by M. B. Gerard
Hitting some balls with players other than her sister had turned out to be a good experience and the fear of alienating herself from Lulu too much, too soon was now slowly fading away to her relief. Obviously, the changes she had decided to stick to in Stanford were paying off. Yes, everything would have been perfect if it hadn’t been for the current draw. Two days ago the draw had been made and it had resulted in sleepless nights for Gabriella.
Stopping for the thousandth time in front of the large draw board that had been set up in front of the entrance of the players’ lounge, Gabriella slowly went through all the names. After quite a few years on the tour, Gabriella had become an expert in analyzing a draw. She didn’t need the help of her coach or a team to figure out whom she would likely meet in the third round or a quarterfinal. Ranking didn’t matter, she knew. Upsets could happen anytime and Gabriella was better at analyzing potential match ups than most of the players which was due to the pact she had had with Luella.
Her eyes stopped at her sister’s name. Lulu would have to beat two easy opponents in the first two rounds. And if she won, which was very likely she would have to play Sasha in the quarterfinal.
“Damn,” Gabriella said to herself.
This was exactly the kind of scenario that Gabriella wanted to avoid at all cost? I know your little secret. Sasha’s words, after they had played the Wimbledon final, still rang in her ears. In the sleepless nights during her brief vacation she had figured out that Sasha thought Lulu was gay. It was a hilarious thought. How could anyone in her right mind believe Lulu was into girls and faking a relationship with Rafael? But standing in front of the wicked draw again, Gabriella couldn’t laugh. There had to be a solution, she thought. Of course, she could simply take up the Galloway pact again and play for Lulu. She was sure, when it came to playing Sasha her twin sister would be more than happy if Gaga offered to play in her place. But she didn’t want to give up her new independence. How was she supposed to break free from Luella if she played Sasha in this tournament? She had to stay strong. Out of frustration she gave the wall a little kick.
“You don’t like the draw,” a voice behind her announced.
Gabriella whirled around. It was Tom. She gave him a quick smile but shook her head.
“Well, everyone is looking forward to a potential rematch of the Wimbledon final,” Tom smiled. Gabriella realized that he had mistaken her for Luella.
“Sure,” she shrugged, then turned around and walked away without another word, knowing that he thought he was talking to Luella for whom such behavior was normal.
Gabriella stepped out of the players’ area and looked up at the sky. It was a cloudless day, perfect and warm. The sun was blinding. A gorgeous Indian summer announced itself in America. She took a long, deep breath then closed her eyes. She had to calm down! A few seconds flew by. Perhaps Lulu would screw up and lose in the earlier rounds. Perhaps the anticipated match between Lulu and Sasha and a possible meeting in the locker rooms would never happen. Gabriella suppressed the nausea the thought of a meeting between Lulu and Sasha caused, but she couldn’t deny the fact that her twin sister had the perfect draw for the first two rounds. A qualifier and another player ranked beyond the Top 50. She began walking across the grass area to the parking lot, but then straightened her back and cocked her chin into the air before resolutely stepping out onto the pavement.
She knew she had to do something. There was no way Lulu was going to meet Sasha alone in a locker room. No way.
***
“Thank God we skipped The Cherry Tree for a change. Everyone goes there! Every night. It almost feels like you are having dinner in the players’ lounge,” Elise muttered while looking into the menu Amanda was holding up for both of them.
Monica had invited Agnes along with Candice and the younger players to a restaurant which was located in a different part of the city from the players’ hotel. It was much more cozy and they didn’t have to fear being seen by curious journalists or fans.
“How are my little ones doing?” Monica asked innocently.
Amanda grinned at Elise. Surely Agnes and Monica had planned on taking advantage of the meal to inquire about their pet project – Amanda and Elise. Knowing Monica, Amanda had warned Elise that they couldn’t expect any subtlety in the first place, but confronted with the question Elise bit her lip.
“We are fine,” they said in unison.
