𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 - 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘇 𝗕𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀

CHAPTER 13

𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬
-𝗟𝘆𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗘𝗿𝗶𝗸 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘇

I struggled to regain my composure, my mind swirling with conflicting emotions. I could hear my coach yelling, telling me to focus, but I couldn't shake the image of my father sitting in the stands, his sly smile still etched on his face.

I twisted my racket restlessly in my hand as I took position, waiting for my opponent to set the ball. Despite my best efforts to concentrate on the game, my gaze kept involuntarily drifting back towards the stands, where my father sat watching me, as if trying to pierce through me.

My opponent finally served the ball, and I snapped back to reality. I tried to push aside the distraction and focus on the game, but it was proving difficult. My usually steady hand trembled slightly as I took the shot, and it went wide, missing the court by a significant margin.

I heard a sigh of disappointment from the stands, and I knew my father had seen the mistake. I clenched my teeth and tried to refocus, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. The knowledge that my father was watching every move I made was weighing heavily on me, undermining my confidence and concentration.

My opponent seemed to sense my distraction and started to get more aggressive in their play. I felt like I was falling apart, my movements growing sloppier with each passing moment.

Despite my coach's continued encouragement and instruction, I couldn't seem to shake off the feeling of being watched and judged. Every mistake felt like a failure, and every missed shot an embarrassment in front of my father's critical gaze.

As the next set began, I set the ball with a determined expression. From the stands, I suddenly heard the voices of Lyle and Erik, their familiar tones cutting through the noise of the crowd.

"Come on, Alex!" they shouted, their voices blending together in a cacophony of encouragement. I couldn't help but notice that it was mostly Lyle's voice that stood out, loud and clear above Erik's. Maybe it was just because Lyle's voice carried better, or maybe it was because his support felt more significant in this moment. Nonetheless, I found solace in hearing their words. Lyle's And Erik's presence alone had a unique power to encourage and inspire, even in the most difficult circumstances. Taking a deep breath, I prepared to serve the ball, my mind now slightly calmer thanks to their supportive shouts.

I served the ball, putting all my strength into the shot. It zipped across the court and landed just inside the line, earning me a point. I stole a glance at the stands, and I saw Lyle and Erik standing up, cheering enthusiastically. Their support gave me a surge of energy, and for a moment, I forgot about my father's presence in the stands. I continued the set, my focus growing sharper with each point. Lyle and Erik's voices continued to ring out, urging me on and boosting my confidence. It was as if their presence in the crowd was channeling their support directly to me, pushing me to play harder and better.

I fought my way through the final set, determined to give my all. The score was tight, and I could feel the tension in the air. Every point felt crucial, every shot a chance to claim victory.

As the game reached its climax, I knew I had to make a bold move. With a quick flick of my wrist, I sent the ball sailing over the net, the trajectory curving in just the right way to make it impossible for my opponent to reach. The ball hit the ground, landing just inside the line, and the point was mine.

The referee signaled the end of the match, announcing my victory. A burst of applause and cheers erupted from the stands, including Lyle and Erik and my mother , who were both on their feet, whooping and yelling. I stood there, panting and exhausted, my chest heaving as the realization that I had won sunk in.