Page 34 of Everything About You

Typically, when someone says they’ll make it up to you, they might buy you a cup of coffee or offer to let your dog out. They

might do something small but generous and call it a day. And if we’re being a bit more cynical, most people might say they’re

going to make it up to you, and then do nothing at all.

When Rhodes Hamilton says he’ll make it up to you, apparently, he means he’ll use his connections to pull off something seemingly

impossible and so major it makes you want to pass out.

I had some suspicions about what we’d be doing when Rhodes advised us to wear athletic clothing, but something this cool never

even crossed my mind.

My feet are firmly planted on the red clay court of the Stade Roland Garros, where the French Open was played less than a

month ago. It’s absolutely massive and feels like a dream come true to be here, under the bright blue cloudless sky among

the sea of empty green seats that tower over the court. It’s a bit chilly for me, since Paris doesn’t get nearly as hot as

Florida in the summer months. Still, the day is gorgeous, and I know I’ll be warm as ever once we get to playing.

We’ve been picked up in a car and then escorted into the stadium by some PR person Rhodes knows.

Also, we’ve been given shoes to wear during our session, and Celeste and Noel are both taking photos and videos on their phones.

Noel forces me to take a photo, and I act like I’m cringed out to pose like some dorky fanboy, but really I’m excited to have this memory documented.

Me, standing beside the net with the magnificence of this famous stadium roaring behind me.

I might immediately send it to the Deuce Bags.

I’ve watched so many huge matches played at Roland Garros. I wasn’t even two years old yet, but I’ve rewatched the 2008 match

between Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer several times. I’ve rewatched plenty of Nadal matches here, actually, but apart from

that, Alcaraz versus Ramos-Vinolas was wild in 2022. All that time spent watching matches and it never occurred to me I’d

be here, not even a glimmer of a daydream when I’d found out I was going to be spending the summer in Paris. Why would I ever

end up here? How could I ever?

Leave it to Rhodes.

Celeste smacks me on the arm so hard I think she might be swatting a bug, but her eyes are big and when I follow her gaze,

I realize she’s watching Rhodes as he makes his way onto the court. He looks like he could be a tennis player, of course,

in white shorts that hug his thighs and a white polo that hugs his chest and biceps. He’s got a sweatband around his forehead

and sunglasses with blue-and-purple lenses.

When I see him, all those doubts from before are washed away. He has more than made up for missing dinner, and I think this goes to show it was as innocent as I’d have assumed without Noel’s little remark.

When I see him, in fact, I almost forget where I am. I almost want to run up to him and throw my arms around him, kissing

him like I haven’t seen him in ages. It’s only been less than a week, but there must be a reason they say absence makes the

heart grow fonder. All these days spent without the feeling of his hand in mine or his lips pressed to mine—I’m surprised

how much my heart absolutely swells at the sight of him.

“Good morning!” Rhodes has his signature charm on full display, with a huge grin and his arms open wide, racket extended from

his palm. “So glad you guys were able to make it.”

When he meets us at the net, I expect he’ll treat me like a friend or an acquaintance. It’s all so new, and there are some

staff members at the entrances of the court, plus Noel and Celeste are here. I imagine he’ll go for something quite conservative.

Instead, he pulls me in by my waist and kisses my cheek. “Hi, you.”

“Hi,” I say, wrapping my arm around him. He’s bringing out this bashful side of me that I wouldn’t have anticipated, but all

the day’s sunshine isn’t as bright as the feeling I get because he’s so happy to see me.

After our little greeting, which has left my cheeks hot and my heart racing, he takes a few steps forward before he stops

and pulls off his sunglasses. His grin extends when his eyes land on Celeste. “A gorgeous blonde—you must be Celeste.”

She’s blushing like a schoolgirl, and she glances down at her feet before pulling some hair behind her ears. “Thank you for having us. This is beyond amazing.”

“ Absolument ,” Rhodes chirps. He places the racket under his arm and claps his hands together, gesturing toward Noel now. “And you must

be Noel.” He offers a cheekier smile. “I hear we’ve got a bit of a difference in opinion when it comes to football.”

“Luckily today we’re focusing on tennis,” Noel says, a bit less gruff than usual, with a put-on smile that almost makes me

break into laughter.

Rhodes doesn’t know the difference, though, and just nods. “Of course.”

“Thanks for having us.” Noel echoes Celeste and shakes Rhodes’s hand when he approaches him with his palm extended. “This

is a very kind gesture.”

