𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄, 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄, 𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘. - 𝐀.𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐒𝐎𝐍

STANCE, SERVE, RALLY - Nine.

"Got your eye on Donaldson, Flores?" A blonde - Beatrice George - intrigued, turned to Alaska in the girls changing room at tennis practice.

Alaska wasn't friends with Beatrice or any of the other girls in her practice for a fact - it was only Tashi, and that was because Alaska saw her as her match - the one person she felt actually challenged playing against.

And she liked that. That Tashi wasn't afraid to fight dirty - even though at times, she wondered if her friend would ever inflict pain on her opponent deliberately, just because she could.

"What?" Alaska turned while peeling off her shirt, now dampened with sweat - left in her sports bra, she furrowed her eyebrows.

The girls at practice loved to gossip. They'd constantly recoup after the session had finished and tell each-other which boys on different academy tennis teams they'd hooked up with.

But Alaska was confused. Her and Art had only hung out twice - once at the hotel, which was intimate with just her, Art, Tashi and Patrick - and the second time being when she smuggled him into her gardens to play tennis late at night.

Both relatively private. The rest of the times they'd been spotted in the same vicinity of eachother was during practices, where that was normal.

And even when they practiced, even though they'd started partnering up occasionally so Tashi and Patrick could eye-fuck eachother over the net, it wasn't obvious at all that Art and Alaska were anything more than acquaintances.

Which they were, so that wasn't a lie.

Just acquaintances that got a little too touchy on each-others bodies. One time...

"-Yeah, Helena said she saw you and Art at the beach one time," She smugly grinned, resting against the wall as she peeled off her socks, tossing them into her duffle bag, "-She said you guys were very close."

Alaska had to stop herself from crumpling to the floor and wailing in embarrassment. She maintained her cool composure.

Shit, she thought - internally kicking herself - Of course it had to have been the fucking beach they'd get spotted.

Just Alaskas luck.

The first time she properly hooks up with a guy beyond a kiss, and somehow someone she knows has to stumble upon it.

She rummaged around in her duffle bag nervously - grabbing the bundle of fresh clothing quickly.

"I think you've got the wrong girl, Bea."

Alaska laughed, however it was stale - evident anxious laughter that shelled into emptiness, as Alaska was shitting herself in reality.

"No, I don't think so..." She shook her head, playing dumb by shrugging, "She was pretty adamant it was you."

Alaska scoffed, turning her back to the girl to sit on the changing room bench so she could pull on her casual trainers.

"My parents would kill me if I dated, you all know that." Alaska exhaled, "I'm not stupid - and I especially wouldn't take the risk with Donaldson."

She may have been a little harsh with the last fraction of the sentence. But it was too late to withdraw her statement.

Beatrice laughed bitterly, it appeared she still didn't believe Alaska at all, but she decided to back off anyways.

"Fine." She submitted, now fully dressed in her own casual clothing as she pulled her pink duffle bag over her shoulder, "I'm pretty sure he's fucking Olivia now, anyways."