Chapter 7
HERE TO TRAIN
Henry and I walk in silence as I lead him toward the entrance. It feels strange to be here again, the place clean, empty, and peaceful. So different from the packed, wild scene it was a few days ago. It’s as if nothing ever happened here.
I can’t say I don’t love the bustle of people coming and going, music pulsing on and off, the cheers, and the sepulchral silence between points. It’s fascinating to see how obedient people can be while watching tennis.
Most of the time.
“Hey, Patty,” I smile, dropping my backpack on the floor and pulling out my venue card to place it on the counter.
“Oh, hi, Miss Freeman!” She nervously wets her lips, glancing at Henry with a smile but not taking my card.
“This is Henry, my new coach,” I say, gesturing toward him with my thumb. They greet each other politely, but Henry’s face goes expressionless in record time. “Could you help me get him checked in? I’m guessing he’ll need an access card, too.”
“I’m so sorry, Miss Freeman,” Patty says, tugging her thin, gold-framed glasses off and setting them beside the chunky keyboard on her desk. “Weren’t you notified about the—” She trails off, clearing her throat.
“About what?” I tilt my head, feeling equal parts curiosity and annoyance.
Why can’t she just spit it out?
“I’m afraid you’ve been suspended from training at the NTC,” she finally reveals, her small grayish eyes clouded with discomfort. I can tell she’s not enjoying having to break the news.
“Excuse me?”
I can’t hold back the frustration bubbling up inside. How am I only finding out about this now? It’s embarrassing and so damn unfair. I’ve already been fined, and I’m prepared to pay, but I still need a place to train.
“It’s only for the rest of the year,” she adds, clutching her thin pearl necklace. “You’ll be able to come back in January.”
“Only for the rest—” I cut myself off with a snort and a bitter laugh that barely escapes my throat. “Well, I wasn’t notified about this decision. Where’s Victor? I need to talk to him. This is ridiculous and excessive.”
“Belén,” Henry warns, practically pounding out my name. I glare at him, resisting the urge to shout, Let me be! I know what I’m doing! But I hold back because I’m determined to change my ways. Or I can change starting tomorrow.
He raises one of his thick, dark eyebrows at me, and I let out a breath, heavy with irritation.
“Thank you for letting us know, Patty,” he says, offering her a tight-lipped smile. He picks up my bag from the floor and walks away, leaving me standing there like an idiot.
After nodding at Patty, I grab my access card from the counter and walk away, a lukewarm feeling of powerlessness stirring in my gut. I quicken my pace to catch up with Henry, who’s striding toward the parked SUV.
“Henry!” He’s either ignoring me or seriously needs his hearing checked. “Henry, stop!” He halts but doesn’t turn around, so I step in front of him. “What the hell was that? I was handling it.”
He shakes his head and looks away, biting his lower lip in frustration.
“You’re suspended, Belén. And that woman isn’t responsible for it.
You are. She’s just following orders. There’s nothing you can say to her to make it go away.
The suspension order probably came from the Federation.
And I don’t know who Victor is, but demanding things like that won’t get you far. Trust me.”
Henry takes off his hat, runs a hand through his sweaty hair, and locks eyes with me as he puts it back on. I feel humiliated, angry, and desperate, and I’m not sure if saying anything right now will help.
What I’m sure of is that he needs to stop running his fingers through his hair like that.
“I know you’re used to getting your way, but you have to abide by the GSB’s decisions regarding your behavior. It’s best to comply and let everyone forget about what happened two days ago as quickly as possible. That’s what I would do if I were in your position.”
He steps around me and heads toward the SUV.
“Let’s go. We’re wasting time standing here. We need to find somewhere to train before the morning session bleeds into the afternoon block.”
“And what am I supposed to do now, huh?” I follow him, gesturing wildly at his back like the unhinged person he probably thinks I am. “They’re being too harsh! I’ve never heard of anyone else being suspended from the NTC and—”
I stop mid-sentence when Henry pulls out his phone and makes a call.
This is pointless. Everything’s going to shit.
“Are you even listening to me?”
Tony sees us approaching and steps out to open the door.
“I’m handling this since you don’t seem to be in a position to work around this minor setback,” Henry says.
Minor setback?
I have no place to train until next year, but sure, let’s call it a minor setback.
Tony takes the bag from Henry’s hands, and Henry lifts a finger, signaling me to keep quiet as I open my mouth to keep bitching about the situation.
