For the Love of Tennis | ✅

Chapter 07

I am certain.

It’s strange how my opinion can change within a matter of hours. Just last night I was in tears over Dayson, certain that I’d never get over him, and now here I am digging the household bin.

The smell is putrid, hitting my nostrils in the same way missiles hit the earth. And yet I dig deeper, hands slipping in the rubbish, body shuddering as I touch something slimy and warm.

And then the tennis ball is in my hands.

I yank it out, triumphant. The number is still written on it; I wipe away the rotting pasta and leaking tea bags to see it clearer.

Call me x.

A kiss. All of a sudden, a smile crosses my face.

“Chandy.”

At the sound of my name, I straighten, thrusting my hands behind my back as my mother enters the kitchen. The lid of the bin clangs shut.

“Mrs Barnett just called,” she says. “I heard about this afternoon.”

I clench the tennis ball in my fist and glance at the white kitchen tiles.

“What happened between you and Megan?” Her voice is soft, and when I look up her eyes are only full of concern. I want to fill them with anger – where’s the anger?

“Why aren’t you angry?” I blurt out.

She seems surprised but then composes herself. “I am angry. What you did was terrible and completely inappropriate but right now, I’m asking you a question. What happened to you and Megan?”

There’s a brief silence. “Dayson,” is all I say.

She nods in understanding. “Meg was a lovely girl,” she says softly.

She’s right. Once upon a time, Megan and I had been close friends. Not best friends, but close enough to have a good laugh. We’d both admired Dayson, but he chose me and I chose him. And, in doing that, I lost my friend.

“Do you remember when she used to come here and teach me how to braid your hair?” Mum asks. Her eyes are full of the memory as she smiles. “She smiled a lot. Does she still smile like that now?”

Yeah, I think, but not at me. When she smiles at me, it’s only with malice.

“Yeah,” I say. “But Kylie’s better.”

“Of course,” my mother replies warmly but it lacks the same tone as when she talked of Megan. “Now.” She straightens herself and her eyes become hard. “I can’t let you off the hook, Chandy, not when you abused Megan like that. Yes, she may have been attacking you but two wrongs never make a right.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m confiscating your phone.”

A jot runs through me and I clench the tennis ball tighter. What of the boy? I was going to text him tonight.

“Wait,” I blurt out. “You can confiscate it, but I have something to do first. I have to… text Kylie.” I pause. “There was some… homework I had to ask about.”

Mum raises an eyebrow. “Fine, but I want your phone by ten.”

“Deal,” I say with a smile.

I wait for her to pass and settle herself in the comfort of the living room before making my way upstairs.

I grab my phone from the nightstand. Kylie’s face beams at me from the screen and I smile as I unlock it. Then, I type in the number and sit there, fingers hovering over the keyboard.