The Damned Tennis Racket

Prologue

Summer.

A single word that makes me very thrilled. Oh, summer, you don't know how much I love you. This summer, nothing is going to hold me back. No school. Sleepovers. Tanning. Beaches. Water fights. Tank tops. Flip flops. Lemonade. Summer romances. Sunglasses. Taking pictures. Late nights. Bikinis. Ice cream. Memories. Warm air. Camps. Short shorts. Sleeping in. Summer breeze. Tan lines. Belly tops. Sand castles. Long hair. Mud fights. Bonfires. Slushies. Pool parties. Sun kissed hair. Palm trees. Barbeques. Blue skies. Hot guys. Concert. All in just one season, summer.

I munched on some protein bars at the living room watching The Vampire Diaries re-runs. Thankfully, it’s the last week of school, and after that I could spend my whole summer with my best friends, Lianne and Max. We’ve been planning how to spend and enjoy our summer since last year. I wouldn’t deny how excited we are, since my last summer, was spent on attending a crappy dance and singing lessons which my mother instructed me to do. She said it was part of the beauty queen preparation.

So you see, my mom was once a beauty queen, she won the biggest and largest beauty pageant of America. My mom, is the epitome of class, grace, strength and beauty. Well, after winning the title, her fame skyrocketed immediately. People adored and loved her, her face pasted in every beauty and fashion magazines, became an ambassador for women’s rights, filmed and promoted commercials from cosmetics to dog food, designer, a fashion icon and oh, she became an actress too. All of those vanished in a night. A party. She got preggo. She told me, she did not have the chance to meet my father, because she was awfully drunk. Well, that’s what she told me. So when she had me, she hid. Away from the judging eyes of the people, away from everyone.

“Daniella, honey.”  My mother called, she was in the kitchen making her favorite herbal lilac tea. I walked over to her and grabbed a cup of the hot tea. “Yes mom?” I called. My mom is in her 40’s and is still dazzling as ever. Her wavy blonde hair tied up in a loose ponytail, gray orbs glistening watching me intently and spoke:

“Elle, I’m going to send you to your Uncle Rob’s Tennis Camp this summer.” That’s when she dropped the bomb. I stopped sipping my tea and looked at her trying to decipher whether she’s kidding or not. And it hit me. She’s not joking, at all.

“What?” I exclaimed. I made her repeat it at least 6 times before it sank in. No, not again. Not this time. My summer. Sleepovers. Tanning. Beaches. Water fights. Tank tops. Flip flops. Lemonade. Summer romances. Sunglasses. Taking pictures. Late nights. Bikinis. Ice cream. Memories. Warm air. Camps. Short shorts. Sleeping in. Summer breeze. Tan lines. Belly tops. Sand castles long hair. Mud fights. Bonfires. Slushies. Pool parties. Sun kissed hair. Palm trees. Barbeques. Blue skies. Hot guys. Concert. All gone.