Love, Set, Match

two

𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟼
The sun dipped low over the Stanford tennis courts, casting long shadows as Marissa, Art, and Patrick ate hot dogs and had sodas from the concession stands.

Art, with a mischievous glint in his eye, turned to Patrick, who sat beside him, and said, "Can you do me a favor?"

Patrick, wiping sweat from his brow, replied with a casual, "Mmhmm."

"Can you not demolish me tomorrow?" Art asked, half-jokingly.

Patrick's lips curled into a smirk. "Shut the fuck up."

Undeterred, Art continued, "Listen, I'm at peace with the fact that you're going to win."

Patrick chuckled. "It's not a fact."

Art persisted, "I'm just saying, throw me a couple of games, maybe a set."

With a shrug, Patrick said, "If it matters to you so much, I can just give it to you."

"Really?" Art's eyes widened in surprise.

"Yeah," Patrick confirmed. "I mean, every once in a while, a kid who wins juniors turns out to be an actually great player, but most of them end up in, like, the top 300. It's a curse."

Art nodded, absorbing Patrick's words. "You said you seemed pretty excited about winning the doubles trophy. That was different. That was just you and me. This is really fun."

Patrick grinned. "All right, well... But you have to actually play. You know, you can't just retire. I need it to look like I really beat you."

Art chuckled, catching Patrick's meaning. "Have you got money on this or something?"

"No," Art replied with a laugh. "My grandma, she's gonna be watching with her nursing home. She keeps calling me, telling me how proud she is."

Patrick rolled his eyes playfully. "Don't guilt me with your dying grandmother."

Marissa walked silently besides them, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions as she replayed her conversation with her dad earlier that day.

"Hey, Marissa, you okay?" Patrick's voice broke through her thoughts, concern evident in his tone.

Marissa forced a smile, nodding as she tried to push aside her worries. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."

But Patrick wasn't convinced. "You sure? You seem a little... off."

Before Marissa could respond, Art chimed in, oblivious to the tension in the air. "Hey, did you guys hear about that new recruit, Tashi Duncan? Apparently, she's a total powerhouse on the court."

Marissa's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Tashi's name, her stomach twisting into knots. She knew all too well just how formidable her cousin could be, both on and off the court.

"Yeah, I heard," Marissa replied, her voice tight. "Should be interesting to see her play."

Patrick and Art exchanged a glance, sensing Marissa's discomfort but choosing not to press her further.

"Yeah, definitely," Patrick said, trying to steer the conversation in a lighter direction. "But hey, we've got our own powerhouse right here, don't we?"

Marissa managed a weak smile, grateful for her friends' attempts to cheer her up. But deep down, she knew that Tashi's presence at Stanford would only complicate things further, reigniting the fierce rivalry that had always existed between them.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the tennis courts, Marissa couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of her stomach. Little did Patrick and Art know, the arrival of Tashi Duncan would soon turn their world upside down, challenging everything they thought they knew about friendship, competition, and the bonds of family.
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𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟿
The fluorescent lights flickered overhead as Marissa stepped into the bustling newsroom, the familiar hum of activity filling the air. It had been years since she'd last set foot in this place as a tennis player, but now she was here for an entirely different reason. Heading straight for her desk, Marissa sank into her chair and pulled up her email, scanning through the messages that had piled up overnight. But her attention was quickly drawn to a new message from her boss, with the subject line "Urgent Meeting."With a sense of trepidation, Marissa made her way to her boss's office, her mind racing with questions about what could possibly be so urgent.

"Marissa, come in, come in," her boss said with a warm smile, motioning for her to take a seat.

Marissa obliged, settling into the chair across from her boss's desk. "You wanted to see me?"Her boss nodded, leaning back in her chair.

"Yes, I did. I've got an exciting opportunity for you."

Marissa's curiosity was piqued. "Oh? What kind of opportunity?"

"We've been given press credentials for the Challengers event in New Rochelle," her boss explained. "And I want you to cover it."

Marissa's eyes widened in surprise. "Me? But I'm not a tennis player anymore."

Her boss waved off her concerns. "Doesn't matter. You know the game better than anyone else here, and I trust your instincts as a journalist. Plus, I hear there's going to be a pretty interesting match-up in the early rounds."

Marissa felt a knot form in her stomach as she realized what her boss was hinting at. "You mean... Art and Patrick?"Her boss nodded.

"Exactly. I want you to be there to cover it, Marissa. I know it's been years since you've talked to them, but I believe you're the best person for the job."

Marissa hesitated, her mind whirling with conflicting emotions. It had been years since she'd last spoken to Patrick and Art since she'd walked away from the world of tennis altogether. But now, faced with the opportunity to cover their match, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia for the game she'd once loved so fiercely.

Taking a deep breath, Marissa nodded. "Okay, I'll do it."
Her boss smiled, satisfied. "Great. I'll make the arrangements. This is going to be a big opportunity for you, Marissa. I have a feeling you're going to knock it out of the park."

As Marissa made her way back to her desk, her mind was already racing with ideas for her coverage of the Challengers event. Despite the uncertainties that lay ahead, one thing was certain: this was her chance to prove herself as a journalist, to reconnect with her past, and to finally confront the ghosts that had been haunting her for so long.