Page 54 of Game Point (Game, Set, and Match #2)

‘Definitely,’ she nodded, her gaze elsewhere, looking around the room. ‘But you wouldn’t want to get too comfortable, you know, at this level.’

I gritted my teeth, shooting her a look as if to say, ‘ what is that supposed to mean? ’ But I swallowed it down instead, knowing she’d made the effort to come to my match, see me play. She was trying to be helpful. Somehow.

We reached the cool-down zone, other players and coaches filling up the room. I scanned around looking for any trace of Oliver. I was worried. It wasn’t like him to disappear like this.

Avery let out a long whistle as she took in the area. ‘Wow, the facilities here are really cool.’ My eyes scanned around the modern area, acknowledging for the first time in a while how lucky I was to have access to spaces like this.

I hummed in agreement, thinking of our old club. ‘Much nicer than the ones we had.’

‘But hey, you deserve it.’ Avery looked at me, something in her expression unreadable. ‘You’ve always been the lucky one,’ she sighed, stepping ahead, almost leading me forward into the area. Her eyes went wide, taking in the faces around the space.

‘Oh wow, that’s Jasmine Carter!’ she squealed, turning to face the player who was warming up, readying herself for her own match. ‘Do you know her?’

‘I’ve played her,’ I nodded.

‘Oh yeah, she beat you at Wimbledon,’ Avery said carelessly.

I paused, blinking as if she hadn’t really said that.

‘Yep,’ I replied bitterly. ‘Thanks for the reminder.’

‘It’s true.’ Her tone was defensive. And then, almost in the same breath, she asked, ‘Can you introduce me to her?’

‘Um …’ I trailed off, looking over again at Jasmine who was talking to her coach. I knew she had a match coming soon, and decided against it. ‘She looks like she’s trying to get in the zone, I don’t think we should interrupt.’

‘I think it would be fine. It’s not like she’s playing.’

Before I even had a chance to reply, Avery began to move towards Jasmine and I only just managed to grab her arm. ‘No, seriously, leave her alone. She’s preparing to play.’

‘It will be fine, Dylan,’ Avery sneered. ‘I know what this is like.’

‘No, you don’t,’ I pressed. The words slipped out beyond my control, but I meant every single one.

She walked around here like she knew this place, like this was her turf.

She criticized me on court and tried to tell me how to improve my gameplay when she hadn’t played competitively at any level for almost ten years.

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Her eyes narrowed on me, but I didn’t back down, rage boiling in my veins.

‘You never played professionally,’ I said, pointing out the obvious. ‘I’m sorry about that but this is different from what you know. It’s serious here, we don’t fuck with somebody else before a match.’

‘I’m not serious?’ she said, twisting my words. ‘What exactly is your problem?’

‘I don’t have a problem with you. I don’t want you to get in anyone’s way,’ I said, lowering my tone as somebody passed us. In the corner of my eye, Jasmine Carter moved past us and my heart stopped in my chest, wondering if she’d overheard our conversation.

Avery stopped too, her eyes tracking the player out of the room. Her attention turned back to me, her arm pulling out of my grip. ‘Well look, now I’ve missed her.’

I shook my head. ‘She has a big match, it’s for the best.’

She tsked. ‘You know, sometimes I wonder how things would be different if I was the one that had turned pro.’

‘What?’ I said in shock, trying to figure out where all of this had come from. All I’d done was stop her from going to disrupt another player.

‘You’re an embarrassment, Dylan. Honestly,’ she struck out, trying to hurt me.

But she missed, her anger incorrectly aimed.

Normally, she could make me feel like shit, remind me of everything she’d missed out on, tell me I was doing it for the both of us.

But now? She had to see this wasn’t my fault.

‘What the hell is your problem?’ I asked, my teeth gritted. I could feel the eyes in the room focusing on us, this argument all too public.

‘My problem?’ she spat. ‘I’ve had to sit here, see you living out my dream, and I’m forced to watch you waste it.’

My jaw locked at her words, at her thinly veiled insult. I tried to remain strong, trying to find the spark of anger that would normally rage against this kind of behaviour. But instead, I found a fault ignition, doused by the fact this was my oldest friend saying these things.

I inhaled deeply. ‘You don’t know anything about what it is like to play at this level, Avery.

The pressure out on that court, even back here.

It’s crushing.’ I wiped a hand at my brow; it was still sweaty from the match.

I wanted to shower, to cool down and relax, not get into a big fight. I needed Oliver.

