The Secret of You and Me - Melissa Lenhardt Page 0,16
But, the centerpiece of the clubhouse was the Wall of Fame opposite the main entrance. Plaques and photos covered either side of the trophy case anchored in the middle. And there it was. To the left of the case, near the end of the bottom row of photos. Sweat trickled down to the corner of my eye, making it sting. I wiped it away.
Sophie and I stood arm in arm. Sophie held a silver plate; I held a gold cup. We’d just won the club doubles tournament for the third year in a row. I’d won the singles tournament, beating Jamie Luke in straight sets without dropping a game. I was grinning into the camera, flushed with victory and sweaty from my match. Sophie, my biggest cheerleader on the sideline, smiled down at me. After the camera had clicked, she kissed me on the cheek and whispered You’re a badass in my ear.
You’re goddamn right I am.
“That’s you, isn’t it?”
I jumped at the girl’s voice. “Sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay.”
“That’s you and Mrs. Wyatt. You’re Nora Noakes.”
“Yeah.”
“Coach Cress talked about you all the time. You and Mrs. Wyatt. Said you were the best doubles team he ever coached.”
“Huh,” I said, staring at the photo, wishing I could go back to that summer knowing now it was the beginning of the end. Would I do anything differently?
“Mrs. Wyatt says you were the best. She’s always teasing Logan and me about it. Says you two would have kicked our butts. I’m Lexa, by the way. Lexa Rodriguez.”
“Nice to meet you. You and Logan are doubles partners?”
“Yeah. Club champs two years running.”
“Good for you.” I jerked my head toward the tennis courts on the other side of the wall. “Why aren’t you out there practicing?”
“I’m done for today. I just started my shift. Logan’s out there, hitting with my brother.”
“Think anyone would mind...?”
She rolled her eyes in a mannerism I remembered from my youth. “Please.”
My body relaxed as soon as I walked outside to the four courts grouped in a rectangle to the west of the clubhouse. A green windscreen covered the chain link fence around the court on three sides, with the fourth side open to the restaurant patio. Logan and a teenage boy were in the middle of a long, grunt-filled volley. I found a chair at a table near the court and watched.
Logan moved like her mother. Long legs and arms made her side-to-side movements seem effortless and gave her the ability to reach the ball even when her opponent thought he’d dropped it in the perfect spot. Her ball placement was impeccable, and she kept delivering shot after shot to his forehand. He would try to reposition himself to the center line, thinking Logan was about to go cross-court, but another volley delivered right at his forehand pulled him back every time. He knew Logan was setting him up as well as I did, so he delivered a shot to Logan’s backhand. She reached out and, with a two-handed grip, crushed the return. The guy watched Logan’s shot whiz by, just catching the in line.
Logan caught sight of me, grinned and waved. I waved back.
I sat back in my chair and let the familiarity of the sights and sounds wash over me. I’d spent half of my childhood on these courts, and in the swimming pool beyond. Summers full of sticky popsicles, nut-brown bodies cannonballing into the deep end, the tang of sweat and suntan lotion on our upper lips when we laid out, chicken fights with Joe and Charlie and whatever other boys were available, choking on chlorinated water when we were dunked. The squeak of tennis shoes on the court, the thwack of the racquet on a ball. Sitting on a lifeguard chair, twirling a whistle around our fingers, noses white with sunscreen.
A glass of water, sweat beading on the sides, was placed on the table next to me by a perfectly manicured hand. “I saw you from inside. Thought you might be thirsty.”
My stomach tumbled at the sound of her voice, and then I looked at her.
With her expensive tailored clothes, red lips and Jackie O. sunglasses, she looked like a movie star. A cool breeze brushed my skin, as if she’d brought the air-conditioning outside with her.
“Thank you.”
She nodded but was looking in her daughter’s direction. I gulped the water, unaware until it coursed down my throat how thirsty I was. The ice clinked in the glass when I set it down.