Love, Set, Match

five

𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟼

The tennis court was buzzing with excitement as the end-of-season party carried on. The night sky was clear, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a rhythmic background to the murmur of conversations and the occasional bursts of laughter.

Marissa stood near the edge of the court, drink in hand, watching the group that had gathered around Tashi. Her cousin was holding court, as always, with her easy charm and natural charisma. Marissa took a sip, the cool liquid doing little to quell the simmering irritation she felt.

Art and Patrick approached, breaking the spell of her thoughts.

"Hey!" Art greeted, his voice cutting through the noise.

"Hi!" Patrick added, his eyes scanning the crowd before landing on Tashi.

Tashi, catching sight of them, gave a nod. "Hi. You guys are still here."

Art grinned. "Great party!"

"Uhhuh, yeah," Patrick mumbled in agreement.

"Thank you." Tashi clicked her tongue, an unspoken challenge in her eyes. "Um, don't you guys have a final? Shouldn't you be, like, um, preparing or something?"

Art waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, it's just the juniors. I think we both know how it's gonna go."

Tashi chuckled, a sound that always managed to irritate Marissa. "Okay, well, um, it's cool that you stayed."

Art leaned in, lowering his voice. "Yeah. I actually wanted..."

"Yeah?" Tashi prompted.

"...to ask you about that point earlier."

Patrick, sensing a lull in the conversation, interjected. "Hey, do you smoke?"

Tashi raised an eyebrow. "Cigarettes?"

"Yeah."

"No. Do you?"

"Yeah."

Art, clearly wanting to avoid the smoking topic, suggested, "Want to go down to the beach?"

Tashi shrugged. "Sure."

As they walked, Patrick looked around at the lavish surroundings. "This place is ridiculous, isn't it?"

"What do you mean? It's nice," Tashi replied, a hint of defensiveness in her tone.

"It's like a castle. Like, they wanna be feudal lords or something."

Tashi shot him a sidelong glance. "Oh, and what does your parents' place look like? Exactly."

Patrick hesitated. "Not like this."

Art smirked. "No, it's bigger."

Patrick shrugged, conceding. "No. I mean, yeah, technically it is. Yeah."

They continued down the path, the sound of the ocean growing louder. Patrick, clearly wanting to steer the conversation, brought up a topic that had been on his mind. "So, I have to ask you about this Stanford thing."

Tashi rolled her eyes. "Okay."

"What's the angle? Why do you want to go beat up on a bunch of girls who were the best players at their high schools?"

Tashi's expression softened slightly. "You know, they offer classes in college. I don't want my only skill in life to be hitting a ball with a racket."

Patrick nodded, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "I get it. You're making us wait for you. The 18-year-old tennis phenomenon who cares about her education."

Tashi narrowed her eyes. "Is this why you came to my party?"

Patrick laughed, holding up his hands. "It's brilliant. Seriously. I can already see the Adidas campaign."

Tashi snorted. "And when are you going pro?"

"Soon as I can. Hitting a ball with a racket is a great way to avoid having a job."

Tashi shook her head. "Well, that's also your problem. 'Cause you think that tennis is about expressing yourself, doing your thing. That's why you still have that serve."

"It works."

"Yeah, but you're not a tennis player. You don't know what tennis is."

Patrick's interest piqued. "What is it?"

Marissa, who had been silent up until now, found herself agreeing with Tashi for once. "It's a relationship. That's what her and Anna Mueller had today."

Tashi nodded, her expression serious. "It is, actually. For about 15 seconds there, we were actually playing tennis, and we understood each other completely. So did everyone watching. It was like we were in love. Or like we didn't exist. We went somewhere really beautiful together."

Art, who had been listening intently, spoke up. "You screamed. When you hit the winner. Never heard anything like it before."

Tashi glanced at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "I should go before my dad comes looking for me. I'll see you at school, Art."

Patrick, not wanting the conversation to end, asked, "Wait, are you on Facebook?"

Tashi frowned. "What?"

Art smirked. "He's asking for your number. And so am I."

Tashi raised an eyebrow. "You both want my number?"

"Very much so, yeah," Art confirmed.

Patrick nodded. "Yeah."

Tashi chuckled, shaking her head. "Okay, well, I'm not a homewrecker."

Art quickly clarified. "We don't live together. It's an open relationship. Also, Patrick has a girlfriend."

Patrick protested. "I do not. Hey, come hang out with us later."

"They put you up at the hotel in Flushing, right?"

"We're in Room 206."

Tashi laughed, a genuine sound this time. "Want me to come tuck you in?"

Patrick grinned. "No. We just keep talking... About tennis."

"Good night."

Patrick made one last effort. "We have beer."

Tashi's laughter echoed as she walked away. "Okay."

Marissa, watching the interaction, felt a twinge of jealousy at how openly Patrick flirted with Tashi. She and Patrick had always had a flirtatious relationship but were never a couple. She kept her thoughts to herself, her eyes following Tashi's retreating figure, wondering if things would ever change between them.