“What do you like doing? For fun, I mean.”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m too boring to have fun,” I teased. “I really love taking photos. Not sure I could get to professional level, but I like my cameras.”
“That makes perfect sense,” Toni answered, playing with a mint leaf from the top of her drink.
“Why?”
“Because you’ve spent, what, twenty years almost in front of cameras? Not just the matches being on TV, but all the press calls, the adverts, the promos. It would be kind of cool if you ended up behind the camera after all that. Your introvert’s dream.”
“We can’t all be show- offs, Antonia.” It felt nice to use her whole name, the way it tripped off my tongue. I shifted on the lawn chair, my white bikini determined to wriggle into every crack and crevice. “Most likely I’ll start a foundation. Pick something not so fashionable that really needs the help.
“I’m lucky, I know. Me personally? I’m set for life. I invested, I had good advice. I feel like I just want to quietly help people who didn’t get that luck. Not for the pictures and the press. Just to…help. That’s all.”
“You’re such a good person sometimes. It’s kind of disgusting,” Toni said, laughing around her straw. “But that’s the dream. Now I’m back to playing regularly I’m trying to rack up the earnings. I’ve got a few years left in me; I know that. My back is better than before I hurt it, but there’s just always that worry, you know? Back of your mind before you dive for a net shot or your knee doesn’t like the landing on a jump.”
“Oh, I know, trust me.”
“This is getting kind of shop talk, isn’t it? Sorry. I just really want a Slam. I want to get into contention this year. Is that crazy?”
I shook my head. Not if she wanted it enough, trained hard enough. The raw ability was clearly there.
“Anyway, afterwards I’m, like, the opposite of you. I’ll go on TV. Give me pretty clothes and someone to do my make-up. I’ll talk about anyone and how I could do it better. That seems to be what the guys do, anyway.”
“Better you than Mira,” I replied. “That woman really hates me. It wouldn’t be so bad if she just worked for the BBC, but she gets everywhere. Australia is my only break from her, because she hates the long flight.”
“She does not hate you,” Toni said. “Anyway, I think it’s cool how we balance each other. It means we won’t be in competition, outside of playing. No fighting over jobs, no fighting over guys…”
“No fighting over girls?” I hid mostly behind my book as I said it, only so brave.
“Nah, I don’t think we have the same taste,” she answered. “I mean, you’re not into blondes like I am, are you?”
I flicked my blonde—oh, I had never been so glad to be blonde—hair casually out of my eyes in response, saying nothing. Toni just smiled and popped her headphones back on, lost to some murder podcast or other.
I was starting to really like hanging out in Mexico.
Our unofficial pact had been to ignore our phones as much as possible for the week, so I only caught up on my non-urgent messages when we were driving back to the airport. Toni didn’t check hers until after she returned the hire car, and we made it through security.
“What the—” She stopped in her tracks.
“You okay?”
“No, I…”
“Toni?” She made her way to the nearest little metal bench and sat down, heavily. With her hair down, her sunglasses were like a hairband keeping it from her face. I could see that she was a moment away from bursting into tears. I sat next to her, careful not to touch or overstep.
“Is it true?” she asked, and I felt the ground shift underneath me.
“What?” I asked, although I knew. Surely our perfect week that had left us much closer, with the prospect of Toni dating women and definitely not dating the man who was about to wreck everything, would be immunity against my deciding not to tell her?
“About Xavi. Did he…? I heard a whisper in Singapore, but I dismissed it. Now he’s blowing me up with messages saying he didn’t do anything wrong, and he wants to be my coach more than anything. Meanwhile, half the girls on the tour are asking if I’m changing coach for next season, since you’ve poached mine?”
“I haven’t. Toni, look at me. I have no interest in Xavi as my coach. You know how well I work with my mom. Why would that change now?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she’s stepping down. You said your parents are getting divorced…”
“That doesn’t mean I steal coaches from other people. I wouldn’t. And with all possible respect, even if I had a list of back-up options, I’m not sure I would have Xavi on it.”
“Wow, I’m glad you didn’t go with the disrespectful option.”
“Toni—”
“Elin, did he ask you? Did he approach you?”
I nodded. “I was going to tell you, but then—”
“So he could have been out there asking everyone else, and I’d be blindsided. Left without a coach and scrambling around. You didn’t warn me?”
“No, I would never have let that happen. I swear.”
“Let it happen?” Toni stood then, as furious as I’d ever seen her. “I’m not one of your minions, Elin. You don’t get to decide for me. You tell me the truth and I’ll handle it. That’s the only way it goes.”
“I’m sorry.” It was true, at least. Hot tears were just about blinding me, and I clasped my hands on my lap to hide how they were trembling. I knew how weak, how pleading that apology sounded, but it was all I had.
“Yeah, and what good does that do me? Just as well we’re on separate flights.”
“Toni, no. Wait!”
She started to march off towards her gate. I called her name, but she kept on going. I
