipping to her side of the court to get into position. Theo, off-kilter from the adrenaline, from the body contact, from thedesirethat’s becoming harder by the millisecond to control, botches the return when Juniper serves. Evelyn nails it. Does she run on vengeance? Theo is mystified as the game progresses and, well, they’re not great, but they are less pathetic than they were an hour ago. Twenty minutes later, the score is 9–7. Somehow, impossibly, they’re only down by two and Theo is officially delusional enough to believe that not only can they even the score—they canwin.

Evelyn serves.

Violet returns.

The ball flies toward the center line, within reach. Theo hustles, at full speed, toward it, sure that it’s his rally.

Only so is Evelyn.

They collide.

Just like last time, Theo is two beats behind.

He can’t catch her.

She goes down.

Hard.

And he’s seventeen again. They’re no longer on a pickleball court, but in a ballroom in Anaheim, at their final dance competition. Evelyn’s on the ground, unable to stand on her own. Because ofhim. Theo’s pulse pounds in his eardrums. He doesn’t remember screaming her name or running to her or dropping on his knees at her side. What brings him back to now is the crimson on asphalt. Blood. It gushes from both of her knees, where skin used to exist.Fuck.What if her ankle got reinjured? What if she needs PT again? What if she has to quit the fellowship in order to properly heal? What if he has to take her to the hospital and she catches a virus that her immunocompromised body can’t fight off and this results in a flare-up? Overpickleball? How is this happening again? Didn’t Theo learnanything?

“Ev? Are you okay? I’m so sorry.Fuck.”

Theo can’tbreathe.

He’s choking on his heart.

Then there’s a hand on his chest. Sometimes, Theo swears that the pressure of her hand is the only thing that has kept his heart inside his chest cavity for almost twenty-eight years. At ten, when stuck on a section of jazz choreography a week before the recital. At twelve, when on the verge of failingsixth-grade math. At fourteen, when his mom uttered the wordcancer. At eighteen, when he was terrified that going to New York would be a huge mistake. At twenty-two, when the cancer came back. At twenty-three, the moment he became a person without a mom.

“Hey,” Evelyn says, her voice so soft it hurts. “Theo. I didn’t land on it.Look.” She points and flexes her bad ankle, then rolls it in both directions. “I’m okay. I mean, my knees sting like a bitch. But I’m okay. Okay? Breathe.”

He covers her hand with his, and they stay like that, tethered together, until his heart calms down and his rational brain regains consciousness.She’s fine. I’m fine. We’re fine.He lets go of her hand. Runs his fingers through his hair, then bends down to scoop Evelyn into his arms and carry her to his car, conceding the game. Obviously. Theo sits her in the trunk of his hatchback Nissan Versa and cleans up her wounds with the first-aid kit in his trunk. Checks her vitals. Checkshisvitals. Memorizes his own—141/89—to record in his health log.

“I’m sorry,” Evelyn says.

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