Tennis Boy

Hot Summer Nights

To say I was upset that I moved to a new city would be an understatement. My anger ran vigorously through my body. I couldn't be more upset than I am right now. Now, I perfectly understand the reason for my mother and I moving, I just can't believe I'm practically starting my life all over again.

About a month ago, my mother and father got a divorce. They didn't fight, they just both felt as if their love for each other had faded over the years. So my mom, who was the bread-winner in the family, made the appropriate choice to move out. She exclaimed to me that she was looking for a fresh start, and that's why we moved to a whole other state. But couldn't she have gotten a fresh start back home, just away from dad? Why did we have to move so far away?

There really isn't any need for me to be whining about the situation anymore; what's done is done.

...

It was around 7PM when I went to go take my service dog out for a walk. Her name is Marjorie, after the Taylor Swift song, and she is the best thing to ever cross lives with me. She's a bundle of energy and joy, and is always making people smile. Our neighborhood was one of those huge, rich, preppy neighborhoods you think every stereotypical rich person lives in. The good thing was that I didn't grow up in a neighborhood like this back home, so I hadn't fallen under the mindset of a rich, snobby brat.

Today especially, Marjorie was full of energy, so I decided I'd take her to the tennis courts my mom had told me about. I didn't play tennis, not competitively anyway, but Marjorie had an unhealthy obsession with chasing the tennis balls.

It was a relatively short walk to the tennis courts. I opened the gate and headed to the furthest court from the entrance, making sure to pick up one of the bucket of balls the neighborhood provided. To my elation, there was nobody on any of the three courts; it would just be Marjorie and I.

After about fifteen minutes of me hitting balls for Marjorie to chase after, I heard the screeching and shredding of the metal gate against the concrete floor. Another boy, who looked to be my age, showed up with a bag on his back. I couldn't see what the boy looked like, or what the bag was for; being blind really is a curse. I stared at him for a few seconds before going back to hitting balls for Marjorie who was sitting at my feet patiently waiting for me.

I took a glance over at the boy who had taken the court in the middle. He was just hitting balls across the court, practicing forehands and backhands. Every time he went to go pick up the balls he himself had brought, I could catch the smallest glimpse of what he looked like. From the little I could see, he looked stunning. He had black, fluffy hair, tanned skin, and a strong figure. That's about all I could make out from not only how far away I was, but because of how blind I really was.

It had been about thirty minutes since Marjorie and I had arrived at the courts before I noticed she was getting a little slower than when we first started. So, I picked up the last round of balls and threw them back in the bucket. As I started walking towards the exit, I could hear the boy approaching me.

"Hey.. uh, would you mind hitting balls with me?" He asked.

It was starting to get dark, and my vision wouldn't really aid me in any way, but Marjorie was panting; it would probably be difficult for her to make it back home without hurting herself. So, I took his offer.

"Uh, yeah. I have ten-ish minutes to spare. But fair warning, I'm not very good," I said as I set my phone down on the ground and took my AirPods out of my now aching ears from having them in so long.

He laughed at what I had said, "that's fine. I just need live practice."

He made his way to the other side of the court before shouting, "do you want to serve?"

"Oh.. you already have the ball, you can serve," I said giving him a slight smile.

He then got ready and whacked the ball over the net. His serve wasn't particularly strong, but it was still nothing to disregard; it was at least something I could return. I backhanded the ball and we rallied for awhile before I shot the ball down the line and got the first point.

"You're a lefty, huh," he stated as he tossed the ball over to me.

"Yeah," I said as I scratched the back of my head, not knowing what he was implying.

"I find it much harder to play lefties than righties," he stated, "some of them have uncommon play-styles that I can never pick up on."

"Well, I've only played for a little under two months, so I can assure you my skills are probably pretty standard," I said as I returned to my side.

He just laughed as he also retuned to his side. What he didn't know is that I had a 'mean' serve. Or at least that's what my instructor says. She always says my ball bends weird, but she can't quite figure out why.

I got in the serving position and mashed the ball over the net. To my eyes, it looked like he was going to return it pretty easily, but he somehow missed.

"That was hot," I whispered to myself as I walked back to the net.

"That was.. something," he said smiling, "your serve doesn't bounce very high off the ground."

"Yeah, I totally thought you were going to hit it," I said, sharing his confusion.

We continued playing, and unbeknownst to me, the ten-ish minutes I had planned on playing ended up being close to twenty-five minutes.

"Hey, I totally lost track of time, I really need to get home," I said as we both approached the net.

"Shit, you're probably right," He said as he scratched the back of his head.

"Anyway, I really enjoyed playing with you," I said smiling, "I hadn't really played with anyone, so I was glad that you asked me."

"Yeah, you're actually really good, especially for someone whose only played for two months," he said.

"You're too sweet," I said flustered, "anyway, imma head home. Nice playing with you!"

As I was walking back to the sleepy Marjorie and my other belongings, he shouted back at me.

"Hey, could I.. uh, get your number?"

I was a little caught off guard by what he asked, but I turned around, with my phone in hand, and gave him my answer.

"Yeah, of course!" I said as I walked back to him.

He handed me his phone and I typed in my number. I put my contact as 'tennis boy' and handed him his phone back.

He let out a little snicker when I handed him the phone back.

"Tennis boy," he said.

"Yeah sorry, I couldn't think of a name to put," I said, letting out a slight awkward giggle.

"Well, you could've put 'pretty tennis boy.' That would've been much more fitting."

I instantly blushed at him comment, shades of red and pink leaking through my cheeks.

"Anyway," he started again, "I think we best head home."

"Yeah.. that'd be a good idea," I replied.

We both made our way back to the gate and walked off in different directions. I was letting Marjorie lead the way, because God knows there is no way I can see in this kind of darkness.

While I was listening to my music, I head a 'ping' come from my phone. The text read, "I had fun today :)."

I smiled at the message as I hearted his text.