Page 16 of Most Eligible
He looks to my right, where Addison is crouching low, her dark hair glistening in the sunlight. On the sidelines, I catch Rhett’s eye and he raises his brows. I raise mine right back and stare at him until he stalks off to the water cooler. I win.
Within minutes, tennis balls are whistling past my ears, and I wish I’d paid more attention in gym class. If I want extra time with Roland, I need to stop ducking every time the ball comes within a yard of me. Soon, Nina gracefully exits the court, followed by Briana.
Monica holds down the court for the remaining five of us,delivering fierce volleys with earsplitting grunts. Olie hits a few balls over, but when Addison tries to get in the game, she misses spectacularly and sprawls on the court, grass stains blooming on her knees.
“Addison!” Roland calls. “You okay?” He jogs up to the net and reaches over to her, pulling her up by the hand. She leans into it and kisses him on the lips before turning around and walking right into me.
“Watch it,” she snaps, stumbling back. “Are you trying to trip me?”
“Wh—no!” I protest. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Love-all!” Roland shouts, jumping to deliver the next serve. He must be contractually obligated to say it, because this cannot possibly be the right score. Maybe someone will edit his shouts into theLove Shacktheme, which, of course, is the 1989 song by the B-52s.
On Roland’s next shot, Addison jumps into the fray. Whipping her racket through the air, she sends the ball so close to Roland’s feet that he almost misses. He sends it back, and Olie leaps forward, hitting the ball enthusiastically. It goes flying over the chain-link fence, and a few seconds later, we hear a crash, someone swearing, and a car alarm.
“I’ll just nip over there,” Norbert says as he takes off in the direction of the alarm.
“Olie!” Roland calls. “You’re out, babe.”
Olie pouts and, hips swinging, jogs over to Roland and gives him a kiss that the cameras zoom in on. When she breaks away, Roland looks dazed. The glare Addison gives her can only be described as murderous, teeth bared and eyes narrowed to slits. If Olie is found dead, I’ll know who to point to.
“And then there were four,” Roland taunts, sizing us up. “Why don’t you spread out a bit? Monica, stay on the long line. Georgia,come up to the net. Then Addison, go opposite her, and Sonya, you can stay opposite Monica.”
In our respective quadrants, we ready ourselves for Roland’s next serve.
“Love-all!” Still not the correct score, but as long as Roland is shouting about love, no one seems to care.
Within minutes, Sonya is out. Is it possible my ball-avoidance strategy could actually work? Addison moves to the back of the court with Monica, leaving me alone at the net.
Bouncing the ball, Roland winks at me, then sends his serve straight to Monica, who returns it neatly to him. He hits it back, and this time Addison lunges forward, sending it onto the line at his feet.
“In!” he calls, shuffling sideways to return the ball. This hit comes straight to me, and I manage to send it right back to him.
“Come on, Georgia, don’t let him win!” Olie shouts.
“I’m trying not to!”
From the sidelines, I hear Rhett’s low laugh and look over, missing the next ball as it whizzes past my head to Monica, who slams her racket through the air and makes Roland stumble on his return.
“They don’t call you the One-Hit Wonder for nothing!” he shouts. His next shot goes to Addison, who runs forward and trips into me again.
“Dammit, Georgia! Get out of the way!”
The next hit goes to Addison again. I glance behind me as she takes aim, an expression of deepest loathing on her face. I’m no tennis expert, but her hit seems too low to make it over the net.
“Duck!” Monica screams as the ball slams into my face.
OnLove Shack, it’s not just sink or swim. It’s sink, swim, or stab in the back.
—Shacking Up: The Definitive, Unauthorized Guide to WinningLove Shack
Chapter Seven
“Is she dead?”
Someone pinches my eye open, and I slap their hand away, scrambling to sit up. My cheek is throbbing where the ball made contact.
Monica jumps back, looking scared. “Are you okay?”
