BASELINE ✸ Art Donaldson

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Fifteen. A Replica of Her

"ARE YOUR MOTHER'S SHOES HARD TO FILL?"

It had been a question she'd been asked hundreds of times over the years and still, even now, it makes her blood boil with irritation.

Yet still, she plasters an ear-to-ear grin on her face as she looks up at the woman standing before her. "My mother was brilliant in what she did, and I honor carrying her legacy every time I step out onto that court."

It wasn't entirely a lie, but Tatum would say whatever she needed to just get this over with. She hated interviews — especially ones like these.

"And was it hard? Growing up in a tennis-revolves environment." The taller woman has dark black hair and purple-framed glasses. She didn't look like your typical sports magazine representative and frankly, smelled like cat food and litter.

Tatum smiled. "It made me who I am today."

"And what about coaching Patrick Zweig? Rumor has it you're going to be the one to coach him to victory." She beams, glasses getting pushed up the bridge of her nose as it scrunches. "I imagine that must be difficult to obtain whilst being an athlete yourself."

Tatum tries to hide her distaste with the breathiest of laughs. "He's an old friend of mine, so it's really nothing I didn't already owe to him."

The woman breaks out into a laugh like it's the funniest thing she's ever heard. "Oh! Right, your Stanford training. It must be difficult trying to coach your friend while your ex-fiancé — current Men's Tennis Legend — Art Donaldson is possibly going to be going head-to-head with him."

It's getting increasingly more difficult for Tatum to bite her tongue now, and the annoyance swarming in her belly and clenching around her brain is only intensifying. But still, she keeps a smile. "Patrick and I aren't threatened."

"But it must be difficult?" She pries further. "I mean, anyone who's been involved in the Tennis world for the last two decades knows how fairytale-like yours and Art Donaldson's relationship was like. Can you tell us more?"

She clenched and unclenches her jaw, now ready to snap. "I think it's rude of you to even s—"

She's cut off by Aaron's nervous laughter, his hand holding the small of her arm as he pulls her away. "Time's up. We've got to go train for tomorrow's match."

Tatum's face returns to it's normal shade — no longer a bright red as Aaron gives her that fatherly look.

"What's the angle?" He asks, both hands on his hips as he looks at her like she's a child who's just gotten in a fight on the playground.

She scoffs. "Whats my angle—"

Aaron motions for her to bring the volume of her tone down, but it only makes Tatum want to yell even louder.

"That interviewer had no right—" She starts, but Aaron cuts her off with a chuckle.

Although, there's no humor implied. It's more so a nervous one. "Tatum."

Taken aback by the look on his face, she looks at him past two furrowed brows.

"You sound crazy." He says, offering her a lopsided smile. "I mean, seriously, what is going on with you?"

Tatum swallows but her mouth has gone dry. She didn't realize it was so apparent that something was so wrong that he could see right through her. "What?"

"Your palms are sweating and your body language is awful today." He says, causing her to look at the creasing of her palms and to untense her shoulders. "Talk to me, Tum."

She thinks long and hard on it for a moment, unsure of whether or not she should actually confess to him the events of the last week. He knows next to nothing and Tatum wasn't sure whether or not she wanted to keep it that way. She bites her lip in contemplation before meeting his blue eyes a final time. "Let's just get this over with."

CLASSIC TATUM, she thought to herself. Always running away from conversations.

It was a self-esteem thing, or rather, a deep rooted fear. She was afraid of what the unsaid was — what words could come out of the person she's conversing with after she's said something unforgivable. So she just walks away from it.

And that drives Aaron crazy. In fact, it was the reason they'd been sitting in silence now. Until finally, he cleared his throat.

"Are you gonna eat that?" He wonders aloud, motioning with his fork to the salad she'd just been toying with for the last twenty minutes, deep in thought.

She shook her head, sliding the plate to him. Patrick was on a date in the lobby and Tatum couldn't help but wonder what the two would have to talk about seeing as she had a Real Estate firm and he was Patrick.

"Are you excited for your match tomorrow?" He asks with a mouthful of food. "It's a miracle that they cleared you to play."

Tatum snorts, but her face remains dull. "They only cleared me because you paid them."

He nods, finally slowing down as tension creeps up in the air. "Right."

Silence again. Awkward, awkward silence.

"It's been what, a year, since the accident?" He asks, appearing to be in somewhat of a thought as he swallows — taking Tatum by utter surprise.

10 months and 22 days.

Tatum hadn't been counting because she was eager to return to the court, but because she was counting down how many more days of freedom she'd have before having to return.

"Mm-hmm."

"Well," He finishes off his plate and smiles, reaching over to ruffle her hair. "You're gonna do great tomorrow, Tum."

IT HAD BEEN LATE INTO THE NIGHT AND TATUM COULDN'T SLEEP. She had just awoken from a two-hour nap but it was already 3:54 am.

Which is why when there was a knock on her door, she was especially confused. Startled, even.

She carefully crept past Patrick, who had been sleeping on an air mattress on the floor in front of the fire place in their suite — careful not to awake him.

She'd practically been on her tiptoes, delicately maneuvering him before quirky unlocking the door and opening it.

But she wished she hadn't because on the other side, stood Art.

Blonde hair tousled and blue eyes unfocused. He's wearing a grey t-shirt and light blue sweatpants and he looks entirely distraught.

Tatum rubs her tired eyes with the back of her hand. "It's 4 in the morning—"

"She left me."

BLAKELY SPEAKS !
sad sexy men groveling GOOO ‼️