“What did the coaches say?”
Mitch laughed. “The coaches said ask Spencer.”
I gave her a feigned dirty look and stuck my tongue out at her. She just grinned at me, and I fluttered inside a little. Why did that happen? I shook it off.
Carrie gave me the real answer. “The coaches said drop shots, but my drop shot isn’t great.”
“I think it’ll be fine. It won’t need to be perfect. I haven’t seen her come to net once. I doubt she’s comfortable there.” I thought for a moment, and they were both watching me. “Also take a little something off your shots.”
“What!?” Both of my friends responded the same way at the same time.
“No, seriously. Look how fast she is at getting back to the middle. If you take something off and hit some more acute angles, she won’t be able to do that. It’ll open up the court, and she doesn’t have the power to punish you for shorter shots. Be careful though, she’ll try to cut that angle.”
Mitch pointed at Carrie’s tablet. “Why wouldn’t she just take it up the line?”
I shook my head. “Too risky. This girl wants to hit to the big court.”
We talked it over for several hours, and I gave her some other pointers, like to be more aggressive on her opponent’s second serve, which was already something she was planning on attacking. All in all the time went far faster than I could have imagined.
We got to the hotel, and one of the assistant coaches paired us off and handed each pair a small white envelope with card keys.
“Okay ladies, go get settled in. Dinner at seven in conference room one.”
I handed one of the keys to Mitch and began to wheel my beat up old carry-on sized suitcase toward the elevators while toting my tennis bag over my shoulder, while Mitch followed behind with her bag, an old, beat up army canvas duffel. Something about that just made me laugh.
“What?”
“You, Michelle, are a trip.”
“I can’t have a fancy bag like that. I have a rep to think of.” She grinned at me shaking my head. “It’s one of my dad’s from when he was in service. It’s all part of my butch lesbian mystique.”
“Yeah, but I know you’re just a big softie.”
“You take that to your grave, Cindy Spencer.”
Her face was so serious, but I knew she was kidding. Funny. I wasn’t usually good at reading people, but I was starting to be able to tell with Mitch. We slipped inside and Mitch closed the door behind us. I tossed my bag onto the nearer bed.
“So, are you planning to try to seduce me tonight?”
I was expecting some sort of smart aleck quip, but I didn’t get one. She just shook her head. “No.”
The sincerity of it surprised me and I looked at her. Was she sad? Unfortunately I didn’t get a chance to tell her I was kidding, as Carrie knocked on our door at that moment, checking if we were headed down to dinner.
After eating we ended up in one of the upperclassmen’s rooms watching a movie. I jumped onto one of the beds, and made room for Mitch to sit next to me, but she didn’t, instead taking a chair on the other side of the room.
I was surprised at how hurt I was. When Mitch and I watched shows in her room, which was becoming a regular thing, we always sat together, sometimes under the same blanket. Maybe she didn’t want people to know we’d become friends.
As the movie progressed I got the distinct impression that Mitch was doing her best to not look in my direction. Maybe I was just being overly sensitive. Finally, as lights out approached, we made our way back to our room.
“Do you want the bathroom first?”
I nodded. “Yeah, sure.” Mitch’s voice had been soft, very unlike her. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
I may not have the highest E. Q. in the world, but I knew that wasn’t true. “When I’m done we’re going to talk.” I grabbed my pajamas and headed into the little bathroom. I took my time brushing my teeth and putting my hair back into the braid I usually wore to bed. By the time I came back out Mitch was already changed and under her covers, facing the other way.
“I’m out, if you need it.”
“I’m okay. Goodnight.”
“Michelle?” I couldn’t keep the hurt out of my voice. “Are you mad at me?”
She rolled over and looked at me. “I’d never do that to you. We’re friends.”
The thing I’d said when we’d first gotten to our room came back to me. “Mitch, I was kidding about the seducing thing. Is that why you didn’t sit with me during the movie?”
“I thought it might make you uncomfortable, with everyone around. I know me being gay bothers you.” Her voice was unusually quiet.
My jaw dropped open. “It does not!” Mitch just looked at me. “I mean, it doesn’t anymore.” I sat down on the edge of my bed. “You realize you’re the first gay person I’ve ever known, right?”
“I doubt that.”
“I mean, that I knew was gay, that lived out. And now you’re my best friend. I’d say that’s growth.”
She smirked at me, playfulness returning to her eyes. “I’m your best friend?”
“I spend more time with you than anyone else, even Ethan. And I look forward to hanging out with you. So yeah, I think so.”
“Damn it, Spencer, I’m touched.”
My face turned stern. “What did I tell you about calling me by my last name?”
Mitch laughed. “Sorry, Cindy.”
“I forgive you, Michelle.”
I climbed into bed, lying on my side facing my friend. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot?”
“Why Mitch? I mean, your parents did not call you Mitch when you were little.”
That got a laugh. “No, they most decidedly did not.” She shrugged. “When I was a kid I spent a lot of time outside with the neighborhood gang, playing ball, riding my bike, mostly with the boys. I was better than them at most sports, faster than all of them, and they always wanted me on their teams. I also kicked the ass of the ones who made fun of me for being a girl. One of them, Billy Stephens, had an old fashioned, honest-to-god tree house with a ladder and a ‘No Girls Allowed’ sign. So they decided to make me an honorary boy. But a boy couldn’t have a name like Michelle, so they decided on “Mitch.’
“They kept calling me that, even at school. It started to stick with the other kids. I got teased a lot about being more of a boy than a girl anyway, so I just kind of went with it. Names lose their punch if you’re not embarrassed by them. And here I am.”
“Did you, I mean, have you ever wanted to be a boy?”
“Maybe a little when I was a kid, and I couldn’t join certain teams, or got teased. Or when my aunts and uncles bought me dolls. But I’m good now. And I like having lady parts. They’re a lot more fun. And it’s easier to have kids.”
That made me grin at her in disbelief. “You want kids?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I just figured you were planning on playing the field for the rest of your life. So many curious, so little time, remember?”
Her eyes and voice got thoughtful. “My parents met their first day of high school. Dad says he walked into his English class and there she was. He said she was glowing. He managed to work up the nerve to ask her to Homecoming, and they’ve been together ever since. They’re so deeply in love it’s scary.”
“And you want that?”
Mitch nodded. “I don’t know if it’s even possible for most people. My dad always told me I’d know the one when I met her, but I’m not so sure.”
I felt a tear sting my eye at the longing in Mitch’s voice. I’d never even considered she could feel that way, and that wasn’t the first time I’d sold her short. I needed to stop doing that. “C’mon, you’re only nineteen. You’ll find her. I know you will. You’re going to make someone so happy someday.”
“Thanks, Cindy.” There was a note of pain in her voice, which made me sad.
We smiled at each other, but the moment was interrupted by a knock on the door. “You ladies in there?”
We answered in unison. “Yeah, Coach.”
“Okay. Lights out, get some sleep.”
We heard footsteps move away, and Mitch climbed out of bed. “I probably should use the bathroom.” She did, turning out the lights when she finished. She was wearing a tank top and boxer shorts, her long legs and powerful shoulders bare. She was incredible.
She climbed onto her mattress, pulling the covers around herself. “G’night, Cindy.”
“Goodnight, Michelle.”