Page 6

"You didn't have to come," Emily tells her cousin Emma as they walk toward court number five, which she was told via message is assigned for her training session that afternoon, "but I'm glad you did," she adds, squeezing her against herself. "Afterward we can go to dinner."

"I had to come. Someone needs to make sure you don't smack yourself in the face with a racket again," Emma jokes with a laugh.

She's still crying from laughter when she remembers the moment her cousin walked into her office the next day with a purple line crossing her face from her nose to her right eye to tell her what had happened the previous afternoon during her first disastrous training session. Emma laughed non-stop for ten minutes, and so did Emily.

"Don't make me laugh," Emily complains, "it pulls and makes my eye water," she says, touching her face.

She's wearing a bit of makeup, but even so, that darkened line on her right side is still visible.

"Look, here comes my instructor. Her name is Leah," Emily says when she sees the tennis player approaching the court from the other side, fluffing her shirt to let some air through.

"Damn, no wonder you signed up at this club. She's hot," Emma whistles under her breath.

"I didn't do it for that, dummy," Emily says, bumping her with her shoulder. "I didn't even know who would be training me, but yeah, she's hot and nice. I really liked her," she adds just before they both reach Leah.

"How are you, Emily?" the coach greets with a smile, narrowing her eyes as she observes her face.

"Very good, you can barely notice it," Emily says, touching her nose. "This is my cousin, Emma. She came because she doesn't trust me, in case she needs to take me to the hospital," she jokes, and Leah lets out a spontaneous little laugh before extending a hand toward Emma to greet her.

"I hope that won't be necessary," Leah says.

"Don't be so confident, my cousin's clumsiness knows no bounds," Emma replies, returning Leah's greeting. "Anyway, I'll wait for you over there," she adds, pointing to a wooden bench.

Leah turns to Emily and finds her opening her bag to take out her racket, as if her cousin's comment was the most natural thing.

"Well, I'm ready. Where do we start?" she asks excitedly.

"Okay, first..." Leah says, but stops and looks down. "Alright, first you need to tie the laces on your right shoe."

"Oh, wow, how absent-minded of me," Emily blushes and bends down to tie them as tight as she can. "I think they won't come undone now," she says playfully and stands up.

"Perfect," Leah says, twisting her lips in a contorted expression to contain her laughter. "Good, first is the grip," the tennis player continues, holding her racket firmly. "You need to hold it as if you were shaking someone's hand. Firm, but without strangling it. Let's see, try it."

Emily takes the racket and looks at it as if it were an alien object. Then she grips it so hard that her knuckles turn white.

"Like this?" she asks, looking at Leah.

"That's perfect if your plan is to kill someone with the racket," Leah comments, arching an eyebrow. "Loosen up a bit. It's not an iron bar, you just need to feel like you have a good hold on it, nothing more."

Emily loosens her grip and nods.

"Okay, now that we have the grip, let's move on to position," Leah says. "Place your feet apart, exactly shoulder-width, and bend your knees slightly. You need to be ready to move."

Leah positions herself as she explains, and Emily imitates her, but in the process, someone walks by the side of the court and she turns her head, which makes her lose her balance and nearly end up on the ground.

"Oh, God," she says and repositions herself under Leah's perplexed gaze.

"Look, Emily, you need to be focused. Forget about what's happening around you and concentrate on what I'm telling you."

Emily smiles and tries again, but she's gotten so close to Leah that she ends up stepping on her foot.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes, embarrassed, jerking away.

"It's okay, don't worry," Leah responds, wondering if she's ever had this much fun with anyone.

The answer is no, not even with Stella.

"My goodness, you're like a flamingo with a hangover," Emma calls out from the bench.

Leah has to turn around so Emily doesn't see her smile.

"Okay, let's continue," Leah says, more calmly. "Now we're going to try a forehand. Move the racket backward and then forward, it's like drawing an arc in the air."

Emily follows the instructions, but her movement is so forced that Leah feels like she's wielding a medieval sword.

"Like this?" she asks, enthusiastically.

Leah bites her lip and clears her throat.

"No, not like that. Let me show you."

The tennis player positions herself behind Emily as she's done dozens of times with other students, but this time is different. For an instant, both feel as if time freezes and the air becomes heavy, but they don't give it importance. Leah guides her arm gently, making sure the movement is more fluid.

"Like this," she explains, and Emily holds her breath when she feels Leah's voice like a whisper, "the movement has to be smooth," she adds before stepping away and leaving her alone.

After a couple of attempts, Emily finally manages a decent hit.

"Wow," she says excitedly, raising her racket as if she'd won a tournament.

After practicing the stroke for a while and sweating as if they'd been running for hours, Leah decides it's time to try some light rallying. She positions herself on the other side of the court and prepares to hit a soft ball.

"Just focus on returning it calmly. Don't try to do anything spectacular, just concentrate on hitting it well."

Emily nods, completely determined. She prepares, fixes her gaze on the ball that Leah hits to her... and lets it pass without even moving the racket because her attention wanders and she ends up watching the game on the adjacent court.

