Page 19 of The Tomboy

While the boys won the soccer ball passing, the girls stormed back to win the other three. And I couldn’t help but notice how competitive Taylor was in each activity, encouraging her team, especially in the blindfold race where she took command and directed the girls.

I was hoping to hang out with Taylor as we took a snack break, but Mr. Dyer pulled me aside for a chat. He didn’t want to pressure me, but he reiterated how much it would mean for me to play. I’d been a mainstay of the team since freshman year, as had Phoenix. It was important that I keep it going. Phoenix would want that, he said. He made it sound like Phoenix had died. You see, all going to plan, it should have been Phoenix as the captain playing number one, with me at number two. But now, if I played, I’d have to step up to number one.

Somehow that didn’t feel right. That was Phoenix’s position, his goal, his aspiration.

“No need to make decisions now, Max,” Mr. Dyer said, “I appreciate you coming. And it’s been good for the younger players to have you here.” He patted my shoulder, leaving me to ponder—everything.

Mr. Dyer paired me in the double kayak with Sterling, a promising freshman, for the trip back. For the van ride, I tried to get a seat next to Taylor, but the girls all bustled into the back two rows. Guess the team bonding did work.

Mrs. Stephens had another game (of course, she did.) It was a memory game which started off about tennis, and we went around the van adding to it—“I was playing tennis when...I hit a forehand down the line...then a cat ran across the court...followed by a giraffe...”

The statements got crazier as we went around the van, many stumbling as they forgot the lines, but not Taylor. She got through the lob over the giraffe’s head and the elephant using its trunk to smash the ball, and was declared the winner by Mrs. Stephens. Grace and Esther were giving her high fives, and even Bianca celebrated her win.

We were late arriving back to school, so a lot of parents were waiting to pick up the younger kids. Mrs. Stephens apologized, but it had been such a good day that nobody minded. The girls huddled into a circle and did a cheer to confirm their dominance over the boys, which apparently they’d made up on the spot.

“Fifteen, thirty, forty, deuce,

The girls will win, the boys will lose!

We served an ace and won the game

Girls rock, while boys are lame!”

I conceded that it was quite clever, but it wasn’t really fair with the boys team being in disarray. If Phoenix was here, he would have guided us; his absence really was that great. The team’s hopes hinged on him, and now...well, without him—was there any point?

Jordy and I unloaded the van and carried the bags to Mrs. Stephens’ office while she gave the girls another pep talk. They were in a circle, hands in the middle. When I returned, Taylor was nowhere to be seen, which disappointed me. I would have liked to talk to her.

Instead, Bianca was loitering near my truck.

“You’re still working for your parents?” I detected a hint of condescension, because generally Covington Prep kids didn’t work. They didn’t need to, and in theory, I didn’t need to either. But working all summer had been the best thing for me. I’d had zero desire to play tennis, so Dad’s suggestion that I mow lawns and do yard work had literally saved me.

“Yeah I am,” I said abruptly.

Her tone suddenly softened. “Some of us are hanging at Addison’s place tonight. You should come.”

“I’m busy.”

“We should enter the Fall Tournament together.”

“No thanks.”

“Max, you can’t give up on tennis because of what happened to Phoenix,” she said, her eyes blinking rapidly.

“Excuse me?” I scowled.

“Max, we all hate what happened to Phoenix. But you don’t have to give up tennis because of it. Phoenix wouldn’t want that.” Bianca looked like she was on the brink of tears, and for a moment I sensed her sincerity was real.

But my bitterness toward her was too deeply ingrained, and I snapped, “You don’t know anything, Bianca.”

I pulled my keys from my pocket, but fumbled as I tried to press the car remote. In frustration I slammed my fist against the door. And because I was so fired up, my anger continued. “And what about the kiss? Why on earth would you say that?”

“It was just a joke. Just a bit of fun, Max. I was trying to perk you up,” she said, placating me with a hand to my shoulder. I shrugged away from her touch, my heart full of rage. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it’s been a tough time.”

I rolled my eyes and huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Maybe Bianca had meant to lighten the moment, but forgiveness didn’t come easy. Sometimes it felt like I deserved the pain of holding on to things.

---