X
I stood looking at my phone, waiting for that beep, but minutes passed and it didn't come. I hoped she wasn't ignoring me? I wondered how many times I had passed her in the corridor today. There was something quite cool about that thought, she knew who I was, but I didn't know who she was. I wondered if she had watched me today at all.
Still no message, so I slipped it back into my shorts and picked up where I left off. Each serve was getting better and better, their consistency and placement. And by the time I had collected all the balls for the second time, I decided that I was confident enough to leave. As I grabbed my bag and started walking out the gate, my phone beeped. I grabbed it out of my pocket and slid my finer across the screen -
Hey son, Just wanted to say that I'll see you at your match tomorrow. I know you're going to be great. And then maybe after we can go out for dinner? I would really like to chat to you. Love Dad
I wanted to get sick. This was the first time he'd spoken to me since he'd apparently moved out a few days ago. "Moved out", aren't you supposed to know when one of your parents has moved out? They're not supposed to just NOT come home. Fuck him! I didn't want him there and I was not going for dinner with him. He didn't even deserve a reply, so I shoved the phone back into my pocket. But when it beeped seconds later, I ripped it out ready to let lose and let him know exactly how I felt, but....
From: [email protected]
Subject: Lucky charm accepts
Message: Of course I'll be there.
Thoughts of my father faded away instantly.
Subject: Lucky man
Message: So if I win, do I get a prize?
From: [email protected]
Subject: A prize...
Message: What kind of prize were you hoping for?
Subject: Dinner!
Message: Let me take you out to dinner afterwards.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Don't push your luck
I smiled. I kind of knew she was going to say that. But I wasn't going to let up, I was going to make her agree to meet me, come hell or high water.
Subject: Meet me in Paris?
Message: I want to dance with you under the Eiffel tower.
Subject: Cryptic?
Message: Is that a riddle?
Subject: Ah-HA
Message: Okay, so I know you're not on the school dance committee, or else you would have got that. (French themed dance, remember?) I'm starting to narrow it down now, maybe I'll find you sooner rather than later! X
There was a silence and I waited for a message, but it didn't come. I smiled a self satisfied smile to myself. Yup, I was definitely starting to narrow it down. She had unwittingly given me a clue. A big one. I could draw a big red line through a whole bunch of girls now, because most of them were either organizing the dance, or obsessed with it. I was closing in on her.
"Hey." Maria's voice made me turn around. "Thought I would find you here. So how's the second serve coming?"
"Good. Better." I hadn't even told her that I was going to be practicing my second serve, and yet, she just knew. I smiled at her. "Thanks for asking."
She looked confused for a second or two, "I always ask you shit like that."
"I know. You always know exactly what I'm doing, sometimes even before I do."
"Telepathy." She smiled and shrugged at me. "So...You ready to whip everyone's asses?"
"Yup!" I said. "I hope your gonna have a front row seat?"
"I'm not coming to watch you tomorrow."
"What?" My stomach dropped a bit. "Why wouldn't you come?"
"Because I don't need to. I already know what's going to happen...." She cleared her throat and struck a kind of pose, well, I thought it was a pose. An awkward one.
"Mike Matthews is going to come out and play the best fucking game of tennis that the world, and the scout has ever seen before. He's going to whip everyone's asses, and then he is going to be offered an amazing scholarship to a top university and beat everyone there as well, and then he's going to go on and become a world famous tennis player and go down in the history books when he wins Wimbledon a hundred times in a row! The end."
Maria ended her little speech with a small bow. Her hair flopped forward and when she stood back up, the whole thing came tumbling back into her face. She blew a wayward strand back up, but it just fell down again. She tucked the strand behind her ear and but it was too short to stay there, so just popped back out.
I smiled and without thinking walked up to her and took a headband out of my tennis bag. Without saying anything, I slipped it over her head and then pulled it back up, sweeping all the hair back. Her hair was really soft. Her ear too, I grazed it as I brought the band back over. I fiddled with it a bit, making sure I got it into position and then stood back to admire my work, but before I could look up, I was drawn to Maria's eyes.
They were wide. Unblinking and she was staring straight at me with what looked like shock. Or something else...? I felt a tightness in my chest. A kind of uncomfortable tugging sensation. This was the feeling that I'd had when she'd fallen into my chest last week. I looked at her. Really looked at her. She looked so ridiculously adorkable right now with that orange headband on. She was
