LOVESTRUCK - Taylor Swift

TWENTY-ONE

THROUGH THE BLUE EYES OF
SOPHIE BENNETT

HE was sitting in the stands with these white shorts on that looked terrible with his hairy old knees. Taylor didn't recognize him, and I actually wasn't sure if she even knew what Jon looked like because I'd never offered up a picture, I didn't have any on purpose. Maybe she'd googled it, or saw pictures of us when she'd googled me to find those horrid pictures she liked so much.

He always sat closer to the front of the stands during games, but never in the players box when the court had one. Sarah's parents were on the far side of the stands and I wanted to say hi to them eventually but I wasn't sure if I'd be able to move from that seat.

People funnelled in as the game time became closer. I was excited to see Sarah play, in fact, as she came out onto the court she saw Taylor and I in the stands and smiled, nodding once in a respectful manner instead of waving. She looked so grown up compared to the last time I'd seen her, but still far too young to be involved with him.

I leaned forward on my seat as I tried to get a closer look at what was going on down on the court. The ball collectors were getting into position, the referee was in the chair. It smelled nostalgic, but mixed with hints of Taylor's cherry perfume that made it all so much better. I could hear shoes squeaking on the court, rackets being picked up.

Finally, finally, finally I'd gotten the courage to walk back into that world even if it wasn't in the way I should've, and it actually felt so good. Especially because Jon didn't turn around all throughout the first point and I eventually stopped looking at the back of his head every five seconds.

"Do they always grunt so much? Did you grunt like that?" Taylor whispered between points and I smiled at her question, shaking my head. Absolutely not.

"No. You can get fined for it, actually. Some people consider it cheating, trying to throw off your opponent. I never needed to play dirty," I answered her and felt her arm slip around my waist.

She pressed her head against my shoulder as she mumbled, "How humble of you."

Sarah played her serve and it immediately went straight into the net, not even crossing the court. I pursed my lips with disappointment, noticing how discouraged she looked right away. There were a series of gasps and groans from the audience, but then someone in a pair of nasty white shorts stood up and yelled, "What the fuck are you doing?!"

That was not allowed, and it was obnoxious. Coaches were strictly forbidden from communicating with the players, and I'd lost my shit on Jon the one time I'd been penalized for it and he never did it again. He just saved the screaming for when we got back to our hotel or home. Now, I saw, that it had changed, and the worst part was that her eyes flashed up at him and then filled with fear.

"That guy has a problem," Taylor whispered with a dry laugh, just as everyone was starting to settle down again.

I hummed quietly, wondering if I should bother getting into that with her. She seemed to be enjoying the game so far, despite Sarah losing the first one. She could still bounce back, but it was obvious her confidence was shaken and Jon's angry clenched fists weren't helping either of us as he became more wound and wound with every contact of the ball.

As I'd expected, it became painstakingly clear that Sarah probably wasn't going to advance to the second round. I was glad I didn't opt for tickets on her second day of games, because there probably wouldn't be one. She had barely scraped together the points needed to skip qualifiers but she just wasn't as good as the woman she was up against.

"Get your head out of your ass!" Jon screamed at the top of his lungs, and the referee mentioned something to Sarah and she pursed her lips. Jon shouted again, and I felt anger bubbling up in my chest because it was likely that he could ruin whatever was left of her chances.