I let Ethan take me out to a late movie after practice on Tuesday. It was weird, because when I mentioned that I had plans that evening Mitch didn’t tease me about it at all. Maybe she was trying to be good because I was helping her with math. She didn’t press for details like Carrie did, but she did get surlier the more I talked about it, so I dropped it. For some reason teasing her with Ethan had lost a lot of its fun.
He let me choose the movie, but I didn’t force him to sit through the biggest chick flick on the roster. We sat near the back and he put his arm around me, and I didn’t like it. Mitch had done the same thing on Sunday, and it had felt so good. Why did this feel so different? I mean, it wasn’t wrong, he wasn’t trying to cop a feel, or anything like that, but I just wished he would stop. I couldn’t let him know that, though.
I could barely concentrate on the movie. When it was over I told him that I had a headache, and asked him to take me back to my dorm. He was obviously disappointed, but he did promise to be on time for my match on Saturday, letting me know he was planning on taking me out after. I doubted I’d get out of sex a second time. The thought of it turned my stomach a bit, but I pasted on a smile and let him kiss me goodnight.
Mitch and I met up as planned on Wednesday afternoon, and she started right into her algebra problems without any small talk. I’d been mentally preparing to deal with her pointed inquiries all day, and I guess it threw me a little, which Mitch picked up on almost immediately.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, it’s nothing. So, the logarithm here has to be separated to one side so you can dig out the variable.” I pointed her back to the page. Over the next fifteen minutes I made three basic algebra mistakes, the last of which made Mitch put down her pen and sit back in her chair.
“What is going on with you?”
“Sorry. I’m just off today. I don’t know why.”
“Bullshit. Sorry.” She grimaced as my cheeks reddened at her French.
I made myself smile. “It’s okay. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. Promise.”
“I remember someone telling me that anything that affects one partner affects the other, or something like that?”
“Only if it affects my game.”
Mitch pointed to my last mistake. “I’d say it is. And since you’re tutoring me…”
I breathed out. “It has to do with Ethan. You sure you want to know?”
“Did he do something wrong? ‘Cause that would give me a happy.”
“A happy? Who talks like that?” I was smiling now. I couldn’t help it.
“I need to show you more Buffy.”
She was looking at me, her bright blue eyes sparkling with joy and mischief. They were mesmerizing, and I just wanted to be close to her.
“Okay. After practice?”
“You don’t have studying to do?”
“Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”
***
Five hours later we were sitting on her bed. I was next to her, and she’d covered us with that big blanket of hers. My head was on her shoulder, and I found myself nodding off. The episode we were watching was called ‘Nightmares,’ where a little boy in a coma was causing everyone’s deepest fears to manifest.
Somehow it made me a little uncomfortable. I wondered what my deepest fears were. I wasn’t afraid of spiders or clowns or anything like that, at least not that I knew of. Mostly my nightmares were about being chased, hiding from people who wanted to hurt me, but I never knew why. I hadn’t had a bad one since the season started, but something told me one was coming. Maybe it was just the show.
Mitch put her arm around me. God, that felt nice. Warm.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened with Ethan last night?”
“You could tell?”
“Yeah. I don’t like it when my friends are sad.”
“I’m not sad.” I looked down, and Mitch made a noise that told me she didn’t believe me. “It’s nothing, I just, I’m not sure it’s working.”
“So break up with him.”
“But it should be working! I don’t know why it isn’t. I mean he’s handsome and sweet. He’s really nice to me.”
“He forgot your match.”
“Yeah, but he was really sorry about that. He took me out for a nice night yesterday.”
“How’s the sex?”
My eyes got wide. “Mitch!”
“What? That’s important.”
“It’s fine.” For crying out loud, I didn’t even believe myself.
“Just fine? Has he ever, um, what would you southern belles call it, shivered your timbers?”
I burst out a laugh. “That is not what I would call it. That’d be like a sailor or something.” I couldn’t help my voice getting smaller. “And that’s none of your business.”
“So I’m going to take that as a no, then.”
“It’s hard for some girls.” I’d heard that at least.
“So I understand. They’re called ‘straight girls’. I’ve personally never had that problem, coming or going.”
“I bet you haven’t.”
***
As I lay in bed that night I thought about it. Mostly I was avoiding going to sleep, because that episode had freaked me out. I remembered my last bad nightmare. I’d woken screaming, my pajamas and sheets soaked with sweat, and I didn’t want it to happen again. So I was thinking about things.
