Page 31 of A Follow-Through in Faking
This is only the first round, and I’ve been matched up with a player who doesn’t have a high ranking. He qualified to be in the Australian Open, which means he has a lot less experience.
That also means if I lose, it’ll look even worse on me.
Stop thinking like that, Santiago, I scold myself, something I have to do a lot before the match begins to keep my anxiety from sending me into a full-blown attack.
My opponent, Harry Jackson, is announced first. Then, my name is called, and I step out of the little area where we were told to wait. With my tennis bag slung over my shoulder, I wave to the crowd, the entire stadium packed with fans. They are screaming for me, and I am smiling as brightly as I can, soaking in their enthusiasm. They’ll be here cheering me on, fueling me.
I take a deep breath that finally settles some of my nerves, but what has my anxiety levels dropping all the way is seeing Catalina with sunglasses pushed up the bridge of her nose as she sits in my box. She’s scowling, looking ready to rip someone’s head off, and I can’t help but grin.
She really is my little rain cloud.
The pre-match rituals are as they always are. Flip a coin to find out who will start serving, shake hands, take some pictures, do a bunch of sportsmanship things like saying “good game,” and then warm up.
I win the coin flip, which means I get to start serving. Harry chooses a side of the court, which is fine by me. There is no side that has more sun to blind us at the moment.
The warm-up calms me even more. We’re playing on a hard court, meaning the ball bounces higher and faster than on others. It’s always a challenge to figure out how to adjust your hits to match the conditions you’re playing on, but after all my training sessions with Papá and Catalina, I feel confident.
I feel ready.
Before we start, I take one sip of water and wink at Cata. She remains in the same position, with her trained arms crossed in front of her chest, sunglasses covering her eyes, and a scowl on her lips.
She’s so divine, it hurts to look at her.
But what’s a little pain for a bit longer when my reward is looking at Catalina Sanchez as she plays my girlfriend.
Chapter 14
Catalina
WatchingSantiagoplaytennisis, for lack of a better word, a pleasure.
The way that man moves is glorious.
He’s quick on his feet, powerful in his shots, and he really is entertaining to watch. When he misses a point in a long rally, he laughs at himself. When he wins a good point, he riles up the crowd until they’re screaming his name.
For some reason, he keeps looking my way as well.
In the first set, I didn’t move. He played so well, he won it six games to two. But the second set has me on the edge of my seat.
He’s currently down four games to two, and Harry looks determined to take this one from him. Santi has been making so many unforced errors this set, I can tell he’s out of the game a little.
Which means we have to bring him back into it.
“Santiago, get your head out of your ass and back in the game,” I say in Spanish as soon as he steps under his box to wipe sweat off his brow with his towel. Carlos chuckles beside me, for the first time today, looking less stoic.
“I’m trying. I lost my rhythm,” he replies in our mother tongue, looking all shades of overwhelmed. He’s usually more confident than this, has a better handle on his emotions. I’m the one who gets nervous when I’m down a few points.
Not him.
“If it’s because I’m sitting here, making you nervous, then I’m leaving.” It better not be. We’re both professionals. Santi should be able to separate his personal life from the match.
“If you go anywhere, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to your seat,mariquita,” he says, throwing his towel back to where it was resting before, taking his racket.
“Get his service game,” I call out before he walks back to the baseline.
He needs a break, to win Harry’s service game, and he needs it desperately to get his confidence back.
I’m at the edge of my seat again, my leg bouncing up and down as I watch Santi squat, positioning himself to return Harry’s serve. He’s standing farther behind the baseline for the first serve, but when his opponent goes too wide, Santiago moves up, anticipating the second serve being slower.
