Page 93 of A Follow-Through in Faking
I take a deep breath for concentration.
I shake out my shoulders as I wait for my opponent to prepare to serve, getting in position to start this second set of the day. Confidence rolls through me, adding to my determination.
He misses his first serve, so I move closer to the baseline, anticipating his second, slower one. My return, unfortunately, isn’t great, and I hit it straight to his feet, allowing him to easily make me run to the other side of the court as he hits it back. I barely manage to get it, sliding across the clay court. It takes a lot of my strength to stand upright and run back to the middle of the baseline to prepare for him to hit the ball to me again.
But right as I try to run, I roll my ankle.
A sharp pain goes through my foot and leg, and I collapse to the ground, barely catching myself with my hands as it happens.
The crowd gasps, but there is nothing I can do but lie there and give myself over to the pain because fuck, it hurts. It hurts more than any other injury I’ve ever had in my life.
“Santiago,” I hear Papá calling out, and I try to lift my head to respond. The only thing I manage to do is tug my leg to my chest and wrap my fingers around my ankle, which is now pulsing from pain.
“Calling medical timeout,” the umpire says, the entire stadium silent as I writhe in pain. I roll my lips to keep the scream and burst of swear words from escaping me, but from the way no one utters a single word, I might as well have let it all out.
“Hey, are you okay?” Renjun asks, and I realize he made his way over to me. I open my eyes to see his genuinely concerned expression.
“No, man. I think something’s seriously wrong with my ankle.”
Chapter 39
Catalina
Iserveanace,securing myself the win of the match and a spot in the semi-finals. My heart pounds in my chest, happiness consuming every part of me. I’m in the semi-finals. I played so well, I won the match in two sets with little struggle. This feeling inside my chest, this certainty that I am going to win this tournament, makes me feel invincible.
But that feeling dissipates as soon as I see Charlie’s worried expression, their hand covering their mouth as they talk to someone over the phone.
My heart drops.
I move over to the umpire, looking up at her as I wait for her to finish speaking on the phone, too, to ask the one question I don’t want to ask because I already know whatever it is, it can’t be good. Waiting for her to finish talking to whoever she’s on the phone with is torture, but I do my best to take the time to even out my breathing.
Technically, Iknownothing for certain yet. There is no need to jump to conclusions except… I can feel it deep inside of me.
“What happened with Santiago?” I ask her as soon as she’s done speaking on the phone.
“Santiago injured himself during his match. He’s with the doctor we have here right now,” she explains, making my heart sink even further.
“Please tell the interviewer and fans I’m sorry,” is the last thing I say before grabbing my tennis bag, slinging it over my shoulder, and running out of the stadium.
The fans will understand.
The interviewer will understand.
Charlie will understand.
Getting to Santiago is my top priority.
It doesn’t matter if my body is exhausted, adrenaline is coursing through my veins. It’s pushing me further and further until I reach the room Santiago is currently lying in with an ice pack wrapped around his ankle. Relief only resides in my chest briefly because at least it’s only his ankle, but then the realization of all of the horrible things that could be wrong with his ankle set in, and worry returns tenfold.
“How bad is it?” I ask as I burst into the room. Santi’s head shoots up, his eyes flying open as he takes in the sight of me.
“Hi,cariño,” he says, throwing me a sheepish smirk.
“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend you’re not in pain. Don’t give me that smirk.” I move to his side, and he grabs hold of my hand, placing it on his cheek.
“I can’t help it. Seeing you makes me happy, even in the worst of times,” he replies, and as much as I wish it would soothe this ache in my stomach, it multiplies by the second at the sight of his elevated foot with the ice pack on it.
“What happened?” I ask, rubbing his cheek with the pad of my thumb to soothe him.