Mitch was probably blowing smoke about the orgasm thing. I mean, girls faked it all the time. Somehow, though, I think Mitch could probably tell. But still, I needed to figure out this thing with Ethan. He was handsome, and I was attracted to him. Because if I weren’t, what would that mean? No, I had to be. I just needed to try harder.
Ethan made it on time to my match Saturday, and he was very supportive, cheering every point. I waved and smiled. No warm fuzzies at the sight of him, but I had to be on point for the match. Mitch mostly ignored him, trying to keep my mind on my game. Funny the reversal of roles there.
The competition was a definite step up this time, but Mitch and I were able to control our set and win six-two. For my singles match we’d been able to find tape on the girl I was playing, so I felt a lot more prepared than last week. She was a big serve and forehand, and was obviously used to overpowering her opponents. That wasn’t going to work with me, though, since she didn’t hit as hard as Mitch did. I had her completely frustrated after the first set, and she started over-hitting. Things went downhill for her after that.
Unfortunately, Mitch had the opposite problem. She was playing someone more like me, a tactician. Mitch took the first set six-three on the strength of an early break, but her opponent had adjusted to her power and they were tied five all in the second, with momentum clearly swinging away from my friend.
She dropped the first point on her serve and let out a howl of frustration. Her opponent was bouncing on the balls of her feet, in far too good a mood.
“C’mon, Mitch!” I hollered at her, and she turned towards me with a look that begged me to tell her what to do. I ran over Coach Holiday, who was watching with one of the assistants.
“Have her break down the forehand.”
She wasn’t convinced. “Her opponent’s forehand is solid.”
“I know, but she’s thinking too much, and the other girl’s better at that. She needs a place to focus her power.”
Coach thought for a second before sending in the signal. I moved back to the fence and watched as Mitch started hitting massive, deep forehands crosscourt. Her opponent matched her shot for shot, but Mitch rose to the challenge like I knew she would, holding for six-five
During the changeover one of the coaches was talking to her, but her eyes sought me out.
“You’ve got this.” I tried to say it with my eyes as much as anything, because I knew she wouldn’t be able to hear me, and she nodded, never looking away.
She ran out to the far court, bouncing on her toes as her opponent prepared to serve. Mitch spun her racquet in her and took a step forward, a snarl forming on her lips. Anyone watching, including her opponent, knew she had seized the dominance, and the first serve sailed wide. Her second serve was not the strength of her game, and Mitch took a huge swing, blasting it past her opponent’s reach.
I whooped and clapped as Mitch’s confident smile beamed across the net. I was so focused on what was happening on the court that I didn’t hear Ethan come up from behind on the other side of the fence.
“Hey.”
I was so focused on the match I’d forgotten he was even there, and I jumped when I heard his voice.
“Oh, hey.” I leaned over and gave him a hug and let him steal a quick kiss. Mitch immediately sailed a forehand long, and I turned back to her, watching her face morph into a scowl.
“I’m going to finish watching Mitch’s match, then I’ll meet you up in the stands after I shower and change, okay?
“Sure. You played great, by the way.”
I smiled at him. He really was trying to be supportive. “Thanks, sweetie. I’ll see you in a bit.”
He kissed me on the cheek and went to sit down. I turned back to the court where I caught Mitch pulling her eyes away from me. She didn’t look happy, and when her opponent called out the thirty — fifteen score I knew she’d lost that last point as well.
“C’mon Mitch! You got this!” I closed my fist and shook it, willing her to fight through. She nodded and twirled her racquet as her opponent served. The ball never knew what hit it. Mitch stepped forward and took the ball early, plastering a forehand up the line that I think left a dent in the fence when it hit. Her opponent was clearly unnerved, and she went for way too much on her next two serves, double-faulting to give Mitch a match point.
This time her opponent hit a good serve out wide, but Mitch made the return and equalized in the rally. Her power slowly drove the other girl back, and finally the rally shot that came back was too short. Mitch stepped forward and prepped to rip a forehand, but I was screaming drop shot inside my head. Her opponent had moved way back, and the near court was wide open.
Somehow, miraculously, Mitch pulled back, sliding her racquet under the ball and sending just feet beyond the net. Her opponent made a futile effort to run forward, but the ball bounced a second time before she even got close. The team watching gave a whoop, and I ran out onto the court as Mitch finished shaking hands at the net.
She turned towards me with a big, self-satisfied grin on her face, and I gave her a big hug. “That was great!”
“You like the drop shot at the end? That was for you, y’know.”
“I saw it! It was perfect. Proud of you.” I was still hugging her, and I didn’t want to let go, but I had to. I knew Mitch wasn’t going to be the first to release. We separated, and I felt my cheeks heat up a bit.