Chapter Twelve Juliette
TWELVE JULIETTE
Juliette doesn’t go to the beach. The idea of having to interact with others when her head is stuffed to the brim with confusing thoughts of Kacic seems like torture. Especially when Kacic is going to be there, sweaty and wearing hardly any clothes.
Instead, she finishes editing her photos and shoots them off to Livia, who responds within nanoseconds with the winky face emoji.
Then she spends time on the loungers by the pool, soaking in the sun.
She must have fallen asleep, because she wakes up to the sound of laughter carrying up the path, and the sun has slunk beneath the trees, honeyed orange rays blinding her.
She rubs her eyes and sits up in time to see Leo carrying Octavia on his back. She is grinning more than Juliette has seen in months, and her usually straight ironed glossy hair is curling from the sea salt. Claudia has her arm threaded through Remi’s, and they skip toward the house.
Zoe is talking to Kacic, and she says something that makes Kacic laugh. A sharp feeling carves through Juliette’s stomach, like she’s missed a stair. Kacic’s smile is luminous, something carefree in the honking noise of her laughter.
“Jules!” Octavia shouts, sounding surprised. “Why didn’t you come to the beach?” She hops off Leo’s back, but he wraps his arm around her to keep her close.
“Didn’t want to get sandy,” Juliette says, which is partly true.
“Where is a great place to eat? I’m starving,” Remi says, untangling herself from Claudia. She sits down on the lounger next to Juliette and flops dramatically across her lap. “I’m slowly dying,” she says, laying a hand over her forehead and lolling her tongue out of her mouth.
Juliette considers shoving her off, but she pinches her side instead. Remi squeaks, jolting upright. “You’ll be fine until we shower,” Juliette says, brushing a patch of sand off Remi’s shoulder.
“It has to be a vegan place,” another voice says.
Juliette twists around to see the final member of the team slip onto the patio.
Chen Xinya is the oldest player at this Cup at twenty-eight years old, and she’s been on tour since she was thirteen.
Like many top players, her meteoric rise to the top has been well-documented, especially as one of the best Chinese players in decades.
Then, at twenty-two, she dropped out of the tour and into oblivion.
No one knew what happened. And no one dared to ask when she returned two years later with chopped bleach-blond hair, dozens of piercings, and a completely new team.
Now, Xinya seems to be back to her natural color and minimal jewelry, with her long, silky black hair and only an industrial earring remaining in her left ear. More recently, her ankle has healed well from when she twisted it against Juliette in Guadalajara.
As Claudia and Octavia argue about which restaurant will be best for all the dietary restrictions they have, Juliette leans back and catches sight of Kacic standing a bit apart from the group.
She is looking into the rippling pool water, facing away from Juliette.
Kacic’s whole back is red, from the dip in her spine up to the nape of her neck.
Clearly, she hadn’t taken Juliette’s warning about sunscreen seriously.
Serves her right.
Still, Juliette can’t help but feel the odd desire to cup her hand over the back of her neck, to feel the heat. Perhaps dig her thumb in to see Kacic’s skin blanch white and count how long it takes to return to the burnt ruddy color.
Kacic turns and Juliette looks away before she is caught staring.
LUCA
She should have listened to Ricci.
The Italian sun is brutal. She thought she’d be fine with the sunscreen she’d slathered on after her shower that morning, but Luca is burnt to a crisp.
Regardless, the sun has sunk pleasantly into her skin, warming her muscles and loosening the tension from her body. She loves the way the sun glazes her skin, even if she knows it’ll hurt later. By the time they reach the restaurant, her skin is uncomfortably tight.
Luca can’t remember the last time she was on vacation. And while this technically isn’t a vacation, it certainly feels like one. She finds herself between Chen Xinya and Octavia Ricci at dinner, the food and wine flowing as everyone talks over each other.
After the first course, Octavia leans into her space. “I am sorry if my sister’s been rude,” she says, grabbing a hunk of Parmesan focaccia and delicately ripping off a piece before dipping it into a bowl of herbs and olive oil.
Luca struggles to find words, and Octavia takes her silence with a wry curl of her lips.
She thinks of earlier, when Ricci had encouraged her to take a sip of her coffee.
It had seeped across her tongue, bold but sweet.
Slightly bitter, but not enough to be unpleasant.
That’s what Ricci’s personality is like, but she can’t explain that to her sister.
“She’s fine,” Luca says finally, wishing Xinya would lean over and save her from having to talk to Octavia.
Unfortunately, Xinya isn’t very talkative on the best of days and ignores her.
“Look, I know it’s none of my business,” Octavia continues, pausing to dust bread crumbs off her hands, “but for what it’s worth, she isn’t all bad and I hope you don’t think less of us because of her. Juliette is…” She trails off with a wince.
Perhaps she’s had too much wine.
“Well, you and Claudia don’t have to worry. I can be an adult and professional, even if she can’t,” Luca says, reaching for her water.
Octavia sighs. In the low lamplight of the restaurant, her eyes are even more piercingly green, especially with her flutter of ink-dark lashes and smoked-out eyeliner.
It’s hard to look away from her. She has an intensity that doesn’t fade, even when she’s off the court.
“Good,” she says, finally looking away from Luca and releasing her from the gravity of her gaze.
Luca glances down the table at Ricci. She’s deep in conversation with Remi, listening intently and then chuckling at something she’s said. As if she knows Luca is looking, her head twists and she catches Luca’s eye.
Ricci raises an eyebrow and Luca bites the inside of her cheek, looking away sharply.
“Octavia,” Luca says, curiosity outweighing her anxiety.
Octavia cocks her head, brows lifting in silent question.
“You were saying that Juliette was something. What were you going to say?”
Octavia’s expression remains smooth and unreadable. Her gaze flicks over Luca’s shoulder to the end of the table, presumably to her younger sister. It’s quick, subtle, and if Luca wasn’t staring at Octavia, she would have missed it.
“She’s complicated.” Octavia pauses, pursing her glossy lips.
“No, that’s not quite it. Juliette has always been a little different.
Maybe because she’s younger, maybe because she’s been babied, maybe because she was born that way.
She may not act like it, but she’s sensitive, and she doesn’t like that about herself. ”
Luca furrows her brow, unsure of why Octavia is telling her this.
Perhaps this is how siblings behave with other people, spilling details about their personalities without thinking.
Luca wouldn’t know; Nicky is the closest thing she has to a sibling.
“Okay,” she says slowly, and Octavia gives a little shake of her head, pieces of her bangs falling across her cheek. She brushes them back impatiently.
“Juliette is tough to get to know, Luca. So, don’t feel bad that she won’t let you in.” Octavia gently pats her hand, and when Luca says nothing else, she turns back to Leo.
Luca sips her water, glancing at Ricci again. She looks carefree and happy here. Her head tilts back as she laughs, her eyes scrunching up and her nose doing an adorable little wrinkle. Maybe she shouldn’t find it as endearing as she does, but Luca’s stomach does a funny little flip.
She forces her gaze away. She cannot be distracted by Ricci, not even on vacation.