Leah looks at her, astonished.

"Emily!" the coach calls her attention.

"Oh, damn," she says and smiles with that spontaneous gesture that Leah finds so sincere.

"Were you planning to return it with your mind or what?" Leah asks, laughing.

"I'm sorry," Emily continues smiling. "I'll focus now."

"On me, Emily. I want you to always focus on me when you're here," Leah says.

The phrase is simple, and Emily understands clearly what Leah means, but her heart gives a small, unexpected flutter.

"Yes, okay," she says, picking up another ball.

"Damn, this is so entertaining I just need popcorn," Emma says, getting up from the bench to stretch her legs, standing near the fence.

Emily gets distracted again looking at her cousin, and Leah clears her throat.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Emily says, preparing to serve.

She concentrates and hits the ball, but does it so clumsily that she sends it at an impossible angle, where it bounces off the fence and returns toward them like a cursed missile. Leah dodges it by instinct and sighs with relief when she sees the ball pass far from Emily, certain that she wouldn't have avoided it.

Mia enters the court where Leah and Emily are training with her eyes fixed on her phone. She's answering a message from her brother. On Mondays, after having spent weekends together, they usually talk more than any other day because they both feel nostalgic. They don't handle the separation well, especially him, who wishes with all his heart to stay with his sister.

Mia is so focused on the conversation while walking that she doesn't see Emma's body and stumbles into her, nearly making her lose her balance.

"I'm sorry," Mia says, grabbing her arm just in time to prevent her from falling. "Did I hurt you?"

Emma, whose manners shine by their absence in moments like this, looks at her furiously while shaking her hand off.

"No, but you could watch where you're going. You almost knocked me down," she snaps abruptly.

Mia stands still for a moment while observing her. She's pretty, but just another snob, after all, another arrogant woman who thinks she's better than her just because her wallet is full of credit cards.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Emma inquires, as if expecting a bow.

"I've already apologized, I can't do more," Mia retorts and continues walking toward the back of the court.

Indignant, Emma follows her with her gaze and notices her body. She likes it; she has an athletic figure, and in the short time she's been able to observe her features, she's realized she's one of those girls who doesn't need to do anything to be attractive. Suddenly, she feels a gaze on her and turns toward Emily. Her cousin observes her with a furrowed brow, and Emma doesn't need her to say anything to imagine what she's thinking. "You're thirty years old, Emma, not fifteen. Stop behaving like a rude child."

She sighs and looks back at the girl, thinking she could approach her and apologize, and while at it, ask for her phone number to meet one of these days and display all her true charms, but then she sees her pick up a tube to collect balls and stands there openmouthed. Emma looks more closely and sees the girl wearing a maroon polo shirt with the club's logo. She's a worker whose job is limited to collecting balls; she can't ask for the number of someone like that. She turns abruptly and nibbles her lip with her teeth until she finds a piece of skin and tears it off while cursing herself for thinking that way, but she can't help it; appearances have always gotten the better of her.

"Well, I think for today it wasn't bad," Leah says when the training ends, approaching the net with Emily.

"At least I didn't make myself bleed," Emily sighs.

"You're not doing so badly, Emily," Leah encourages her. "Your problem is that you get distracted too easily. We have to work a lot on that, and on everything else, of course," she adds playfully.

"So, you don't consider me a lost cause?" Emily narrows her eyes.

"Of course not," Leah gives her a squeeze on the shoulder and points to the bench where their things are.

Emily feels a shiver run down her spine, but thinks it's from the gust of wind that just crossed the court, relieving their heat.

"See you Thursday then," Emily says.

"Sure," Leah smiles at her and heads toward the back of the court with Mia.

"What happened with that girl?" Emily asks her cousin.

"People here have no manners," Emma huffs. "Are we leaving? I'm hungry."

"Wait for me to change. You wouldn't want me to go out all sweaty," Emily says, grabbing her things to go to the locker room while her cousin takes out her phone and sits on the bench to wait for her.

Leah picks up another tube and helps Mia collect the remaining balls. She doesn't have more classes after Emily's, so she's free and feels like having a drink with her.

"Shall we go to the bar?" she suggests when they empty the tubes into the cart.

"Yes," Mia responds, fanning herself with her hand.

They arrive at the club's bar and sit on the terrace under one of the umbrellas.

"How was the class with the new girl?" Mia asks.

Leah can't help but have a smile cross her face.

"I've never seen anyone clumsier or more absent-minded than her, but she puts in effort, so for now, I'm going to focus on helping her return a ball without hurting herself. Later I'll see how to progress with her," she jokes, making Mia laugh.

"She seems like a fun person."

"She is," Leah responds. "She radiates an energy that I love, capable of lifting your spirits on a terrible day just by seeing her."

"Just the opposite of the girl who was with her as gorgeous as she is, she's just as idiotic" Mia says, twisting her expression.

Leah lets out a small laugh.

"I saw you had a little run-in. Her name is Emma, she's Emily's cousin."

"She could have inherited some of her friendliness."