Page 11 of Game Point
‘And if I lose?’
‘I’ll be your wingperson for life?’
‘After tonight’s performance? I don’t think so.’
‘I’ll remind you it wasn’t me who bailed on Felix.’
‘Left him high and dry too.’ I smiled, almost beginning to regret abandoning poor Felix now. At least with him, I wouldn’t be spilling my guts and making bets with relative strangers. I tried to focus on what I’d want from this stupid bet. I wasn’t going to walk away from the court, I knew that. But if I lost again at the Australian Open, it’d sure be nice to win something at least. I took a moment, looking around the bar as if I wanted anything there. My eyes caught the TV screen, a recap of today’s events, Ruari holding a trophy high above his head. Jealousy twisted in my gut, and before I could take a moment to double think it, I answered.
‘Alright, fine,’ I said, ‘If I lose, I get one of your trophies.’
‘A trophy,’ he repeated, dumbfounded.
I nodded, ‘The US Open one looks nice and shiny, and it’s made by Tiffany.’
He stared at me blankly for another beat. And thenanother, his mouth opening and closing. He pulled himself together enough to repeat me. ‘You wantmyUS Open trophy? The one from last year.’
‘If I lose, I’m going to need something to put on the goddamn shelf.’
His arms folded over his muscled frame as if he was battling with himself on whether to agree. I realized then I’d set a trap. There was no way he’d agree to this, especially a Grand Slam trophy. This way, he’d back out and I was free to do whatever I wanted and –
‘Okay. Fine.’ His words struck me cold. ‘If you lose, you can have it.’ I swallowed down my surprise; after all, now either way, I’d be a winner. ‘You have to stick it out, make it to Melbourne.’
‘Excellent. I agree.’ I stretched my hand out towards him without any hesitation. He looked at it, still considering exactly what he was agreeing to.
‘I feel like I’m paying up a lot more here.’ For the second time that night, Oliver’s hand slid into mine.
‘You did say it would be anexpensiveround of drinks.’
‘Better make it a bar tab.’
‘Too late now, you’ve already agreed.’
He tipped his glass towards me. ‘To the second-place losers.’
I couldn’t help but return the smile, his words echoing mine. ‘To the second-place losers.’
4
Oliver
Spotlight – Mutemath
It had been a while since I’d shown up to practice with a hangover, crawling in like some rookie, head pounding with a headache, but that didn’t stop Nico from torturing me as if it was his only job. I returned the ball over the net, but he caught me unprepared, hitting it clean over to the open court of the private country club he’d dragged me to.
At least he’d promised me brunch after.
‘Come on now,’ he teased, ‘It can’t be that bad.’
I pushed my sunglasses back up the bridge of my nose, the glaring sun far too bright for this time of morning. Why had I agreed to another session with him? And why did I drink so much last night? The answer to the last one was easy.
‘You’ve picked up some new tricks, old dog,’ I shouted back, watching as his smirk fell into a scowl. I swore I could hear him grumbling something about how everyone bullied him for his age.
‘Just serve already!’ He was a surly American, but there was also something different. Seeing my friend in love was something new, especially for Nico.
I did as he said, and we fell into an easy rally, hitting back and forth with little additional effort. Just when I got toocomfortable, he hit it far to the right, then back to the left, forcing me to run from side to side in a matter of a few seconds. My entire body groaned at me to stop, go home and crawl back into the pit of my hotel room. Nico rushed the net as I lobbed the ball into the air. He caught me out with an overhead, claiming the point and the first set.
‘And you’re ranked higher than me!’ he remarked. ‘I think I need to make a few calls!’
