Page 25 of A Summer of Stars

I was caught in a daze following the two lunging for the ball, trading it back and forth. The sound of the ball as it bounced off the court like a hypnotizing clock. The entire stadium released their held breath when Aldridge sent it to the farthest point from Tunisia.

Aldridge’s arms dropped in relief.

The first point of the set.

“Four points to win a game, and six games to win a set, unless her opponent is at five games, then Ms. Aldridge needs an additionalgame?” Franny questioned. “But she could also win points if Tunisia sends the ball outside the court or if Tunisia is penalized.”

“Why would she be penalized?”

“I have absolutely no clue; this sport is so confusing.” He shook his head. “But if she wins this set, she needs to win another one—it’s best two out of three,” he clarified, but appeared slightly confused still.

Aldridge served again, immediately sending the ball out of reach from Tunisia. The crowd jolted from the quick point, clapping with competitive spirit. On the court, Tunisia appeared shaken up, while Aldridge bent her knees and sent the ball straight to her opponent, who sent it right back. Tunisia ran for the ball, sending it to the opposite corner from Aldridge. I watched as she ran for it, her foot sliding against the ground as if it were incapable of snapping at such an odd angle.

Everyone seated was silent, watching with such intensity. It was impossible not to tap your foot in anticipation, waiting for someone to miss. The two went back and forth for what felt like hours.

Aldridge sent the ball over the net with so much power, I wasn’t sure how she was still going. But she put her whole body into each swing like the racket was an extension of her arm. She looked like a superhero.

“Estás bien?” Franny asked, gesturing to my knee.

“What?” I halted the tapping. “Claro.”

The set ended with Aldridge winning, 6–4.

Tunisia started the second set off with anger. Everyone inhaled. Aldridge was forced to the other side of the court, sprinting to catch the ball, but it was a footstep out of reach. The crowd cheered for Tunisia. Much of the set continued on like that; Tunisia won, 6–3.

One more set left.

Aldridge centered herself, preparing. She tossed the ball high, and the two players went back and forth until Tunisia sent the ball outside the line. Aldridge pumped her fist shortly in excitement. My heart was racing. Forty minutes flew by. Aldridge led, 5–4. One more game and she’d win. The stadium felt breathless as the two tennis professionals reached for points.

“Come on, Luna,” Franny urged from my right.

Aldridge walked over to the bench for water and nodded to a man in the audience above. He looked like he was in his sixties. They spoke, her shoulders slumped forward. I looked down at my watch; they’d been playing for almost two hours.

Dios mío, I’ve been sitting here for over two hours watching Luna Aldridge, of all people.

Points were won and lost, and soon, the two were tied at 6–6. Seven points sat between Aldridge and the win.

Both players buzzed with energy.

Three points for Aldridge.

Three for Tunisia.

Two for Aldridge.

Three for Tunisia.

Then the last point happened so quickly. Tunisia hit the ball to the left of Aldridge, and it looked like it was outside the line.

“That was definitely out,” I argued.

But the line judge disagreed, so Tunisia’s ball was confirmed as in. She won the final point she needed.

Aldridge’s shoulders fell, but she kept her chin high as she congratulated her opponent over the net and waved to the crowd. I forgot I was supposed to be standing. I watched as she collected her things and walked back through the tunnel.

Why was I so upset that she lost?

“It Appears That Aldridge Did AnythingbutRelax During Her Eight-Month Break”