Agnes and Monica looked at each other, immediately reading the simultaneous answer correctly. Elise and Amanda looked down at the tablecloth.
“Have you told your parents already?” Agnes asked Elise calmly.
“I am working on it.” Elise glanced over to Amanda, who gave her an affirmative nod.
“Little by little, step by step,” Agnes said, touching Elise’s arm. “I know your dad and I remember when I told him about me. Scared the shit out of me, I can tell you. But he was absolutely lovely. I know, it’s going to be different when it’s your own child and not just a player you coach but there is no reason for it not to go well.”
Elise swallowed hard and briefly nodded at Agnes. It was nice of her friend to buoy her up, but she had tried so often to bring up the topic with her parents and every time she had failed. When the waiter arrived and they ordered their food, Elise relaxed again. She didn’t want to think about the big step she had to take sooner or later. Then she remembered something she wanted to ask Monica.
“Do you know anything about Task Tennis?” Elise addressed the older player.
“What?” Elise couldn’t tell by Monica’s face whether she was surprised or hadn’t understood the question.
“Well, you know, Tennis Nurse,” she said uneasily. Perhaps she shouldn’t have mentioned it. A thought suddenly came to her mind. Maybe Monica had been part of the group of eight players. Elise thought it was probably not wise to tell Monica about Morgana’s research.
“I read an older novel,” she lied awkwardly. “There was a reference to that game. I thought you knew more about it? It sounds like good fun.”
Elise noticed that Agnes and Monica exchanged a quick glance.
“Yes,” Monica answered with a shrug. “I read some of them back in the day. But it’s fictitious.”
“Is it?” Elise said as casually as possible, knowing she was walking on thin ice. “I heard there might be some truth in it.”
Monica laughed, and Agnes and Candice joined in.
“That’s how they sell you this nonsense,” Candice explained with a wink. “It’s called marketing.”
***
This restaurant was definitely better than The Cherry Tree, Mint thought while having a look around the dining area. Not only was the food better. The very expensive restaurant was almost empty, which ensured that whatever Evelina Rickenbacher, Mint’s stepmother might do next would happen far away from her fellow tennis players and therefore couldn’t embarrass her. Only her friend Chili was there, but she knew Evelina and her moods already.
“Do you girls want some drinks?” Evelina got up from the table. “I will go to the bar, just to wind down a bit.”
Chili and Mint shook their heads politely at Mint’s stepmother who walked over to the second room where some relaxing music was being played. For the U.S. season Evelina Rickenbacher had decided to travel with Mint, to keep her company, she had said. But Mint knew she wanted to keep an eye on her stepdaughter if only to determine why the money she and Mint’s dad put into coaches and trainers hadn’t paid off lately. Mint had stumbled a bit during the grass season. As soon as Evelina had vanished into the other room, Chili leaned over and smiled brightly.
“Did you see?”
Still contemplating her new watchdog situation, Mint shrugged. She used to be wonderfully independent.
“What?”
“Elise and Amanda. Together again.”
Surprised, Mint turned her head around and spotted the two girls at a table a bit further away, along with Agnes, Candice and Monica. Turning back to Chili, she shrugged agai
n. What did she care about smiley Elise? She was more worried about the embarrassment a drunken Evelina would one day cause at a tournament.
“Agnes was coached by Elise’s dad once,” Mint said. “They’ve known each other forever, and Monica and Amanda used to play doubles for a while.” It seemed a logical explanation for the group on the other side of the room.
“They spend a lot of time together without Agnes and Monica,” Chili winked at Mint.
That was true. Mint laughed out loud, then leaned back in her chair. “Are you trying to give me a hint?”
“Well, word has it that Elise is Amanda’s new girl. I overheard a conversation in the showers the other day,” Chili explained. “I have heard they booked their hotel rooms on the same floor, opposite each other. If that’s not dating then I don’t know what it is!”
