CHAPTER 18
OLIVIA
Three days at Wilson Academy, and already the place felt like it was shaping me up again.
Amelia Wilson had been nothing but hospitable, she’d set me and my team up with proper quarters on site, quiet and close to the courts, and made sure everything we needed was handled.
More than that, she’d been treating me less like a guest and more like one of her own players.
Somewhere between sessions and shared coffees, we’d even started to feel like friends.
But on court, Amelia was all coach. She was relentless about drilling me back to basics. Toss, timing, footwork, shoulders, nothing escaped her.
“Don’t flick your wrist. Let the motion flow, give your body the lead, not your arm.”
I groaned under my breath but obeyed. Toss, bend, strike. The ball snapped off my racquet cleaner this time, landing where it should.
By the time Amelia finally blew her whistle and dismissed me, I collapsed onto the bench, head tipped back, gulping water like it was the finest champagne. Just as I started to catch my breath, Maddie plopped down beside me with a mischievous look.
“Well, well, look at you. Back to square one with serves, sweating buckets, and Amelia barking in your ear.” She nudged me with her shoulder. “And yet you’re still pretending you’re not distracted.”
I squinted at her. “Distracted by what, exactly?”
Her grin widened. “Oh, come on. Alex. She’s basically on a full break from tennis, running around in triathlons like it’s the most normal thing in the world.”
I keep my face neutral. “She’s… training. Doing her own thing.”
“Mm-hmm,” Maddie said, clearly unconvinced. She leaned in like she was about to reveal state secrets. “Did you know there’s a full race replay on YouTube? Front to back. Commentary and everything. She even bagged a podium.”
I shook my head, a laugh escaping before I could stop it. “Of course you’d know that. You probably have alerts set for her name.”
“Well, someone’s got to keep tabs on your… friend.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to play it cool.
She tossed me a wink before heading back toward the quarters, leaving me with nothing but the sound of bouncing balls.
I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts aside, and followed Dani and Maddie toward our quarters. The sun had dipped a little, casting long shadows across the academy grounds.
As soon as I reached the entrance, Alex and her dad were there, mid-stride, hauling enormous bags that looked like bike cases, the kind built to hold actual racing bikes. Both of them paused, their expressions a mix of surprise and disbelief.
“Olivia?” Miguel said, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t expect to see you here again soon.”
I swallowed, trying to sound casual while my stomach flipped. “Amelia’s helping me work on my serve. Figured I’d come back to the roots before the season really kicks off.”
Alex nodded slowly, looking genuinely impressed. “Makes sense… good call.”
Miguel nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, I'll let you guys catch up and I’ll get these bags and bikes over there.”
Then he heaved the largest of the bike cases onto his shoulder and disappeared down the hallway, leaving the two of us standing there in the lobby.
“So Triathlon now, huh?” I said, trying to break the silence as I gestured toward the massive bike bags.
“Ah, yes. Taking a break from tennis to pursue my Olympic dream.” Alex said with a shrug and a wry smile.
“And you just flew in here to Wilson Academy, with all this gear?” I gestured at the mountain of bags.
“Yeah, we actually just got back from Toulouse. Had a race there yesterday, and now we’re setting up my gear here. We actually have half Olympic size pool here. Makes life easier than hopping between gyms and courses across the city.”
I raised an eyebrow, taking in the sheer size of the bike cases. “Wow… and all this just to train? You’re insane.”
She grinned, tossing a strap over her shoulder. “Hey, at least I don’t have to worry about losing my bike in the lobby.”
I smirked. “True… though knowing you, you’d probably still find a way to trip over it.”
Then she tilted her head, curious. “So… Amelia bossing you around. Feels weird, huh?”
I shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “A little. But it’s good. I mean… after the US Open and all that, I needed a reset. Figured going back to my roots was the safest bet.”
She nodded, crossing her arms. “Yeah, I get that. I mean… look at me. I end up dragging suitcases bigger than me across airports to get here.”
I laughed again. “And here I thought I was the dramatic one.”
“You? Please. Drama doesn’t suit you. You actually came back to focus, not just complain about the serve.” Her grin widened.
I rolled my eyes but felt a warm tug in my chest. “Are you planning on stopping by the courts while I torture myself with basics?”
“Maybe,” she said, smirking. “Maybe just to make sure you’re not slacking. You know… moral support.”
