Chapter Fifteen Juliette
FIFTEEN JULIETTE
Sitting on a bench and watching her sister lose is not Juliette’s definition of a good time.
It’s only marginally worse than getting interviewed in between sets and asked how she feels about her teammates.
She tries to stick to light trash talking about the blue team, but the interviewers make thinly veiled comments about playing with Lucky Luca, her rival.
Potentially something more, a journalist threw out casually.
Juliette brushes it off as best she can but makes an effort to praise Kacic’s enthusiasm in cheering for their team.
By the end of the match, annoyance is bubbling beneath her skin. Claudia, at least, is in surprisingly good spirits as she comes off the court. Juliette follows her back into the locker room.
“I can’t believe how rusty I am,” Claudia says as she slides her bag onto the bench and strips her dress off. Even though the event is held indoors, it’s humid and hot on court.
“Remi is hard to beat on this surface. Her serve is too good,” Juliette says, and Claudia shrugs.
“Are you ready to play with Lucky Luca?” Claudia’s mouth quirks into a playful smirk.
At the mention of Kacic’s name, Juliette’s stomach flips.
Juliette has done her best to ignore Kacic throughout the afternoon.
On changeovers, when Claudia collapsed onto the bench and sucked down water, Juliette had leaned over the bench to try to give her tips for the next games against Remi.
Kacic had hovered on Claudia’s other shoulder, suggesting similar tactics, but Juliette had avoided giving her more than a few sidelong glances.
Not that it had worked. Remi Rowland’s serve could not be touched, and it was hard to win a match without any sniff of a break point.
“We’re gonna kick their asses,” Juliette says, tossing Claudia another towel.
Claudia yanks her hair out of its tight bun and spirals fall around her face, clumped and damp with sweat. “Oh, are you now? Are you two on talking terms?”
Juliette shrugs, hoping she’s kept her face neutral, even though she’s definitely thinking about the heat of Luca’s skin against her palm, the curve of her breast as she cupped it…
Feels good, doesn’t it?
Juliette’s cheeks flush at her own audacity.
Claudia grins. “Good luck, Jules.” She disappears into the showers, and Juliette returns to the court where Zoe is warming up against Octavia.
To the left is a designated area for both teams. No one is sitting on the blue side.
They’re probably still in the locker room with Remi.
On their couch, Kacic sits alone. She is a bright spot in a red tracksuit.
Her knees bounce up and down. Juliette sits down, leaving a cushion between them.
“How good are you at doubles?” Juliette asks.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees one of the cameras swivel to stare at them.
Kacic shrugs. “Fine. I don’t like being at the net.”
Juliette fights against a sigh. “Which side do you prefer?”
Kacic glances at her sidelong and shrugs again. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Fine. You take deuce. I’m left-handed and your backhand is better,” Juliette says, shifting to lean against the armrest. It’s going to be an incredibly long day.
Juliette watches Zoe win from the locker room as she stretches out before her match. It’s a tough match, and Juliette feels strange about rooting against Octavia, but at least their team has a point now.
Kacic emerges in her red tennis dress and visor, her braided ponytail swinging over her shoulder. She pulls her jacket on to keep her muscles warm. “Ready?” Juliette asks, focusing back on her reflection as she ties her headband tight around her forehead.
“As I’ll ever be,” Kacic says. She fiddles with her sweatbands, making sure they’re covering Juliette’s name on her wrist.
Juliette doesn’t know what to say to break this awkward tension lying between them.
Maybe she should mention Kacic’s sunburn and how perfectly it’s healed.
Discomfort twists in Juliette’s throat at the thought.
That would make it even more awkward. So far, they’ve done a great job at pretending that night never happened.
She could say something about playing doubles, but they both prefer singles.
So, in the end, she says nothing at all.
Juliette drags herself onto the court, dread making her feet heavy and her shoulders slump. She breathes in deep, trying to harness the electric energy of the crowd.
She doesn’t say anything to Kacic as they stand together for the coin toss. She gestures to Kacic to decide whether she wants heads or tails. The coin glints in the light, landing on heads when Kacic had chosen tails—of course.
Remi grins at them, deciding that they’ll serve first. Juliette barely restrains sticking her tongue out at Remi as they go back to the baseline for the warm-up.
The announcer goes over each of their achievements and Juliette shanks a forehand into the crowd at the mention of Kacic’s Australian Open title.
She holds up her hand in apology at Remi and ignores the smirk on her face.
