For the Love of Tennis | ✅

Chapter 29

I wake up the next day to a pounding headache and my head full of Amias.

I had a dream about him. We were in a cornfield, the sun shining through the stems, illuminating my hair. And then he took me in his arms, and his lips tasted of sunlight.

My room is bathed in morning light that steams through the curtain. I groan, turning round, but the dream is wearing off.

Then it hits me.

Amias will be visiting today.

That makes me jerk awake. I almost fly from the bed, yanking the phone from its charger and almost throwing the lamp from the beside in the process.

I have a text from him.

What time?

And are you sure your mum agrees?

I smile and bound down the stairs to where Mum is fixing her hair.

“Yes, rabbit?” she asks sarcastically, turning round from the mirror.

“Amias is coming to visit today,” I splutter. “He’s coming over! You’re going to meet him!”

“Is he?”

“Yes!” I almost trip over a chair in my haste to get to her. “Please say yes!”

She looks confused. “Yes?”

“Yes!” I yell, throwing my fist in the air.

“And why are you so excited? What’s the big deal?”

“He’s coming here,” I squeal. “And he’ll meet you.”

Mum gives me a wary, worried look before turning back to applying her lipstick.

“What time?” she mumbles through a mouthful of Dior.

“Lunch?”

“’Kay.”

I run to my room, texting Amias on the way. His reply arrives a minute later, confirming he can come.

Then I get changed and wait.

***

The bees are back. It’s like that first time he kissed me. There were bees crawling through my skin, and I felt alive.

I look at my reflection for the umpteenth time. I tried to replicate the same look Mum gave me at Kylie’s party. My hand was so shaky with the eyeliner that I had to redo it countless times, but now it’s shaped to perfection.

I’m counting down the seconds to twelve pm.

My mind wanders off as I wait. What will Mum think of Amias? Will she think he’s a good addition to the family? And what about his situation? Will she freak out when she realises who he’s working for?

With every fibre of my being I hope not. If anything turns bad I need to jump in with an explanation.

I need to make it clear in her head that he isn’t the monster people say he is.

I think about Gabe and Kylie. I wonder if she’s told him. How he’s reacted. Knowing her, she’ll get it done relatively early in the morning because she won’t want a weight like that burdening her the entire day. I hope that he doesn’t react badly.

I hope for a lot of things.

Curious, I text Kylie the situation.

Ooh! she replies. Your Mum will love him. And I’m telling Gabe right now.

I have no time to write a reply because:

Ding dong.

My heart throbs in my throat.

“I’ll get it!” I find myself shouting, slipping my phone into my back pocket.

My hands are slippery as I walk down the staircase, but rubbing them in my jeans doesn’t help.

Taking in a shaky breath, I open the door.

“Hello,” says Amias with a grin.

He’s wearing a crisp blue and white chequered shirt that neatly tucks into boyish shorts. His eyes are golden, cheekbones high, jaw angular. He’s the same as ever, I tell myself, but to my eyes he looks ten times more handsome.

And that’s not the only thing. In his hands he holds a bouquet of red roses.

“For you,” he says, handing them over. “They smell better than you, by the way.”

“Sure,” I shoot back. Then, jokes aside, I take them in my hands and the sweet smell wafts to my nose. “Thank you so much.”

“Anytime, honestly.”

“Chandy?” my mother calls from inside. “Is he here yet?”

I take Amias’ hand and lead him through the hallway and to the kitchen. She’s cutting up vegetables, head turned down in concentration.

“Mum, this is Amias. Amias, this is Mum.”

Then Mum looks up. She registers Amias, a smile on her lips. Then something in her eyes flash and her smile begins to fade.

And then she screams.

It’s something that shakes me to the very core.

“Take him out!” Mum is yelling, cowering away from the table.

I glance at her in horror, then at Amias, who is glaring at the floor.

“What!” I snap. “What?”

“He,” Mum begins, swallowing hard. “He’s...”

“Yes?” I demand, gripping Amias’ hand tighter.

“He’s the boy,” Mum croaks out. “He’s the one who broke my elbow.”