Page 11 of Ace My Heart

“Mel, you’re acting like a spoilt, slutty little brat,” he grated at me, not bothering to keep his voice down. People were staring.

I gaped at him. What did he expect me to say to that? I closed my mouth with an effort and stormed off in the direction of the change room.

I rounded on him as he appeared behind me in the room.

“Stop treating me like I’ve already lost the game!” I shouted. He looked at me sadly.

“Well, it’s a foregone conclusion if you can’t get rid of this attitude and calm yourself down.”

Steve turned away from me, mumbling into his mobile.

“Are we going to go and hit some balls?” I asked when he hung up.

“You are. I’m not. I don’t think I’m the right person for you to be around right now. Joel will meet you at court nineteen in ten minutes. Be back here at two.”

I silently grabbed my racquet bag and left.

God, what’s wrong with me?I beseeched as I strode towards the practice courts. I could have gotten into one of the little buggies thattrawled the length of the Park, but the nervous, angry energy zinging through me demanded that I walk.Why am I feeling like this?

No answer.

Last night I’d scratched an itch. But it was like a mozzie bite: instead of feeling relief, it had become more inflamed and irritated.

By the time I entered court nineteen, Joel was already there, wearing cotton exercise shorts, a singlet, joggers, and a cap covering his dark hair.

“You dobbed me in!” I accused. Joel nodded curtly.

“I freely admit it. I was hoping I’d be able to talk you out of it, but failing that … he deserves to know. This is his career too, and if you fuck up, it means he’s fucked up.”

That stopped me in my tracks. I’d never thought of it in those terms before. Joel was right; Steve only ever had my best interests at heart.

“Jeez, could you make me feel any worse about it?” I muttered. Joel shrugged, a wry expression on his face.

“Let’s hit some balls.” Joel hit one in my direction. I returned it – not hard, just enough to feel the muscles in my shoulders and back working.

Within minutes I could feel the angst leaving my body as I concentrated on returning the ball to Joel. He didn’t push me hard, but he didn’t slack off either. He warmed me up and he calmed me down. It was just what I needed.

Eventually he deflected one of my balls, signalling that I was warm enough now. I walked towards the net.

“Feeling a bit better now, Stinky?” he asked. I glared at him until he dropped his eyes from mine.

“Sorry. Mel.”

My lips twitched into a faint smile. “Yes thanks, Joel.”

“Listen, don’t let fighting with Dad get to you, okay? Just focus on playing the game to the best of your ability. And don’t let what happened last night affect your mojo either.”

We walked off court, Joel stopping me at the gate. “I’m heading back to the apartment to shower and change now. Go eat, stretch,practise some mindfulness if you can. I’ll be in the crowd. Good luck.”

I squeezed his arm. “Thanks again, Joel. You know, you’re not such a dickhead when you’re really trying.”

“I know, but it’s just too much effort to try that hardallthe time,” he replied with a grin as he walked off. I headed back, making a quick detour via the player’s lounge for some takeaway meals. I returned to the main arena and my change-room feeling much more serene.

Steve was sitting with his head in his hands. I walked in and sat down beside him, handing him one of the containers and opening the other.

“It’s okay, Steve. I’m feeling fine now. I’m calm.”

He looked up at me and his eyes seemed empty. “Just try your best, Mel. That’s all I’ve ever asked of you.”

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