The umpire calls time and Juliette positions herself at the net. It takes all of her energy not to look back at Kacic. Instead she focuses on Remi and Nadia. They’re a comical pair, because Remi is so much taller than the other girl, so she has to bend her head, hand over her mouth, to talk to her.
Remi’s serve is blistering, but Kacic manages to block the ball back, popping it over Nadia’s head.
Juliette freezes as Remi moves for the ball, smacking a forehand straight at Juliette.
Her instincts keep her from being bludgeoned in the shoulder.
The ball clips off the edge of her racket and sinks into the bottom of the net.
Juliette swings around. “Sorry,” she mutters to Kacic as she passes. She can’t even look at her. First point and she can’t even hit a reaction volley. She can almost see her father typing poor volley footwork in a document.
This is an exhibition match, it shouldn’t matter. But as Juliette bounces on her toes at the baseline she realizes she wants to impress Kacic. The thought is so stupid that she wants to smack herself in the face. She is supposed to have fun.
Juliette shoves her thoughts away as Remi’s first serve sails out. The second kicks up into her forehand, but she manages to tick it down the line. Nadia moves, angling a volley at Kacic’s feet to win the point.
At least Juliette isn’t the only one who is uncomfortable at the net.
As they pass each other, Kacic holds out her hand. Juliette hesitates, surprised by the gesture. High fives are a normal gesture for a doubles team, but Juliette doesn’t know how to make her hand move.
Kacic drops her hand and doesn’t look at her as she moves to the baseline.
Juliette’s heart sinks and she’s so unfocused on the next point that she misses another volley into the net because she didn’t move in enough.
Remi aces Juliette to win their first game and she tries not to stomp over to the bench.
“I’ll serve first,” Kacic says as they stand at the bench and take quick sips of water.
“Fine,” Juliette grumbles, waiting for Remi and Nadia to pass them as they go to the opposite side of the court. Jealousy slinks in Juliette’s stomach as she watches them giggle together.
Juliette jogs toward their side of the net, spinning her racket in her hand.
“Hey!” Kacic says and Juliette looks up at her.
Kacic gestures to the ball kid for the balls. “Look, you’re good at the net, Juliette.” Juliette swallows, falling still as Kacic’s hazel eyes land on her. “Trust yourself. You know how to volley. You’ve practiced for this.”
Kacic’s gaze is sweetly earnest. She believes in Juliette, and that warms Juliette from the inside out, chasing away all the jealousy.
“I got it. Thanks, though,” Juliette says, starting to turn away.
“Juliette.”
She spins on her heel. “What now?”
Kacic frowns, covering her mouth with the ball. “I’m going to serve down the center. You cover the center of the court, okay?”
“Got it,” Juliette says and holds out her fist for Kacic to bump. She does it and sparks jolt up her arm briefly.
It doesn’t matter because Kacic hits an ace.
“Nice serve,” Juliette says once she’s back at the baseline with Kacic.
“Thanks. I’ll try to do it again.”
“You got this,” Juliette says, even though the words feel foreign in her mouth. Kacic blinks, biting her lower lip briefly.
Juliette tries not to think of Kacic’s mouth as she goes to the net again. Instead, she thinks of Kacic’s words. It fills her with a strange, warm confidence. And when Nadia hits a sharp backhand at Juliette, she steps into the ball and angles it away beautifully.
“Knew you could do it,” Kacic says, and when she holds out her hand this time, Juliette smacks it with conviction. Maybe they aren’t so terrible at this.
Juliette puts away two more volleys to even the games at one all. “We’re not doing too bad for a couple of singles players,” Juliette says as Luca falls into step with her at the back of the court.
“No, but we’d be done for if we were playing doubles specialists.” Kacic plucks at her strings.
Nadia holds easily with Remi up at the net to put their returns away with ease and Juliette nearly running into Kacic to get a ball that was not on her side.
As they go back to the bench, Juliette shrugs off the last game. They haven’t been broken yet, at least, and Remi and Nadia haven’t run away with the set, even though they’re much more coordinated.
They sit, a respectable distance between them, but Juliette’s skin prickles from being so close to Kacic. She can ignore the feeling on the court because she’s focused on playing, but it’s harder here without distractions. Juliette cracks her banana open and pops half of it into her mouth.
“Any words of wisdom for my serve?” she teasingly asks Kacic.
“Hit it hard?” Kacic says, her voice ticking up in a question. Her eyes are a little wide as she glances at her.