Page 86 of It’s All in How You Fall
Rather than with an on-court presentation, the trophy and runner-up plaque will be presented in the impressive air-conditioning of the clubhouse.
“This way, girls, I’ll show ya.” Lily Jane gestures to Sunny, Peregrine, and me when it’s clear we don’t know what to do. Alex’s parents and Coach Brandt are deep in conversation with both Coach Bev and tournament officials, and Alex has been whisked away with a wave and a round of applause to… somewhere.
“They want him to shower before the presentation,” Lily Jane says when she realizes we’re all craning our necks around as we exit the court and dump out onto one of the designated paths that wind from the courts to the clubhouse. “Little old men can wear the same clothes two days in a row to golf and then while away the day over glass-bottle Coke in the clubhouse, but actual, hard-earned sweat? Not allowed. It’d look disgraceful in the pictures they’ll take.”
Sunny giggles. “Tell us how you really feel, LJ.”
“You don’t want that,” Lily Jane warns.
“Uh…” Sunny bites her lip. “Why?”
“Because then I’ll tell you that I was betting on Alex and Caroline all along—no offense.” I’m floored. My jaw drops and I’m totally glad Lily Jane is locking eyes with Sunny, confirming that, apparently, she was always Team Caroline? Like, I didn’t even know I was on a team until a few weeks ago. “From my point of view, this has been brewing with Alex for years—puppy love city, even though he tried to hide it. So when we caught them on the couch, I wasn’t surprised.”
“On your couch?” Peregrine asks, pointedly yanking off her sunglasses. “What happened on thecouch, Caroline?”
I immediately turn red. Oh God, I didn’t tell them about that.
“You know what? No offense taken, LJ.” Sunny saves me by looping one of her arms in Lily Jane’s and then snagging Peregrine and forcing us to keep walking four across. “In fact, I was hoping you and Topps and maybe the football crew might be interested in coming to a birthday bash I’m throwing at the lake next weekend. More the merrier, right, girls?”
“There’s only one bathroom, but if you don’t mind peeing in the lake, you’ll be good to go,” Peregrine adds tartly.
Luckily, LJ laughs. “You’re going to wish you didn’t say that, because the football team gets out at noon on Saturdays and every one of them is going to want to party after the first week of two-a-days.”
Somehow, even after a day outside, Sunny is positively glowing when she answers. “I’m counting on it. Actually, tell them their significant others and family are okay too. Peregrine, you know Liv Rodinsky’s younger brother right?”
“She sure does,” I answer as Peregrine’s mouth opens and closes idly with the knowledge that she’s just been completely set up.
A sly grin crosses Lily Jane’s lips—I’m sure that as a Northland squad leader she’s refereed more than one catfight involving freshman cheerleaders in Ryan’s rotation last year and would like nothing more than to solve that problem. “I’ll see to it that Ryan makes it.” She tugs hard on our little linked row of four. “Okay, let’s hustle—the mini lobster rolls are to die for.”
The clubhouse is packed with more people than those who watched Alex’s match. The winners of every other bracket are here too, as are all their families, friends, followers.
Piano music tinkles in the air, booze flows freely—the champagne tent and George the accordion player have packed up and moved on—and Lily Jane was more than right: those lobster roll canapés are absolutely amazing.
Not that I got to convey my lobster roll enthusiasm to her, because we lost Lily Jane immediately to someone she knows from her trivia night visits. We lost Alex’s whole team too, everyone splintering off for side conversations of his or her own. Pretty quickly, the three of us wedge ourselves between the end of the water table and the windows.
A half hour ago, Alex arrived and accepted his trophy, strolling up the dais as Tennis Alex in all his should-be-on-the-tour glory. His hair wet and tamed, a fresh white polo and pressed shorts. Alex has always been the kind of guy who gives off the impression that he smells as good as he looks, and he completely lives up to that reputation at this moment.
Not to be crass, but he looks utterly delicious.
Starting tomorrow he’ll be Soccer Alex for a few months, and then Basketball Alex, but at this moment in time, he fits the part of a Wimbledon star, with crisp white edges to his clothes and a fancy watch I’ve never seen him wear dangling from his wrist.
But since the award ceremony, he’s been stuck in the crowd, still up toward the dais. His stream of admirers doesn’t seem to end. And in our corner, the three of us are sort of running out of things to talk about. Sunny and Peregrine have veered into gymnastics.
“Jada could totally make level ten before season,” Sunny’s saying. “She’s really crushed it the past few weeks.”
“She’s crushed it but she’s not consistent, and you know that’s Olga’s big thing.” Peregrine pushes a lock of errant hair behind her ear. “It’s not can you do it once, but can you do it over and over?”
“Okay, true, but the leaps and bounds that she’s made this summer are just—”
“Hey, you guys want to wait outside? It’s so crowded in here.” I force a smile, but I’m already setting my drink down and pivoting away.
The girls follow after an exchanged glance that I don’t miss. The patio is sparsely populated, the twinkle lights from the clubhouse making everything look like a fairy tale in the falling dusk. When we settle at a cocktail table near a balcony overlooking some golf hole I don’t know, Sunny’s brows pull tightly together, her fingers snagging mine as I attempt to scuttle away. “Sorry to talk about gymnastics.”
“It’s okay. It’s not that—go on with what you guys were saying. Jada at level ten? What about Avalon?”
“Later,” Peregrine says. “We can do better. Like, how do you feel about tomorrow? The tryouts?”
The girls didn’t see me play. They also don’t know that apparently anyone makes the team. Coach Brandt didn’t confirm Coach Bev’s assessment, and I’m not going to treat next week as if I’m already being fitted for a Northland uniform. We’ve spent so long being the best, pushing ourselves in a sport where it’s really you against yourself. Sure, other people come into play, but it’s not the same as a sport such as tennis when there’s the filter of judges and rotations.
