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13

Mac

As soon as Taylor nodded,twirling her racket in her right hand, Mac leapt into the air and launched her first serve. It landed perfectly in the back corner of the service box, getting more force on it than she meant to.

Taylor scrambled to reach it in time. When her racket made contact, it slammed the ball directly into the net.

Mac laughed as she walked back to the baseline. “Does mommy take it easy on you?”

From the other court, Beatriz shook her head. “That’s not how we play out here.”

Licking her lips, Taylor scoffed. “I just thought you might need more time. You seem to need more than most.”

Mac shook her head, not waiting to launch her next serve. But this time, Taylor was ready. She met the ball with ease, sending it soaring back to Mac flawlessly. Their rallies went off without a hitch from there. Each of them scored some good points but no one was keeping score.

Well… Mac was in her head. And by the looks of it, so was Babs.

When they finally called the end of practice, Mac was in the lead by two points. Taylor had slowed down with each serve, the surface on these courts harsher on the body than Taylor was used to.

Mac and Taylor came to the net, shaking hands.

Wiping sweat from her forehead, Mac lifted her chin. “Courts aren’t as cushy as your private play palace, huh?”

Taylor rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the practice.”

Mac nodded, her walls falling as Taylor’s exhausted eyes pierced hers. “You too.”

The locker room was lively after Taylor left, every player joking around.

“We all kept score. Mac beat her, no problem.” Jazz declared as she stepped onto one of the benches

Mac shook her head. “It was just practice.”

The crowd booed her before turning back to their business.

Beatriz slammed her locker closed as she changed into her regular clothes. “Are we going to Ginger’s for the pride event or what?”

Turning to look at her, Mac smiled. “Yeah, I’m down.” It would be enough time for Mac to go home and recover, do some research, and then head to Brooklyn.

A few hours later, Mac was jogging up the subway stairs in Park Slope. Dressed in a relaxed blue trouser and a black button down, Mac followed the street signs to Ginger’s.

From the outside, it was an unassuming bar. Like any other Irish pub, the place was only notable because of the pride flagshanging in the windows. Mac handed her I.D. to the bouncer sitting outside.

Using a flashlight, the bouncer did a double take as she looked up from the card to Mac’s face. “No way. Are you seriously Mackenzie Bennett?”

Mac’s forehead wrinkled. “Yeah, why?”

“Everyone watched your match last week. We had no idea one of our regulars was such a huge star.” The bouncer was giddy, reaching into her pocket for a scrap piece of paper. “Would you sign this for me?”

For a second, Mac forgot who she was. But she grabbed the pen and paper, quickly scrawling her name on the paper. “Thanks for watching.”

The bouncer nodded and pulled the door open for Mac.

A flood of queer music poured out of the bar, leaking out onto the street. Mac felt an eager smile taking over her face. It felt good to be home.

Crowding the bar, a group of Mac’s friends tried to flag down the bartender.

“Already causing problems?” Mac grabbed Jazz’s shoulder as she joined the crowd. Before any of them could answer, Mac whistled.