Page 118 of A Summer of Stars

“Her,” he spoke with exasperation.

I swung my arm below my hip, sending the ball to the right of the court. “Your rabbi? The Guac My World guy’s girlfriend? Your sister-in-law?”

He stood up, his shoulders slumped. “Ava Williams—she’s moved on to the final.”

I lost feeling in my arm. Dead weight in my socket. The racketfell to my side as the machine spat out another ball, hitting the ground behind me.

I had been so focused on staying in my own lane, not paying attention to any of the others’ matches or rankings in order to hold on to my own peace, that I hadn’t considered this outcome.

I was playing against the one person I never wanted to see again. The woman my ex-husband cheated on me with.

“The Becoming of Luna Aldridge”

—Sartorially

THE LAST TIMEI had seen Ava Williams in person was in a hotel bed with Jeremiah. Her eyes were wide like a deer’s. Ironic seeing as she was the new, doe-eyed player at the time.

Shiny and novel. Last year’s up-and-coming tennis player. Freshly a pro at the age of twenty. Suddenly my twenty-five years of age had felt old then.

When I saw her in that bed, I knew I could never look at either of them again. Him for tearing my heart apart. Her for making me forget why anyone would want mine. Did he think she was a better tennis player than me? Prettier than me? More interesting? Was it because she was taller? Thinner? There was a never-ending list of questions that haunted me for months. I thought I was doing us both a favor by never speaking about the infidelity.

But now, looking at her from across the hall, her doe eyes one year older, all I felt was guilt. She wouldn’t look at me, only focusing on the ground where she retied her laces for a fourth time. Twenty-five-year-old Luna had wanted Ava to beg for forgiveness, while twenty-six-year-old Luna was healed enough to know that itwasn’t Ava’s responsibility to do anything at all. I wanted to extend my hand forward and ask if the girl was okay.

Kieran stood beside me, Coach already in his seat in the crowd, as Ava and I waited for the go-ahead to enter the court.

“You all right?” he asked. Despite the heaviness of the moment, it made me laugh to read my last name embroidered on his hat. He had stolen it from my closet when he moved some clothes into my place last week.

“I think I need to talk to her,” I admitted. He refrained from rolling his eyes despite telling me to do that exact thing yesterday when I explained the situation.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he reassured me. “I’ll give you some space.” He leaned forward to kiss me goodbye, his lips enveloping mine with need and desire. I felt dizzy when he pulled away, his hand latching onto my wrist to keep me steady, before walking off.

“Aren’t you supposed to say good luck!” I shouted.

“You don’t need it!” he hollered back. Then, he held up his hand, pointing to his wrist.

I stared at the exit before realizing. Looking down at my wrist, there was a new trinket hanging from my bracelet.

A crescent moon.Have some faith in who you are, Luna Aldridge.

I squeezed my wrist, my palm hugging the charms, before I grabbed my bag and walked over. Ava sat on the ground again, her sun-dyed braid falling over her shoulder as she picked at the laces.

“Do you want some tape?” I offered.

Her head snapped up, startled by my voice. “What?” She gaped.

“Tape, for your laces,” I explained, gesturing to her shoes. She looked down at them but only appeared more confused.

“Here, let me,” I replied, kneeling on the floor. With her eyes still wide, she retreated, letting me take over. I peeled up the endof the masking tape, tearing a strip twice the length of my finger. I nudged her tied laces to the center and pressed the adhesive across them.

“Let me see your other shoe.” I ripped another piece off. She didn’t hesitate, unfolding her leg from her chest to provide me with the other sneaker. Silence filled the space. Her bewilderment was heavy. “Figure skaters get nervous about their laces untying and catching on their blades during programs, so they’ll add tape around the boot of the skate to keep them from moving. It’s not the prettiest trick, but it should keep you from worrying,” I explained.

“Thank you,” she finally replied as I double-checked the tape.

“It’s no problem. Keep this just in case you want to add more between sets.” I put the roll in her bag. Her eyes, green like ocean moss, followed my movement. Maybe this was a bad idea. I had startled her right before the match, and if she messed up it’d be my fault—

“You’ve always been my favorite player,” she confessed.

“Really?” I asked with shock.