Page 55 of Game Point (Game, Set, and Match #2)

‘You always fucking choke, Dylan,’ she shouted from behind me. ‘And you’ll do it again.’

I headed out of the warm-up area, heading towards the showers, not bothering to look back at her, not wanting to give her any satisfaction. But as I stormed through the facility, ignoring everyone else around me, her words began to burrow under my skin.

What if she was right? I choked at Wimbledon. I choked in every single final. My track record was superb if you enjoyed falling at the last hurdle. And while I knew this was what she wanted, it wasn’t like I didn’t carry my own worries that I’d end up that way again.

Kicking open the door to the changing rooms, almost taking it off its hinges in the process, I threw my bag on the ground. Fear and anger clouding my judgement.

Where was Oliver?

I sat with my head held in my hands, trying to breathe through the feelings, using all those dumb methods they’d been teaching me for the past few weeks.

‘You look like shit.’ I looked up, finding the annoyingly warm sunshine gaze of Scottie Sinclair, her hand on her hip.

I frowned. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Don’t worry, your parents are safe. They’re still unloading all of your childhood trauma with Nico,’ she said. ‘Jon sent me back here to get ready. I’m playing Chloe Murphy next and I think he might be worried.’

‘He shouldn’t be.’ I looked across at her, shaking my head. ‘You’re the better player. You stand at least as good a chance.’

Confusion twisted across Scottie’s features, her lips pursing. ‘Wait.’

‘What?’ I asked.

She almost inspected me, her hand rising to my face, moving it around so she could get a good look. ‘Did you suffer a massive brain injury?’

‘No.’

‘No blunt force racket to the head?’ she added.

‘None I recall but if you are offering …’ I muttered under my breath.

‘You paid me a compliment, Dylan.’ She didn’t bother trying to hide the surprise in her voice.

‘I guess I did,’ I shrugged her off, not wanting to make a big song and dance about it. Scottie, however, had other plans.

‘Wow,’ she smirked, ‘I mean I know I’ve been trying to become friends but I never thought it would work so easily.’

I shot her a flat look, as I offered, ‘I can just as easily unfriend you.’

She put her hands up, sounding a little panicked as she said, ‘No! I like it! I’ll stop talking about it now, I swear.

’ I mumbled under my breath, almost regretting the decision to let her into my life.

Almost. Because somehow in mere minutes of conversation with her, I felt better than my entire time speaking with Avery.

‘Are you okay?’ Her shoulder nudged against mine. ‘You looked happy coming off court.’

‘I did.’

‘Well, you don’t look very happy about it now.’

‘I got into an argument. Avery, my friend …’ I said, an unusual wave of awkwardness washing over me. I swallowed, trying not to allow myself to doubt what she had said, and how it had made me feel. ‘She told me I was going to choke.’

‘That’s not very nice,’ Scottie remarked, her tone turning annoyed.

‘It didn’t feel very nice either.’ My shoulders pulled down as I thought back over everything she had said, how it all seemed to come out of nowhere.

But now, when I looked back, how long had she been something toxic in my life?

A well of negativity I kept drowning in.

‘She’s my oldest friend, but I don’t know.

Things feel different. Like, maybe for a long time she actually hasn’t been a very good friend at all. ’

Scottie took a moment, her blue eyes searching my face. ‘I know you’ve been working a lot with Oliver. You said before, you’ve been doing a lot of mental health work?’

I let out a single laugh. ‘He’s had me journaling .’

Scottie’s serious expression cracked with a bright smile, and I could’ve sworn the woman was made of sunshine. ‘And did it help?’

Reluctantly, I admitted, ‘Yeah, it did.’

‘And everything else he taught you?’ Scottie arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk wide on her lips. ‘I imagine there was a long talk about sharing your feelings instead of fuelling yourself on spite and vengeance alone?’

‘How did you guess?’ My shoulder nudged against hers as I laughed, the contact between us friendly and effortless. And I realized that friendship is not supposed to be hard work, and isn’t meant to leave me feeling like a battery on empty.

‘I remember it from my time in therapy,’ she said. ‘This feeling, her words, they will pass.’

I knew she was right. I had new methods to help, practices that helped feelings like this pass. And I had Oliver, I had his faith and confidence. And I … I loved him enough to trust his judgement. If he believed in me, then I could believe in myself.

As if she had read my mind, Scottie’s hand found mine, bringing my gaze to meet hers.

‘You’re not going to choke, Dylan. This is your hometown, your crowd.

’ She pressed unwavering confidence into her gaze.

Then, with a roll of her eyes, she added, ‘Not to mention you are playing like a beast. If I had to go up against you, with the form you’ve had?

I know I’d be the one throwing up in the locker room beforehand. ’

I laughed again, my head shaking as the last remainder of the anxiety was rushed away by the feeling of gratitude for new friends. We had a rocky past, and I’d done more to hurt her than she had ever deserved. But she’d forgiven me, and I’d changed. Evolved.

There was no more Dylan Bailey who didn’t believe in herself, who punished herself for screw-ups on the court that weren’t her fault. Who drove herself into the ground, forcing herself to be relentless.

‘I’ve got this,’ I said, the weakest smile on my lips as I looked over at her.

Her hand squeezed mine again. ‘Every time you start to feel this way, I want you to take a deep breath, let yourself truly believe it and keep your eyes on that goddamn trophy.’

And with another quick glance, I knew she was right. All that was left to do now was win.