Perfect for You(56)

Will he? I’m still not sure why he’s even here. I glance at Ash again. He nods toward my opponent and mouths, “You can do this.” He’s here to support me. Even after everything, he knows how important this match is to me. How hard I worked to get here.

I let out a long, shaky breath. “I’m okay, Coach. Better. I can do this.”

“Good. Now keep your head on straight and give the whole ‘coming in on her serve’ another try.”

“But—”

“Just do it, Flannigan. I got you here. I wouldn’t tell you to do this if I didn’t think you could handle it. Find the girl who was determined to break all the school records this year. Who wanted to make her senior season something we’d all be talking about for years. She’s the one who can win today.”

I nod. Even after Derrick cheated on me, tennis was the one part of my life I never lost confidence in. And now I’m over Derrick. So over Derrick. Noah is gone. And Ash…he’s here to cheer me on. I have to do this. I look at Ash one last time before turning and jogging to my place on the court. I bop up and down, something I’ve learned distracts my opponent, but is still totally legal. I crouch down and sway side to side, waiting for the serve. The girl is completely thrown by my erratic behavior. Her ball toss is off, but she swings anyway. The serve is nowhere near as hard or well placed. I attack. Forget about being patient and wearing her out. I have some aggression that needs to be dealt with. I’m putting all my emotion from the last month and a half into this match.

I slam the ball back at her. Bring it on. I’m ready. She regains a little composure, but my energy level is distracting her. She’s tired. I’m fueled by so many emotions I can’t stand still. And I’m winning because of it. The girl’s coach walks over, watching the match, watching me. He’s looking for a weakness. Not happening. I’m not weak. Not anymore. Not ever again.

I don’t look at Ash or Coach Moyers. It’s just me and the ball. The match is close. Both of us are giving it our all, but this match is mine. I can feel it. We’re both running all over the place, and as tired as I am, I’ve never felt so alive. I’m going to win. I know it. I can see her arm shake as she tosses the ball up for her serve. She’s getting sloppy and before I know it, I’m facing match point.

“Yeah, Meg!” It’s Ash. I falter for a moment at the sound of his voice. Focus. I have to focus. I shake it off and take two deep breaths. My opponent seems to be doing the same because she’s taking longer to serve. She serves down the line, but I’m expecting it. I hit it early, like Coach wants me to, and it goes back at her with such force the ball jams into her body. It bounces off her racket in a terrible mishit, but it will make it over the net. I rush to the net and slam the ball down. She lunges for it, but misses.

I won. I drop to my knees and double over. Tears streak my face. I look up at Coach, who’s thrusting his fist in the air in celebration. My match was one of the few that could’ve gone either way. Now, the team’s win is pretty much guaranteed. I get to my feet and walk to the net. I shake the girl’s hand.

“Nice game, Meg,” she says. I’m surprised she knows my name. The players we face at States aren’t people we usually see in regular season matches. “I’m Liz, by the way.”

Liz? Really? I suppress the urge to laugh at the irony of it. “Nice to meet you, Liz. Good game.”

I grab my racket off the court and walk out the gate. Coach high fives me. “Told you coming in on her serve would work.”

“Yeah, you did. Thanks, Coach. I owe you one.”

“Glad to hear you say that. You can come back next summer and help me work with some of the new girls. It’s going to be difficult to replace you and the other seniors.”

“You got it.” I smile and walk past him.

Ash is standing up, brushing off his pants, and looking really uneasy. I don’t know if I should smile, say hi, or wait to see what he does first. “Congratulations,” he says.

“You came.” Totally lame, but I’m tongue-tied right now.

“This was your big moment, right?”

He never really got to follow tennis since he was always at football practice. I wasn’t sure he even really understood how important this match was to me.

“No game today?” I ask. I’m not sure when football season officially ends.

“JV is playing today. We get the week off. The last game is next week.” He looks down at his shoes.

The conversation is so awkward and forced. Not at all how things with Ash and me used to be. I fidget with my racket strings, trying to find some way to get my nervous energy out.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Meg.” He raises his eyes to mine. “About last weekend.”

I put my hand up to stop him. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have dumped my feelings on you like that. You and Liz got back together. That’s great. I’m happy for you. I want you to be happy.” I mean it, too. I do want Ash to be happy, even if it’s not with me.

“We’re not back together.”

My heart clenches. “You’re not?”

“Liz can’t make me happy the way you can.”

Am I imagining this? Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

He reaches for my arms. “You’re freezing.” My arms are covered in goose bumps, but they have nothing to do with the chilly fall weather.