Page 7 of Courting Trouble
Just at that moment, in the next court where some teenagers were playing, a laugh rang out. It could have been about anything at all. But it was Delilah’s last straw.
She fell out of pose, her body going slack, her shoulders beginning to shake. Tears spilt down her face as she turned and strode off the court, her racket dangling uselessly at her side.
‘Fuck this!’ she muttered.
Cassie stood frozen, caught off guard. She let Delilah walk away. After all, what could she do to help at this point?
Nine
Delilah sat motionless in the driver’s seat, her hand still curled loosely around the key in the ignition. The engine wasn’t on. She couldn’t bear noise yet.
She pressed her forehead against the steering wheel and exhaled long and slow. Then she reached blindly for her phone, found her agent’s name, and hit call.
‘Delilah?’ Ashley said. ‘You should still be in the session—’
‘I was awful,’ Delilah said flatly. ‘I didn’t hit a single ball. Not even one.’
‘It’s a first lesson—’
‘I looked ridiculous. There were children there. Literal children. Laughing at me. I can’t—’ She clenched her jaw. ‘I can’t do this, Ashley. I’m pulling out.’
There was a beat of silence on the other end. Then: ‘Delilah, no. Don’t do this. It’s one lesson. This role is yours—’
‘I’m not her,’ Delilah said. She stared out at the mostly empty car park, the flat glare of the afternoon sun bleaching everything grey. ‘I’m not graceful, I’m not athletic, and I’m not going to humiliate myself in front of a film crew while I flail around in a pleated skirt. Tell them to recast it. I’m going to call Royal Caribbean Cruises. Maybe they’ll let me be one of those people in the costumes. I can cry inside a giant duck.’
‘What?’ Ashley said after a confused pause.
The passenger door opened.
Delilah jumped so violently that she nearly dropped the phone. Cassie slid in beside her like it was the most natural thing in the world, folding her long legs into the cramped space with barely a glance at her.
‘Ashley,’ Delilah said faintly, ‘I have to call you back.’
She hung up without waiting for a reply. Cassie reached across and buckled her seatbelt, then settled back with a soft, satisfied sigh.
‘What are you doing?’ Delilah managed.
Cassie turned her head, her expression maddeningly unreadable. ‘Thought I’d catch a lift.’
Delilah stared at her. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
Cassie didn’t look away. ‘We going, then?’
Ten
Cassie had come very close to letting Delilah go. Inches from it. Millimetres.
She’d seen enough dramatic exits to know when one might actually stick. And the moment Delilah stalked off, she knew this wasn’t a tantrum. It was a breaking point. She need never have talked to Delilah again, and she couldn’t be blamed for it by the club manager or whatever board member had pressed her into this.
But she’d caught something in that look as Delilah fled. Shame.
She grabbed her jacket and jogged after her, heart pounding. This was a terrible idea. She wasn’t Delilah’s friend or her therapist.
Cassie spotted her in the car park, hunched over in the front seat of her car, crying into a phone.
It pulled at something in her. And she got in the car.
Delilah was thrown, putting it lightly. ‘Do you really want a lift?’ she asked.
