"Hannah," Eliza shouts up the stairs, her voice classically raspy, and her pronounced 'a' as always, very Italian. I barely muffle a 'coming' before she races up the stairs and throws her pillow at me.
"I cook you breakfast and this is how you repay me?" She shouts some type of insult I don't understand before I rise out of bed, puffy eyes and some left over mascara littered all over my face.
"It is quarter to 8 and practice start- Eugh! What is that?" She disgustedly points at my face and I feel my ego shatter. "Good morning dear roomie," I sarcastically chant in my equally raspy voice, smiling, "what you are seeing is simply beauty."
"Your beauty look like hangover with too much red wine,"
Ah yes. European bluntness. The reason for half of my insecurities and also, look at that! The other half of my insecurities.
I catch her walking out, whispering more things I don't think I want to understand this time. "Eliza, did you say there was practice? I thought we had today off?"
"Coach said he wanted us there for some inagarashin thing,"
"Some, what?" I may be red wine hungover but that does not make me good at Italian.
"In-ag-yu-ray-tion," she repeats, in a mocking American accent.
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A beautiful late summer sunrise echoed over the courts as Hannah and Eliza stood in full kit. Hannah, unknowing of what an inagirity, or at least whatever it was that her roommate had pronounced, wore her go-to 2 Dollar white tee she thrifted and her tiny skort. Eliza, however, wore her coral matching kit she reserved strictly for 'Big Ones' as she called them; basically just important matches.
When both girls came closer to the courts, Hannah realised what she was seeing was nowhere near what she had expected.
Streamers and banners replaced their usual leaderboards and warmup training reminders. Half of their team wore party hats while the other half stood around a table adorned with a tennis-ball-tablecloth. Hannah stood there, mouth agape.
Party ribbons, banners saying 'WELCOME!' and way more people than usual on a Saturday morning.
"Eli. Did you mean an inauguration?"
"Yes, that's what I said- en-ag-yu--"
"Battista! Surprised you could make it! Heard you had a big night last night," Coach Harry shouts from the toddler bedspread table.
"Yeah, it was pretty big," Hannah let out a chuckle. Is crying watching Paddington 2 while drinking red wine still considered a big night? Was it ever actually considered a big night?
The two girls advance to the table, greeting senior players and looking at the array of banners.
"What's all this about, Joe?" Hannah yawns out, her eyes resting on the red sun peaking out of the clouds.
"We got a new player, some bigshot British. And he brought some money for the academy with him,"
"Yeah Han, looks like you might no longer be the sugar daddy of Magnor!" A player approaches her, putting his arm around her shoulder.
"Thomas, Joe, time and place! Can we not talk about stuff like this when Mr. Dalfors is here?" Their coach shouted under his breath.
"Dalfors?" Hannah jumped. Then her eyes diverted off the sky. Vanilla, curly hair, tan skin, freckles, Sebastian.
And there he was. Sebastian Dalfors. The man in front of her smiled at something Tom had said. Had he noticed her? Did he remember her? Did he even care?
"Ah, Sebastian was it?"
"Please Coach, Basti is fine."
"Well then, Basti. This right here is our top women's player here at Magnor, Hannah Battista. We just call her Battista, though."
Hannah smiled at him wryly.
"Ha-" He starts, a smile forming on his face.
"Nice to meet you, Sebastian." Hannah's heart was almost forcing her body back and forward as she put her hand forward.
Sebastian's face flashed for a second.
"Like I said, Basti is just fine. Nice to meet you, Battista."
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"Well, that was weird," Tom exhaled. The sun was high up in the sky by now, the dooming afternoon lectures non-existent and Hannah soaked in the light and warmth.
Everyone was busy packing up the banners and chasing after streamers when sudden gusts of wind came about. They had been told practice was still as normal and all freshmen had to clean up before they could start.
The two Juniors sat on the hot bench, recharging their social batteries after answering too many questions about their degrees and futures if tennis doesn't work out for them.
"What are you talking about? It was a totally normal conversation," Hannah nervously looked at Tom.
"Yeah right. You and that Dalfors guy were totally talking to each other normally. How did you even know I was talking about him?" Hannah rolled her eyes.
"I'm not pissed though," Tom laughed. "Does this mean Batti finally comes out tonight to his proper Magnauguration?"
Hannah glances at Tom, his hands together, wishing for her answer. "Maybe,"
Tom gasps: "Hear that Surrey? She's coming."
Hannah sighed as she caught sight of the phone call on Tom's phone.
Joe Surrey, who had gone home earlier to 'study', answers back. "Recorded and everything. Han Bat is coming out tonight!!"
YOU ARE READING
When Love Wins
Romance"Should've brought you some cricket gloves," Where she only plays this godforsaken sport for him, always aimlessly trying to buy his time. And he has been obsessed with her for just as long as she has.