“I’m happy to meet two of the most important people in Milo’s life,” he says. It’s a bit cheesy and a bit cringe, except for

the fact that I really believe it’s sincere. “I figured a little private session here would make up for how I so rudely missed

our dinner. And I do apologize for that. It was unavoidable.”

“We understand,” Celeste says. She’s practically flirting, but it’s a bit entertaining. Innocent, really, like a little girl

meeting one of the princes at Disney World. “You and Milo are both so busy with Maison Dauphine.”

Noel nods. “Saving the world one dress at a time.”

“Shut up,” I say, punching him in the arm.

Rhodes barks a laugh. “One dress at a time.”

“It really is cool,” Noel says. “I was only kidding.”

“Hilarious,” I say. I decide to shift the focus. “I can’t believe we’re here. At Roland Garros. I think this is probably one of the most famous stadiums in the whole world, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

Celeste wiggles her foot on the ground. “The clay is interesting.”

“In the 1800s, they used terracotta to cover grass courts,” I say.

Celeste smiles. “Did you know Milo likes to research?”

“A lot,” Noel adds.

“It’s good for joints.” I ignore them. “The clay is easier on the knees than other surfaces.”

Rhodes smiles. “The more you know.”

“But I hardly play on clay,” I say. “Or played , I guess. Mostly hard courts.”

Turning over the tennis racket in her palm, Celeste pinches her brows together. “Is that bad?”

“It just means I won’t be as good,” I say.

“I’m sure you’ll be brilliant.” Gripping his racket and scoping out the court, Rhodes draws in a breath. “All right. So we’ll

play doubles. How would you all like to split up?”

“Milo, you have to play on my side,” Celeste says. She grabs my arm and pulls me over to her, my foot dragging along the clay.

“I have literally no skill.”

Noel frowns. “Well then.”

“Sorry.” Celeste laughs. “But I stand by my decision. Now if it were soccer...”

Rhodes pats Noel on the shoulder. “Then it’s me and you, mate.” He points to me. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”

I laugh. “Thank you.”

We set up on the court, and a sense of confidence washes over me.

There’s something reflexive about it. I’m in my domain, in a way, even if it’s on a particularly intimidating court.

The stands are empty, so the pressure is lower.

In fact, I’m feeling excited about the audience I do have.

Noel and Celeste might not be too surprised by my game, but I expect Rhodes will be really impressed once he sees how I play.

I certainly don’t expect to play with topspin like Rafa, but I might be able to experiment a bit with the clay court once

I get a handle on it. Maybe I’ll have some flourish in my slide or pull off a killer slice.

We’re playing with a standard doubles formation, with Rhodes and me at the baselines, and Noel and Celeste diagonal from each

other at the nets. I know I’ve got a mean serve, so I figure this is a good way to start, and if it gets to be too much for

Rhodes and Noel, we can just switch up the formation. I want it to be fun, after all, so I don’t want to completely dominate

and not have any volley action.

When we start, I’m first to serve, and Noel is set to return.

With my feet firmly on the ground, I toss the ball up with my left hand. My right foot drags up a bit, and then I’m on my

tiptoes before bounding into the air and slamming the racket down onto the ball. The blur of neon green speeds past Noel,

and I realize I’ve put way too much power behind my initial serve as Rhodes’s eyes dart toward it.

For the next point, I try to hold back a bit on the power, but it’s still got a solid backing to it. Noel doesn’t even attempt

to return the ball, and it seems Rhodes is resigned as well.

But it doesn’t get by him. Rhodes leaps over and hits it back. His racket meets the ball with an impressive precision, like it is truly an extension of his arm, and it flies right at Celeste, who jumps out of the way.

I’m so shocked he got it back to us that I’m a nanosecond too late to return it, and they gain the point.

Noel and Celeste exchange glances and a single shallow breath passes through my lips in a quiet exhale.

“Fifteen-fifteen,” Rhodes says, beaming.

“That was great!” I shout.

I guess it’s not outside the realm of possibilities, since he comes from a super-athletic family, that Rhodes will have some

sort of genetic predisposition to excelling at whatever sport he tries. That’s a good thing, though. It’ll keep things interesting.

This time when I serve, I catch myself feeling a bit rattled. It’s a slight change in perception that affects my timing in

the slightest way, but not knowing I’m about to dominate makes me second-guess where I’ll place the ball on their side and just how much power I should utilize.