Matchpoint

Chapter 7:

The ball flies through the air, like a single bullet shot from the barrel of a gun. The air around the ball seems to curve, as if not even the particles in our atmosphere can touch a single fibre on the ball.

As it screams towards me, I can feel the pumping of my blood through my veins pulsing in my ear. My breathing becomes deep, slow, and heavy, as if a weight of some sort has been strapped against me.

I poise my arm. The veins in my forearm are sticking out whilst the sweat glistens against my skin. It's not a pretty picture, but at least it shows how hard I work.

I allow the ball to slam against my racket, and I feel the vibrations ripple through the strings and up my arm.

The ball doesn't exactly travel to where I wanted it to go. My racket must have been slightly off centre, and now the ball is going to land right before my contender. Before they even hit the ball, I know I'm a done deal. They've got one over me, and that is clear. This is the thing about tennis, if you look closely, you always know when you're about to lose a point, you can just see it in those forest green eyes.

It bounces once in my court, on the far left side of my body, just where I thought he would go. Except I don't chase it, I let it bounce and watch as his eyes widen in curiosity.

"What, you too exhausted or something?" Dom's voice cuts across the court just as fast as the ball had.

"Nope, I just conceded the point because it's easier to lose the point, save energy for the next set, and not risk pushing too hard." I state, warming my body up by jumping from foot to foot.

"That's the point of tennis, is pushing your limits." Dom snaps back, his body moving towards the net as he speaks.

My eyes wander over to Ladley, who is standing on the sideline, a notepad and pen in hand as she jots down very little notes.

"I'm not here to push my limits." For some reason, I am compelled to match his actions, and suddenly we're both walking towards the net.

"But you're here to push mine, so can you at least try to give me some good hits." There he is, the uptight dick I knew he was.

"I am giving you hits, so quit whining, I pushed you, I knew there was no point going after it, so I didn't. You did what I wanted you to, and that's all I needed to see." I state, flipping my racket in my hands as I turn and walk back towards the baseline. "Now, let's go again."

I turn, facing Dom, and the piercing glare he is shooting at me from across the court. He flips his racket, releases a frustrated sigh, and squats down into his starting position. As he does so, he sways from left to right, grabs his hat, turns it backwards, and nods once.

The ball soars across the court, and I watch it as it lands perfectly. Except Dom doesn't react, he simply watches it land, casts his eyes across the court at me, and shrugs.

Something in my stomach sinks, and not to mention how casually he strolls off and grabs a drink. Without masking my frustration, I turn to Ladley and throw my hands up in annoyance. Ladley shrugs dismissively and walks over to Dom, her notebook in hand as she runs him through a few things.

My blood boils, no, not just boils, it's bursting within me. I walk to my bag and grab my bottle, taking a long swig and letting the cool water stream through my body and bringing relief to the heat that is burning within me.

Dom's eyes flicker over to me as he and Ladley walk back towards the baseline, and she seems to be mentioning something about his beginning standpoint, the way he body slightly twists. I notice it too, as if he's never quite front on with his positioning.