“You are imagining things. Elise isn’t gay. I mean, never ever!” Chili snorted, but then bent over and cast a glance at Elise’s table again. The young German was laughing at something Monica said. She looked happy. Mint felt her chest tighten up. Not only was Elise having an awesome season but she also seemed to have fun off court. Mint bit her lower lip and swallowed hard as jealousy kicked in. She suddenly got up from her chair.
“I’ll get us some drinks,” she proclaimed, heading to the bar and leaving a surprised Chili behind.
***
“Do they have Italian food, there? I’m dying for some real pasta and tiramisu,” Antonia Sapore proclaimed.
With a chuckle Tom nodded and pushed open the door of the restaurant. Soon, the three of them sat at a table far from the large windows where everyone could spot them. Martina and Antonia weren’t too keen on being recognized. They had just gone through a whole afternoon of interviews and photo shoots. It was time to have a break, now.
“When can we have the photos? I would like to keep a few of them,” Martina said to Tom.
“Yes, I like the one where we are in these big deckchairs in the garden area,” Antonia smiled.
“Oh, that is a very sweet picture of you,” Tom admitted, then grinned. “You look like newly-weds.”
Antonia and Martina exchanged a quick look, then they began to look at Tom intently, wondering what he meant.
“I know about your Italo-Argentine alliance,” Tom said casually. Antonia and Martina shifted in their chairs wondering even more where this conversation was going.
“What do you mean?” Antonia asked, but a wink from the photographer put an end to their doubts.
“I mean, I know that you are together.”
Antonia and Martina looked at him with wide eyes. Of course, some people knew about them by now. Most of the doubles players were aware of their relationship. But someone like Tom, whose job involved covering mostly the better ranked singles players shouldn’t have access to this kind of information. Antonia placed both hands on the table. She seemed on the verge of succumbing and either throwing an Italian tantrum or slapping that smug scribbler in the face. But Martina held her back.
“Fine,” the Argentine said carefully. “Now, what do you want?”
“Nothing,” Tom said.
He seemed amazed by the sudden irritation shown by Antonia and Martina. Creating a certain complicity, Tom bent over the table and lowered his voice.
“Don’t worry, girls,” he whispered smiling somewhat mischievously. “I’m totally gay myself!”
Martina snorted in surprise, but then leaned back relieved. Not that Tom’s confession was surprising, now that the Argentine thought about it. The truth was that she just hadn’t paid attention to him in the first place. Sure he looked a bit flamboyant but she simply wasn’t interested in guys – straight or gay.
“Well, a bit unfortunate for you to work on the women’s side of the tour,” she said, while taking a look around at the tables to check if anybody could overhear their conversation.
“Of course, I am more interested in the ATP catalogue,” Tom chuckled. He paused for a moment as if he was having an idea. “Thus if you ever know some male players who play that field, I’m all ears,” he said slowly, waiting for an answer.
“Good thing we are in Cincy now,” Antonia grinned. “Loads of boys in the catalogue for you.”
Tom looked smug, waiting for Antonia to go on and reveal some names. The Italian was just about to give the British guy some juicy stories she knew about the male players when Martina stopped her abruptly by raising a hand.
“It’s only rumors,” she said quickly, ignoring the protesting look of Antonia. “No one knows anything definite about the guys. So, I don’t think it’s fair to spread the rumors.”
She smiled politely at Tom and then waved over the waiter to order a soft drink.
***
Under the sheets Elise pulled at Amanda’s pants with vehement impatience but the pyjama shorts wouldn’t come off. The German had already successfully got rid of Amanda’s shirt but now she seemed to struggle. Elise moaned in frustration while Amanda silently chuckled, not only because the action tickled her but because of Elise’s incessant worship of Amanda’s body. The Australian felt wonderful. She had come through some tough matches in the last two weeks and was satisfied with the tennis she had played. Due to her seeding she had no match to play tomorrow. But Elise would be exhausted if she kept pulling so hard at Amanda’s pants.