‘Why did you even take me back here? Did you want to show off? Rub it in my face?’ Avery said, raising her voice again. More eyes directed on us, a burning gaze of intrigue and annoyance at our argument.

‘You asked to come here!’ I hissed, keeping my voice quiet, running out of patience. She was trying to make herself the victim, and I was too tired to pretend like I didn’t care. Then, I remembered Mum’s words, when we visited them, her version of Avery’s crash.

‘ She recovered, didn’t she? Fully, from what I remember. Next time you talk to her, ask her. ’

My own eyes narrowed in on Avery, pushing back at her as I cracked and asked, ‘What even happened? With your injury?’

There was a flash of dread across her face, her mouth opening in shock.

‘W-what do you mean?’ she stuttered, searching for words. ‘I was in that crash.’

‘What happened after?’ I pressed. Years had passed and I felt like I didn’t know the full story.

She’d spent years throwing it in my face, telling me I was the lucky one, listening to her pull me apart even when I was already at my lowest. And now with my mum’s words ringing in my head, with Avery’s own jabs still stinging, I dug.

‘Don’t turn this on me,’ she said, her defences going straight up. ‘You think you have it so tough. With your sponsors and your first-class travel, your fancy matches and hotels. But you never ask about me. How I’m doing. You don’t care about me.’

‘Of course I do,’ I snapped back. ‘You’re trying to change the subject, but I care about you, Avery, I do.’

‘You don’t act like it,’ she said with a gasp, flicking her hair over her shoulder before defensively crossing her arms over her chest.

‘I’m sorry I’m distant, Avery. I really am.

It’s hard sometimes, to want to call back home, and you are the one to make that effort,’ I said, trying to meet her halfway.

But there was something there, and maybe it was just a half truth, but she didn’t get to keep talking to me like shit and then throw her injury in my face.

With a deep breath, I went back to my original question.

‘After the car crash, after your injury. What happ—’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Dylan,’ she cut me off, eyes narrowed. ‘Of course I didn’t quit because of the fucking injury. It was you .’

I barely blinked as I tried to comprehend her words. ‘Me?’

‘Don’t pretend like you don’t know how much I struggled when you left. You abandoned me.’

I shook my head. She was trying to hurt me, turning it back on me. But I was too desperate for the truth now.

I kept my voice level. ‘I kept in contact. I talked about you constantly to Imogen, trying to get her to give you a shot. Then, when we came back, you weren’t playing anymore. You said rehab had stopped, you couldn’t play. Was that even true? Did rehab fail … or did you quit?’

‘Do you know what it’s like to be the one that everyone forgets about?

I had to watch you get picked over me, every single time.

We were a team. We trained together, played together, travelled together.

And at the first opportunity, you cut and run.

You should’ve stayed, helped me get better.

If you had, God knows, maybe I could be the one playing alongside Scottie and Jasmine.

But no, instead I have to watch you. ’ She tried once more to make me feel sorry for her.

But I was already done. I’d held onto her friendship for too long, telling myself I needed her, this link to home.

But all along she’d been pulling me down with her, constantly drowning me in her negativity.

‘I had a career, Avery. I did not cut and run.’

‘Besides, you aren’t better than me,’ she sneered, her eyes narrowing, her voice low. ‘I mean, fucking your coach. Really Dylan? What will people say?’

I stuttered, struggling for a reaction, for anything to say, but I was already shocked from everything that I didn’t have the words for. How did she know about Oliver?

‘Don’t even try to deny it. It’s clear enough from your face,’ she added. ‘And I had to sit there and watch him fuss around watching you play. A man in love. It’s obvious.’

‘It’s not …’ I trailed off, the denial sticking on my tongue. It’s not love. But if it’s not love, then what is it? What else is Oliver to me but love? I pulled myself together, desperate for this to be over.

‘I can see the news headlines,’ Avery’s face twisted. ‘And I wonder how much somebody would pay for that information.’

Dread filled me, chilling me right down to the bones. She wouldn’t do that, right? Not to her oldest friend? But as it was turning out, I never knew her very well to begin with.

Inhaling, I found my grit, my determination. Even after a hard match, I had to find it.

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I ground out, my hands curling into fists.

‘I think I hit close enough to the mark.’

‘If you think you can threaten me like that, you know me as well as I know you.’ I shook my head, taking a step away from her, seeing the end of this friendship. ‘Don’t contact me again. Don’t call my parents. Just stay out of my life.’