Clean Point

43 Scottie

43

Green Light – LORDE

The press room was packed. Rumours had gotten out that there was some sort of announcement to come from Nico, and it seemed like half of London wanted in on the news.

I’d been in the box when he fell on the grass, and when I heard that gut-wrenching sound of pain, something … changed. As if my world narrowed in on that moment, watching him fall to the grass and seeing him at risk of losing his Wimbledon success made me feel like my chest was being squeezed too tightly for my heart.

And when he got up, playing through his obvious pain, my entire world reorganized itself and I realized how Nico had been able to weasel his way into my life, meaning more to me than a mixed partner is supposed to.

Seeing him in his locker room after, with that look of defeat and desperation spread across not only his, but his team’s face, it wasn’t hard to see how close he was to having it all snatched away.

It was easy, easier than it really should’ve been, to tell him to let the mixed go. I could almost feel the Scottie from two years ago, the girl who wouldn’t throw away a chance at her own title, revolting against the idea. But he meant too much to me now to hold him back.

‘Hi everyone, if you could give me a minute, I’ve got an announcement to make.’ Nico’s voice echoed around the packed press room as he sat at the front. I was standing to the side, safely out of sight while him and Jon took on the press junket.

His words did little to quell the racket of questions being shouted his way. I could hardly make out a single word except the occasional mention of my own name that I knew couldn’t mean anything good.

‘Excuse me,’ he said firmly again, his voice almost booming through the speakers. With that, the press fell quiet, calming as they settled into their seats.

‘Thank you,’ Jon said, taking over. ‘If you can please give us a few minutes for an announcement, then we will allow some time for some questions.’

Then it was Nico’s turn. I watched as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the lump in his throat bobbing with nerves. I smiled softly, as if trying to soothe him from the sidelines, calm him so he could do this.

I hadn’t wanted him to feel bad for having to drop out. There would be other titles, other Wimbledons. I’d come back stronger next year because of everything he taught me. They wouldn’t know what hit them.

‘Over my fifteen-year career, it has been my dream of achieving the men’s single title here at Wimbledon. I think we can all agree, this is a special event. I don’t think we can quite explain the effect it has on us players as a whole, but I think it’s fair to say we all dream of winning this title.’ The crowd was hanging on his every word, waiting for his announcement.

‘For the last year, I’ve had one goal, and that was to take part and win this title …’ Nico’s head turned and his eyes found me standing at the sideline, a warmth igniting in the usual cloudy grey colour, an emotion I was still trying to put my finger on when I realized that something had changed for him too.

‘And that’s still very much the same. Except it won’t be the singles title I’m competing in.’

My legs went weak under my weight, and I had to grab onto a chair for support, my hands gripping the metal back so I wouldn’t fall to the ground.

And then he said the words. ‘I am pulling out of the singles title completely, in order to focus my efforts on the mixed doubles title.’

And the room immediately erupted into chaos, reporters standing up out of their chairs once again, yelling questions, but it was all a distant noise to me as I processed what Nico had done.

He had pulled out of the singles. The last title he had dreamed of winning. For me?

When I finally had enough control over my body to focus, I found Jon and Nico deep in conversation, Jon’s hand outstretched covering the microphone so their conversation wasn’t picked up. Jon retreated into his chair, his face pale and features still wide with shock. He swallowed, before speaking to the microphone, ‘I guess we will take some questions now.’

The room did little to calm, so it took more than a moment for them to be able to pick somebody out of the crowd. When they did, Nico’s face twisted with recognition. I moved forward to see it was the man from The Daily Tea.

My eyes rolled at the sight of the journalist, an impulse far beyond my control.

‘Is this change of heart anything to do with your doubles teammate, Scottie Sinclair, and the rumoured romance between the two of you?’ His question was predictable from a tabloid. Who on earth let this man go first?

Nico leaned back in his chair, his smirk ever telling. ‘No comment.’

The man shook his head in disappointment, and I couldn’t help but grin at Nico’s delight in denying him an answer.

Another reporter was picked, and someone else in the crowd stood up. ‘What’s your plan for taking on the rest of the competition? Is there a strategy?’

Nico took a moment, before slowly sitting up, leaning into the microphone, his words almost a challenge as he said them. ‘The strategy is to win.’

Something grew inside of me, pride that he was back to his normal grumpy self after so much stress with his knee. He was being cocky, annoying and … I couldn’t love him more.

Love. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, my head woozy. Months with him on a court, spent teasing and toying and playing. I’d learned so much from him, and somewhere along the way, I’d found my old self again. He’d brought me back. And I loved him for it.

