Page 6 of Broken Play
"He's a real winner," I mumble. "All right, let's go." I probably acted the same way when I was his age. In fact, I know I did. Now, I'll definitely be worrying about her.
The skating rink is a tattered and rusted steel building near an old strip mall. I should heed JD's advice and not skate, but for a couple more weeks, I don't have to listen to a word he says.
A sign hanging behind the desk says, "You must sign a waiver to skate. We are not responsible for injuries."
Great.
My siblings and Brooks have one on file, but I go through the boxes, checking them. If I get hurt, JD may kill me. There are twenty or so people here, some skating easily. The instructor waves us onto the ice.
It's cold in here compared to the heat wave outside. The winter clothes I had in Denver would have come in handy, or Sutton's warm body draped over me would have. Fuck, I can't get her out of my head.
FOUR
SUTTON
"Coach, I can't do it," Paulina yells, throwing her racket across the court and snapping me from my thoughts. I know what it feels like to be away from your mom and on your own at the ripe old age of nine.
"You can do it," I encourage. "Angle your racket so the ball spins."
She throws a hissy fit, and I'm not sure whether to comfort her or be a hard-ass. I go for option one and take her in my arms, stroking her long ponytail. When her sobs dry up, we walk to the net, and I ask one of the college students to hit us some balls so I can teach her the motion of a slice backhand.
Holding Paulina's racket with her, the college student hits it easily to us, and we go through the motions of slicing so she can get the feel. After about twenty hits, I let go, allowing her to try by herself.
"I did it!" she cheers.
"Perfect, Paulina. Let's hit fifty more and then go get someice cream."
"Really?" Her eyes open as wide as saucers, knowing sugary foods are against the rules at this tennis academy in Austin.
I bend down so we're eye level. "It'll be our little secret."
After hitting more balls, she goes to her dorm to shower while I do the same. I live on the property in a small two-bedroom house. We drive about a mile down the road to Boots & Scoops Ice Cream Parlor. The employees all wear cowboy hats and boots. Paulina can't contain her excitement. "Whoa," she says, admiring the person in line before us. "Can I have one of those?"
"We'll share it. We're already breaking the rules."
Paulina orders a waffle cone bowl shaped like a boot, adding pecan praline ice cream along with a caramel drizzle. My coach never did this for me, and I wonder if I would have been more well-balanced if he had, as I watch Paulina shovel the sweet cream onto her spoon and into her mouth.
Gabby, her roommate, is waiting with an ear-splitting grin when we get back to their dorm. "He texted me. Look what he said." Paulina jumps up and down, grabbing Gabby's phone.
"Okay, girls," I say. "Lights out at ten. Is it a boy from here?"
They give me an aggressive nod, and I know exactly who it is: Trevor. All the girls fawn over him. His sun-streaked hair glistens, and he's been blessed with a golden tan and teeth that probably won't need braces. Trevor is eleven and is expected to be on the junior circuit next year.
Shutting the door behind me, I hear giggles bouncing off the walls. Oh, to be a preteen again.
I can't help but reflect on how drastically my life has changed since my hamstring injury as I open my favoritebottle of Bordeaux. Taking the job here at ACE has two major pluses. One, I love kids. There's something rewarding about helping others achieve their dreams. And two, for the first time since I was a young girl, I live close to my dad.
For years, it was Mom and me against the world, but I remember her saying, "Now that I'm out of money from the divorce, your sponsorships will need to pay for me to live near the tennis academy." When that wasn't enough, she remarried three more times and died during a grand hiking adventure in Switzerland.
Some days, the ache settles deep in my chest, and nothing really shakes it loose. I really am happy about my new job—it gives me purpose, and I feel proud of what I'm doing. But even with that, there's this emptiness I can't quite fill. It's like something important is missing from my life, and no matter how much I try to ignore it, the feeling lingers just out of reach.
My phone rings, and Anna's name shows on the screen. "Hey. How did you know I needed to hear your voice?"
"Because Bodhi thanked his new girlfriend after winning the San Diego tournament." She pauses. "Bethany Glines. He's dating that bitch, and she's a baby, only nineteen. He had you, and he thinks she's a replacement for you—she's a two and you're a ten." Anna defends my honor, and her Russian accent becomes thicker when she's angry.
"I don't care. She can have him. Once she finds out what he's capable of, she'll run in the opposite direction, too." Too bad my heart still aches as I try to convince myself that I'm over Bodhi Creed. I keep obsessing about my Denver man to keep thoughts of Bodhi far away.
"I just found out he'll be running a camp at ACE this year. I don't know how he can fit it into his schedule."