I groaned, though I couldn’t help smiling. “Right. Moral support. Of course.”
“Honestly, you might need it. I’ve seen your serve lately… not that I’m judging.” She leaned closer, smirking.
“Oh, you’re judging,” I shot back. “I can see it in your smirk.”
The moment stretched, lighter than it should’ve been, until the inevitable crept in. We both had places to be, schedules tugging us in opposite directions. With a quick smile that didn’t quite mask the reluctance, I murmured a goodbye and turned away.
As I walked down the hallway, the noise of the lobby faded, replaced by the thud of my heartbeat and the steady scuff of my shoes.
I told myself I’d done the right thing, keeping a little distance, protecting my focus.
But the truth sat heavier than my bag: the distraction I was meant to push away wasn’t some outside noise or media chatter.
It was Alex. Her grin, her teasing, her sheer presence. And if I really wanted to quiet my mind, sooner or later, I’d have to face what that meant.
ALEXANDRA
The pool lights glowed soft blue, rippling shadows against the ceiling as I kicked through another lap. My shoulders burned, but I didn’t stop. Dad always said the grind was in the silence, not the medals.
I surfaced, pushing my goggles up, and for a second my gaze drifted past the glass walls of the academy.
From here, you could almost see the outline of the tennis courts through the trees.
It was late, way too late for anyone sane to still be out there.
And yet… some part of me wondered if Olivia was there.
Nostalgia hit like a sucker punch, the memory of watching her practice serves until her wrist gave out, the way she’d scowl at her own shadow until she got it right.
I sat there for a long minute, legs dangling in the water, fighting the urge to just… wander over. Maybe I’d catch her in the middle of a serve.
I shook my head hard, muttering, “Get a grip, Alex. You’ve got an Asia Tri Cup to qualify for.”
Footsteps echoed faintly across the tiles. I glanced up, and my heart nearly stalled.
I look back and see the girl that has been on my mind the whole time. She froze the moment our eyes met, just as shocked to see me there as I was to see her. It was past eight, the pool area practically deserted.
Olivia’s brows lifted. “What on earth are you doing here this late?”
I try to look casual despite the fact my pulse was hammering. “Training.” I gave her a lopsided grin. “I could say the same to you. Don’t tell me you’ve been serving balls in the dark?”
She exhaled as if she’d been caught. “I just wanted to see what you said, that there’s a swimming pool half the size of the standard Olympic one. Had to check if you were exaggerating.”
I smirked. “And? Do I exaggerate?”
Her gaze flicked to the expanse of water glimmering under the dim overhead lights, then back at me. “Maybe not this time. But you still have a reputation.”
I clutched my chest dramatically. “Ruthless.”
That earned me a small laugh, quiet, but real. She drifted closer, then dropped onto the bench just a few feet from where I sat on the pool’s edge, still dripping in my speedo.
“Doesn’t it get cold?” she asked, glancing at the water beading down my arms.
“Not really. You warm up fast if you’re moving,” I said, then leaned forward, lowering my voice.
The water had started to feel heavy on my skin, so I hauled myself out, grabbing a towel from the chair and wrapping it around me. My legs still dripped onto the tiles, but it felt easier to stand there on even ground with her.
She watched me for a second before her gaze flicked down, then away, as if she’d caught herself. Her voice softened, almost casual, but not quite. “Do you actually like training this much?”
I rubbed the towel over my hair. “Most days, yeah. It’s hard, sure, but it’s… grounding, I guess. When I’m training, it feels like I know who I am.”
Her brows drew together, thoughtful. “So it isn’t just about winning?”
I gave a small laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, I love winning. But it’s more than that. Training, it’s the only part I get to control. Competitions can go sideways… but training? That’s mine. No one else’s.”
She nodded slowly, absorbing it. Then her eyes softened in a way that made my chest ache.
“That sounds… safe. I don’t think I’ve ever thought of it like that.
For me, training is just the thing I have to do to even get a shot at competing.
It’s the pressure. The standard I have to hit just to stay afloat. ”
I tilted my head, watching her. “You don’t love it?”
She gave a small, rueful smile. “I love the game. I love match days, the fight of it, the strategy. But training? It’s like I’m always chasing something just out of reach. And some days it feels like no matter how much I push, I’ll never catch it.”
For a moment, we just sat with that. Her honesty hung between us, raw and unguarded.