“Hey, Joe. We have a situation … No, she’s fine …
Belén’s been suspended from the NTC for the rest of the year …
Yeah, this woman Patty just informed her …
Well, I know a place in Tribeca. They’ve got indoor and outdoor courts …
It’s nothing fancy, but I wanted to run it by you … Sounds good … Talk to you later … Bye.”
Henry puts his phone back in his pocket and says, “After you.”
Tony waves me in as I slide into the car in complete silence. Even though I broke my promise to be better and avoid overreacting on the first day of trying, I give myself a second chance. So I bite my tongue and rest my trembling hands on my lap.
Henry leans over the center console to give Tony directions to the Tribeca courts, then throws himself back into his seat. He glances at me with a cocky smile I’ve never seen on his face before and asks, “What’s going on in that head of yours? Any other complaints I should know about?”
I shake my head twice and look away.
“Good girl.”
Son of a …
This place is a mess, or at least it is compared to the NTC. It’s not dirty, but it’s old and neglected. The court lines are at least visible, and the nets look like they were recently replaced, but there’s a moldy, humid smell that clings to my nostrils.
Hopefully, they’ll let us borrow one of the outdoor courts.
“Hey, man!” Henry shouts to a young guy who looks to be in his mid-twenties and is heading our way. He’s tall and slim, with a white cap and straight, dirty blond hair peeking out at the sides.
“Henry?” he says, breaking into a smile and picking up his pace. “It’s been a minute!” He reaches us and greets Henry with a loud handshake, a tight hug, and a few pats on the back. “What happened to your face, bro?”
“Ah, it’s nothing.” Henry frowns and slides a finger over the new scar on his right eyebrow. “A friend’s dog did it back in Chicago.”
A dog? I’m not buying it, and his friend’s reaction suggests he isn’t either, but he doesn’t seem interested enough to press further. It’s annoying how that scar does nothing to mess up Henry’s perfect face. Part of me wishes it did. It’d make looking at him easier.
“Anyway, Jasper, this is—”
“Belén Freeman,” he says with a grin, extending his hand. “After last Sunday, anyone who didn’t know her sure does now. Besides, you never shut up about her growing up.”
“Ah.” Henry clears his throat. “Right, well … same Belén.”
My face doesn’t twitch. Not even a blink. But inside, I’m combusting like a human pressure cooker because what the hell does that mean?
He never shut up about me growing up? Like, in what way?
I risk a glance at Henry, who looks like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole. Good. Let it.
I shake Jasper’s hand and say, “Nice to meet you, Jasper.”
“Nice to meet you too, Belén,” he replies with a grin.
“And congratulations on your Grand Slam debut this year. Your win at Roland Garros was impressive. That approach shot near the end of the third set, right before you took the fourth game, had me on my feet and howling.” Jasper chuckles, crossing his arms. “That’s some great tennis you play.
You have one powerful serve, young lady.
I saw you hitting a hundred and fourteen miles per hour on a couple of serves there and—”
“Easy on the praise, man,” Henry interrupts. “We’ve got a list of things to work on, and her serve is one of them. I don’t need her getting cocky on me.”
“Wait, what?” Jasper asks, looking puzzled. “You’re coaching her?”
“I am,” Henry concedes with a small, tight smile. I can’t tell if he’s excited or annoyed about it. “That is, if we don’t claw our eyes out by the end of today’s training session. Right, Bells?”
He shoots me a smirk, only adding to my confusion.
I’m going nuts with his hot-and-cold energy. One second he’s smiling, the next he’s totally checked out, like on the drive from the NTC. And now he’s cracking jokes and smirking at me?
I’m not emotionally equipped to keep up with him, and not knowing who he is anymore isn’t helping.
I feel torn. Part of me is still crushed, hurt, and furious, while the other part feels a glimmer of hope whenever I catch glimpses of the old Henry.
I want my friend back. But what if the Henry I used to know, the one who left a hole in my chest, is gone?
This is a new Henry, and I can’t decide if I like him or not.
“I’m sorry for meddling,” Jasper chuckles, narrowing his eyes in confusion, “but isn’t Elliot Davis your coach?”
“Used to be,” I reply without a hint of a smile.
I’m deeply hurt that Elliot gave up on me, and the way he did it was absolutely devastating. It left me feeling like the biggest failure and a complete disappointment.
“Well, my buddy Henry here,” Jasper says, pulling Henry in for a side hug, “is going to be a better coach than Elliot ever was, you’ll see.
He’s all about power shots and a real nerd when it comes to body positioning.
Jacques trained him well. Too bad he chickened out of the tour at the last minute. ”