“You will fall out of bed,” Amanda giggled. “And maybe we should wait until the strawberries have arrived.” Using every last ounce of energy Elise ripped down the pants and lifting the blanket she triumphantly threw the pants behind her and looked upon her naked Australian lover.
“I’m sure we can finish the first set before they are served,” Elise teased, catching her breath. They had just called room service, ordering a bowl of strawberries. Not that they needed an aphrodisiac, but they had found it an extravagant idea and fun to order erotic foodstuff. But then Elise frowned. There was a knock at the door.
“See. I told you, this was a good hotel. They are quick,” Amanda winked at the German. She pulled the blanket over her naked body while Elise got up and walked to the door as she was still dressed. Watching Elise with her long blonde hair and her tall body produced a warm and fuzzy sensation in Amanda’s stomach. It felt good to be adored by such a beautiful girl.
Elise disappeared into the corridor and opened the door. From the bed Amanda could only hear her inhale sharply.
“Mama!”
“You forgot to give me your laundry,” Amanda heard Elise’s mother say.
“Yes,” Elise blurted out hastily. “Yes, I’ll get it for you.”
The German backed up waving to her mother to wait at the door, then turned around to Amanda placing a finger over her mouth. Her eyes were opened wide in panic. Immediately Amanda grew absolutely still, aware of her nakedness under the blanket and the ridiculously awkward situation they were suddenly in. Elise rushed to the bathroom and began to rummage through her laundry bags in search of her sweaty practice clothes. But she wasn’t fast enough.
When Elise’s mother knocked again at the half-closed door and then opened it, Amanda wanted to warn Elise, but it was too late. The more light from the hotel corridor fell through the opening door into the room the further Amanda slipped down under the sheet. Only her nose was sticking out over the blanket. Just as Elise stepped out of the bathroom with her arms full of laundry, her mom walked around the corner. With raised eyebrows she oversaw the scenario.
“We wanted to watch a movie,” Elise and Amanda mumbled in unison realizing when Elise’s mother turned around to the TV, that this was the most flimflammed declaration ever. The TV was not even switched on. And Amanda’s shorts were hanging from the monitor. Everyone looked at the blue pants but no one said a word. Then Elise’s mother grabbed the laundry from her shell-shocked daughter. Giving Elise a kiss on the cheek she told them to have fun, wished them a good-night and left the room.
As soon as the door was closed, Amanda cracked up laughing. That was the most embarrassing moment sh
e had had in a while. But when Elise sat down on the bedside and started to sob Amanda knew that this would be a long, hard night that not even the strawberries, which arrived shortly after and Amanda began feeding to Elise, could sweeten.
***
The hotel corridor was empty and the lights were dimmed. Hesitating for another moment, Sasha finally decided to just do it. Why not give in to a little craving? She had pulled herself together for the last weeks and had not given in to temptation. It was tennis, tennis, tennis for her. She had worked hard on the practice courts and in the gym. And why not reward her effort with a harmless prize?
Dressed in her pyjamas and her morning slippers Sasha walked down the hallway to the elevators. She knew where she had to go. But at the very moment she pressed the button she heard a door open and voices talking. Damn, she thought. It was 2 A.M. in the morning. Why couldn’t people sleep?
The voices came nearer and looking around Sasha saw the fire exit stairs and decided not to wait for the elevator. She sprinted up the stairs and thinking about the sweet reward she would soon hold in her hands she had to smile to herself. It was harmless, after all, she told herself, and nobody had to know. It was just one time. Arriving at the next floor she stopped to check her pulse.
Yes, she thought. Nothing to worry about. She was as fit as a fiddle. She could handle the little peccadillo on the side.
She pushed open the door to the hallway. In front of her opposite the elevator doors she could see her destination. The vending machine was radiating a cool, wondrous light as if to promote the sweet temptations hidden inside. Thinking about the candy bars melting in her mouth Sasha couldn’t help grinning. She hadn’t had chocolate since Eastbourne.
