Clean Point

42 Nico

42

I Don’t Want To Watch The World End With Someone Else – Clinton Kane

I knew from the grim look on Jon and Ethan’s face as they stood in my locker room what was about to come next. Ethan was already here when I limped off the court, ready to help me cool down post-match, but his face had dropped into concern when he saw my grimaced, hissing through teeth, gritted reaction to his basic massage and stretches.

‘I’m sorry, but you can’t go on. We need to give you sufficient time to heal this knee, and playing in both competitions is untenable.’ Ethan’s words were not a shock, but nonetheless, I was determined to fight them.

‘Look, I fell—’ I started to reason, sitting on the wooden bench opposite the lockers, hoping that I could convince them again that I was up to this. Give me an ice bath, some painkillers and an evening of rest and I’d fight through tomorrow.

‘Nico.’ Jon pulled my attention, his head leaning toward Ethan as he stood in the opposite corner of the room. ‘It’s time to listen.’

I stared at him for a long moment, the instinct to argue raging inside of me. A snarling beast who refused to accept defeat. The trained athlete who despised any sign of weakness and fought back in the face of failure.

Somehow, I swallowed it down, and looked to the physio, who continued, ‘The joint has significant trauma. I’m not sure I’d even recommend carrying on in either competition.’

‘We can announce you and Scottie are pulling out of the doubles at the press conference next. Then you rest up tonight and with what little game is left, you finish and win tomorrow.’ Jon laid out the plan as if it was that easy to accept.

I shook my head, hanging my head as I gripped the edge of the bench so tightly, I was sure the wood would splitter. ‘Can’t we wait and see how it goes tomorrow?’

‘We need to make a decision; we can’t keep avoiding it.’ Jon sighed, his tense body crumbling inward. ‘I know it’s important to you, Nico, but this is what is best. It’s better for you, for your career, to take part in the men’s single competition. The doubles were always supplementary.’

‘I can’t.’ My memory replayed that night back in Rhodes when she told me what her father did to her. How her face was etched with worry that I might not believe her, that she had kept all that pain wrapped up inside and had taken her revenge any other way she could. And this competition, training with me, partnering up for doubles, that had all been part of the revenge that still allowed her to come back and do what she loved. I gritted my teeth with a fresh determination. ‘I can’t let her down like that.’

There was a knock, and the door swung open, Scottie sticking her head in. She scanned the room quickly, seeing Jon and Ethan taking in the mood of the room. Then her gaze turned to me, and I knew it was written all over my face – the guilt twisting up my gut.

‘Can we have a moment, guys?’ She stepped inside, holding the door open for Ethan and Jon. Without so much as another word, they shuffled out and closed the door behind them.

One long silence filled up every corner of the room as her eyes analysed the entire length of my body. She stood almost glued to the wall opposite me, biting her lip.

Then, with a tender look, she asked in her usual light tone, ‘So, how badly fucked is your knee?’

I rolled my eyes as I tried to shrug her concerns off. ‘It’s fine, really, it’s—’

‘It’s lucky you’re walking without a zimmer frame, old man,’ she interrupted, that tender smile turning sneaky. I raised an eyebrow at her favourite nickname for me.

‘Really? That’s making a comeback here?’

She raised her shoulders. ‘Hey, I’m about to get all self-sacrificial here. I can say what I want.’

I pushed down the shame, hating that she knew so easily what they were trying to get me to do. Meanwhile, I was still unwilling to accept that this was how it had to be. ‘What about what I want?’

She sighed, shaking her head. ‘What you want is probably stupid.’

My brows furrowed in confusion. ‘Did Jon tell you?’

‘He didn’t have to,’ she said. ‘I knew what I was signing up to with you and your damn knee. Are they telling you to pull out of both competitions?’

‘Just the doubles.’

‘They think you still have a chance with the singles?’ she asked, and I nodded apprehensively. A chance might be stretching the definition of what they thought I had. ‘That’s great.’ She smiled, her words sounding so easy. It cut me to my core, seeing how genuinely pleased she was for me, when all I could think about was what this meant for her.

‘I want to give it more time.’

She tilted her head forward, her voice going low and serious. ‘It’s not going to get better, Nico. You need to prioritize. A shot at the singles title was your goal; you have a chance here.’

‘We don’t know that it’s one over the other,’ I argued, beginning to feel more and more unhinged, as if I was holding onto this argument by my fingertips. ‘Rest and ice packs really help take down the swelling.’

‘You know yourself, that’s not enough,’ she said, before adding, ‘Let’s walk this through logically. You can finish the game off tomorrow, and then it’s the semis and the finals, with a good number of days to rest and heal in between. You’ve beaten Oliver before, you nearly did today, and you can do it tomorrow.’ Scottie took a beat, some time to recollect her thoughts before she pressed on. ‘But if you throw the doubles competition in there, you won’t have any rest days. It’s twice the work, and the competition is tough. Yes, I’m there, too, but the singles competition is where you shine. You said yourself, it’s the one title you don’t have. I know how much that means to you.’

‘But … you,’ was all I managed to say before she waved a hand in the air, ignoring my concerns.

‘Respectfully, fuck me.’ She smirked. ‘Do you think I’d give up the singles title for you?’

I considered her question for a moment, the answer deserving more time than a simple ‘no’. I searched through every moment with her, seeing her competitive side on the court, knowing how deep that ran in all of us. We give up so much for the chance at a win, for five minutes of glory before we do it all again. It’s not about the fame, or the money.

It’s the moment you know you’ve reached the pinnacle, the thrill and relief when you beat everyone to the top. That feeling is addictive.

Part of me wondered if that was why her dad was still so invested in her. That if his time on top was over, at least he could still have the closest thing by succeeding through her. Like an addict, willing to do anything for their next hit. But Scottie, she isn’t anything like her father. Instead, I found the answer in her blue eyes. Ignoring her cocky smile, the slight playful mood she was using to mask, and there, the truth lay.

If this was as important to me as I knew it was for her, then she would not hesitate. She would fight for me, even if it meant giving up something, even if I didn’t want or ask her to.

She was strong, and kind, and selfless in that way, and I loved her for it.

Loved her. Period.

I couldn’t help but pull her back into my arms, squeezing her tight as I pressed my lips to her temple, basking in the feel of her body against mine, the sweet scent of her shampoo surrounding me. Her arms wrapped around my waist, her head nuzzled under my chin.

‘I’ll still be here for you,’ she promised. ‘Your lucky charm.’

My fingers found her chin, tilting her face up to meet mine. ‘Good, because I’m really not letting you go anywhere without me anymore.’

I watched her expression change as my words sunk in, the worry lines smoothing out, her bright smile returning as my heart skipped a beat. And then my lips meet hers, unable to hold back from her for another moment.