Lovely Girls(17)

I looked back at the court just in time to watch Stacey hit a ball into the net and turn angrily, hitting her racket against one hand. As she did, her tennis skirt blew up in the wind, exposing the shorties beneath.

“Jesus, could she have a bigger ass?” Daphne asked loudly from behind us. Her teammates giggled.

I flinched at Daphne’s words and glanced at Stacey, concerned that she might have overheard Daphne’s ringing voice. But Stacey was already preparing to serve again and didn’t glance toward the stands.

“It is true, though,” Genevieve murmured in my ear. “Stacey takes after her mother, Nancy. They have the same build.” She nodded in the direction of a pear-shaped woman standing by the fence, watching the match intently with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Genevieve, you’re as bad as the girls,” Ingrid chided.

“No, I’m not. She can’t hear me.”

“I manned a table with Nancy at the school bake sale last year, and I think she ate half of the cupcakes,” Emma said, her voice low.

Genevieve and Ingrid both laughed, but I cringed at their harsh words. Even if Nancy couldn’t hear them, it seemed petty and mean. The fact that there was an element of truth to their barbed comments—Nancy Yang was rather overweight and, in her oversize T-shirt and shorts, was nowhere near as attractive or glamorous as the three women flanking me—made it even worse. How could these women, who had been so kind and welcoming to me, be so casually cruel about others?

Alex lifted her index finger to indicate that the last ball Stacey hit had sailed long.

“It’s match point for Alex,” Genevieve said.

“That wasn’t out!” Nancy Yang called out indignantly. “It was on the line!”

“Spectators can’t make line calls,” Coach Townsend said. From his bored tone, I guessed this wasn’t the first time he’d had to admonish a parent for trying to interfere in a match.

“But she’s cheating!” Nancy Yang insisted, her voice shrill and loud. “That’s not fair! She shouldn’t be able to cheat her way onto the team!”

I straightened in my seat, flushed with anger at this woman’s ugly attack on my daughter. A moment earlier, I’d felt sorry for her. That was now replaced by a deep maternal rage. I looked over at Alex, worried that the catcalling had upset her, but she was cool and calm as she waited for Stacey’s next serve. When the ball came toward her, she whipped her racket back and smacked a winner down the line.

“She did it!” Genevieve exclaimed. “She won!”

Emma squeezed my hand. “Good for her!”

I wanted to whoop but managed to contain myself. Alex would be mortified. My daughter walked to the net, looking composed, as she waited to shake Stacey’s hand. Stacey, however, had thrown her racket back against the fence in a fit of temper, while her mother descended on Coach Townsend, still loudly disputing Alex’s line call on the previous point.

“Yeah, like we’d want that hot mess on the team,” one of the teenagers sitting behind us said.

“I don’t blame her,” Daphne said loudly. “Bad line calls piss me off too.”

“Was that ball out? I couldn’t see it,” one of the other girls asked.

“Questionable,” Daphne said. “Possibly shady.”

I clenched my fists so hard, my fingernails cut into my palms. I hated that Alex’s victory would be tainted in any way. I wanted this to be a moment of pure, unassailable joy for her. And anyway, the ball had been out . . . hadn’t it? I was almost sure it had. And why wasn’t Genevieve correcting her daughter? She seemed oblivious to Daphne’s behavior.

Mean girls, I thought again.

Alex was still standing at the net, waiting to shake Stacey Yang’s hand, but Stacey had instead stalked off the court to join her mother in shouting at Coach Townsend. Alex looked over at me and shrugged, obviously not sure what to do. Finally, she went to the bench at the side of the court to pack up her racket and other gear.

“Oh, my God,” Emma breathed. “Drama.”

“Leave it to Nancy to make a scene,” Ingrid said.

Alex walked off the court and headed toward me. My heart swelled at the sight of my daughter, looking happy and confident for the first time in months.

“Yay!” I said, standing once she’d reached the bleachers. “You were fantastic!”

“She wouldn’t shake my hand,” Alex said softly, glancing back at Stacey.

“Don’t worry about it.” Genevieve stood and gave Alex a quick hug. “Congratulations, honey! We’re so glad you made the team!” She turned. “Daphne, take Alex to Coach’s office so you can help her find a uniform.”

“Because that’s my job?” I heard Daphne mutter. I glanced back and saw her rolling her eyes at Shae, and some of my joy at Alex’s victory dimmed. I’d wanted her to win, of course. But that victory was going to keep her near this trio of girls.

That thought caused a sliver of icy fear to slither through me.



That night, while Alex was upstairs in her room, working on an English essay, I stood in our new living room, which still felt bare and unfamiliar. I hadn’t had a chance to hang pictures yet, and I needed to purchase potted orchids and scented candles to warm the room up.