Page 72 of A Summer of Stars

But I wasn’t about to describe the vivid dreams I had been having of Aldridge since kissing her.

Dreams of us dancing, my hand traveling up her waist.

Dreams of my lips memorizing the slope of her cupid’s bow.

Dreams of her knees buckling as I muttered her name.

Dreams of her saying my name.

The worst part of all was that they were real. Each had happened. My subconscious was forcing me to relive something it thought we needed to exist.

It didn’t help that everyone wanted to hear about her, or wanted my opinion on her matches, or wanted to know if I liked her. As if I were fourteen being questioned by my mother after school.

Just to torture myself, I started following her matches. It seemed to become a bit of a habit, asking Eliza in between interviews if Aldridge was moving along the bracket. She’d lift her eyebrows, giving me a giddy look.

“Are you sure you don’t want to see the photo of her? She looks quite beautiful,” she’d say each time.

“That’s all right.”

“We’re off at the end of the week before Paris. You should go to one of her matches.” She nudged my elbow as we waited for the next interviewer to sit.

“I don’t think that’s a great idea, since…” I grappled for a reason.

“Since you’re not actually together? I think most of the cast was informed. But that doesn’t mean you can’t support her, or that you can’t like her.”

“Jesus—”

“Kieran, you’re being dense. We have a free day, take advantage of it. Maybe this will help you take your mind off her, since you obviously want to know how she’s doing. It’ll help promote the movie too—if you want to look at it that way.”

So now, I’ve ended up at a tennis match in the hope that seeing her will replace my last memory of us before I fall asleep tonight.

July had been filled with scorching sunrises and sleepless midnights, to say the least. And the month had only just started.

Nari opened her mouth right as the arena erupted in applause. Each head turned to the open tunnel below where a woman with a shaved head was entering the court. A bag sagged on her shoulder as she waved, greeting the full crowd. She walked to a bench on the right of the umpire’s tall stoop below our section. Another swell of praise started, focused on the same tunnel again.

Aldridge was in all white, a stark contrast to everything she’d worn this month. White visor, white tank, white skirt, white sneakers. Seeing her now, even when out of reach, felt like witnessing something mystical. She was becoming a passing dream I didn’t understand. A fictional character. One who granted me half a secret and ran off with the rest. I had read a few chapters of her story before it was slammed shut and pulled from my grasp.

I pushed my sunglasses into my hair to get a clearer look. Her cheeks were red as she focused on the ground in front of her, walking to her spot. She offered a small wave to a few of the spectators seated below, closer to the court. Placing her bag on the bench, she said something to the umpire with a smile, her ponytail reaching the middle of her back as she looked up.

Did—did she just flinch? Her shoulders stiffened, and she opened her mouth before turning around, a line replacing the shape of her lips as she grabbed water.

“Did you notice that?” I asked.

“What?” Franny responded.

I shook my head. “Nothing, I guess. I must’ve imagined it.” I rubbed my eyes.

Aldridge went to the right of the court as her opponent, Daria Wren, threw the ball in the air. The entire arena quieted once the ball left her hand. She jumped to meet it in the air with her racket. It was like the gates were pulled open in a horse race—the match had begun.

Aldridge ran forward. The sound of the racket whacking the ball echoed, flying to Wren’s far corner. Wren fought to send the ball past Aldridge. But she wouldn’t give in, her sneakers sliding against the court. Aldridge’s arm extended, stopping the ball in its path,barelysending it over the net. Wren raced to the middle of the court, diving, but it hit the ground twice before she was able to throw her racket under it.

I put my fingers between my lips to whistle.

Nari slapped her hand on my knee, halting my effort to stand up. “She’s only won a point, you can’t stand up and cheer yet.”

I didn’t care. I applauded and cheered.

Franny snorted with laughter.