Jon picked a final reporter, obviously seeing that they wouldn’t be getting much out of Nico after his bombshell announcement. ‘Arguably, nobody expected you to do this well on a comeback. Some might say you’re a favourite, given your past efforts in other competitions.’

Nico looked confused between Jon and the crowd, before asking into the microphone. ‘Is there a point to this?’

‘What’s behind your motivation to give up the more prestigious title for a mixed double?’

The crowd fell silent, waiting to see if he would give them an answer. They could speculate all they wanted, but only he could give his reason.

Instead, he leaned close to the microphone, and with a smile aimed directly at me, he repeated, ‘No comment.’

We were swept out of the room, the noise of the reporters louder than it had been as they desperately shouted their questions at him.

All I registered was the rough brush of his palm against mine, our fingers intertwined, as he stormed from the stage. Jon led the way down the hall back to his locker room, not even waiting until we were alone before he exploded.

‘What happened to what we discussed, Nico?’ he yelled, a couple of paces ahead of us in the hallway.

‘I did what I thought was right.’

Jon turned around, the frustration clear on his face. ‘All this time it’s been the singles title. You’ve made it clear several times that’s all you’ve ever wanted.’

There was a moment of tension before Nico simply shrugged. ‘Things changed.’

Jon looked between us, his teeth gritted as he searched for answers. He let out a loud sigh, pushing open the door to Nico’s locker room. We took a moment to breathe, my eyes going to Nico only to find his already on me. His hand squeezed mine, the reassurance silent but clear. I smiled softly in reply, still processing everything.

Had that really happened? Was it a heat-of-the-moment decision, or had he always planned this? Just as I formed a tangible string of words to say, Jon’s voice boomed from inside the room, pulling us both in.

‘Have you at least thought this through?’ We found Jon pacing across the room, and as I closed the door to give us some privacy, his next question went right through me. ‘Is it just for Scottie?’

I almost froze, the same concern filling my brain. I knew how important this was to Nico, felt his anxiety around his injury and the ticking clock he couldn’t help but be haunted by. I wanted this for him, this last title, but … had he given it up for me?

‘Of course it’s not only for her,’ Nico burst, just as I shrank into a forgotten corner of the room. ‘But it’s because of her I even made it here. And my chances are better in the doubles, we make a great team.’

‘I agree, you obviously do make a good team, but—’

‘Then what’s the deal? I’m still in the competition.’

‘You had a chance of winning that singles title. One last chance …’ Jon trailed off, aware of how important this was to Nico. He’d been on this journey with him a lot longer than I had been and shared this goal. ‘I don’t want you to regret throwing that work away,’ Jon finished, managing to stay still.

Nico stood solemn, his shoulders pulled back as he processed what Jon said. For a moment, I worried that he had realized the full extent or what he’d done, what he’d given up. Like he’d been in a dream state and had woken up to absolute horror. But when he spoke, it was calm and resolved.

‘I would’ve regretted staying in the singles,’ he explained. ‘It might’ve finally happened, but I was also sure it was going to break me. It … it didn’t feel right when everyone was telling me to quit doubles. The singles – I’ve been in that fight before. I know what it takes to even get to that final, and I’m not sure I’ve got it.’

His admission broke my heart. This last goal he had for his career, the dream, and realizing that it wasn’t going to happen for him. But also, the pride in knowing his capacity, in putting his body first when for so long, he’d abused it, pushed it far past its limit as we all did at this level of sport.

It was not normal what we pushed our bodies through, the intense training in order to reach the pinnacle of human athleticism. And then to realize we still came up short.

‘But there’s a reason you pitched doubles in the first place. Whether you realize it at the time or not, you were giving me a lifeline.’ He looked away from Jon, his gaze meeting mine again and his smile warmed me from the inside out.

Jon went quiet, his eyes assessing between the two of us, before he shook his head, mumbling to himself. ‘I knew I’d regret putting the two of you together.’

I fight a grin across my lips. ‘It was your idea.’

‘At least this means you both still have a chance to compete.’ Something about him relaxed, as if he began to accept what was right in front of his eyes. ‘You know, you both might be taking this PR campaign for ELITE a little too close to heart. We did specify that it didn’t have to be real.’

My grin only grew. ‘Again, your idea.’

The hidden smile on Nico’s lips confirmed the joke was funny, but Jon was apparently in anything but a laughing mood.

‘I am happy for you guys, I swear. But whatever this is, it’s giving me a migraine trying to untangle. Head back to the hotel.’ His attention turned to Nico. ‘Make sure you ice that knee, and I’ll catch up with you later to go over the plan.’

We both nodded, not wasting another moment before we disappeared out of the room.