CHAPTER 19
ALEXANDRA
I’d been… surprisingly okay lately. No dramatic meltdowns, no moping in the locker room, just full-on grind mode. Swim-bike-run, repeat. The kind of training where your body aches in places you didn’t know existed, but you still crawl out of bed at dawn.
Okay, maybe not just that. Because every so often, mid-lap or mid-sprint, I’d catch myself sneaking a glance across the academy courts.
And there she’d be. Doing her Olivia thing, looking unfairly good while serving rockets and making footwork drills look like ballet.
She was all focus, all fire, and meanwhile I was over here trying not to trip over my own shoelaces.
From afar. Always from afar. Just like the old times.
Speaking of old times, Cassandra actually flew in earlier this morning.
She popped by the academy straight from the airport to meet with Dad and me.
She wanted to slot in some training blocks with me while she had a window, since she’s got the World Triathlon Championships in a completely different time zone soon.
“Training blocks,” she said, waving her notebook like a weapon.
I groaned dramatically. “Cass, you literally just got off a plane. Don’t you want to, I don’t know, shower? Nap?”
She smirked. “Sleep are for athletes who finish second.”
“Wow. Poetry. Truly inspirational. You should start a podcast.”
Cass flipped the notebook open, already scribbling. “We’ve got three days together before I fly out again. Two long rides, one brick session, and a swim where you don’t fake a cramp and clutch your leg like you’ve been shot.”
“Excuse me,” I said, gasping like I’d been mortally wounded. “That was an authentic cramp. A masterpiece of athletic suffering. If they gave Oscars for training sessions, I’d have three.”
She just gave me one of her classic unimpressed looks. “Save the acceptance speech, Hollywood. Come on, let’s get ready for a run.”
I groaned dramatically again, but she was already lacing up her shoes with a grin that told me I was in for pain and she was going to enjoy every second of it.
Ten kilometers later, I was a heap of sweat and regret, lying there on the track like roadkill. My lungs were on fire, my legs had declared mutiny, and I was convinced my soul had left my body.
“Cassandra,” I wheezed, staring at the sky, “That was not a run. That was a sanctioned attempt on my life. Who even runs at that pace outside of the Olympics?”
Meanwhile, she looked disgustingly fresh. Barely a bead of sweat, hair still neat, like she’d just strolled in from a light jog in the park. She crouched down beside me, grinning.
“Come on, drama queen,” she said, offering me her hand. “Up you get.”
I groaned but let her haul me to my feet, my legs wobbling like spaghetti. She slipped an arm around my shoulder, steadying me as if I were a fragile old lady instead of a supposedly fit athlete.
“Cool down first. We don’t need you collapsing in front of the tennis players. Bad for morale.” she said steering me into a slow walk along the track.
“Bad for my pride, you mean.” My voice came out more like a croak, but she laughed anyway.
We walked in silence for a minute, just the sound of my ragged breathing against her steady rhythm. Like the old days when we used to push each other until one of us dropped, then stick around to drag the other back up again.
“You know,” She said, her tone softening, “I’ve missed this. Us. Training, laughing, nearly killing you.”
“Nearly?” I shot her a sideways glance. “That was a homicide attempt disguised as cardio.”
She smirked. “Seriously though. It’s good to see you like this again. Focused. The Alexandra I knew would never have let herself stay down for long.”
Something in my chest loosened. I hated how much I needed to hear that. “Thanks Cass, that means a lot coming from you.”
We walked a few more paces before she tilted her head, side-eyeing me with that mischievous grin. “So, you’re focused again. Training hard. Looking good.”
“Flattery accepted,” I said, puffing up my chest.
She snorted. “Not just in training. I mean… her.”
“Her who?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. I know that look when you keep sneaking glances across the academy.” She raised an eyebrow.
Heat rushed to my face faster than a sprint finish. “That’s not a look. That’s… strategic observation. I’m just, you know, studying her footwork. For science.”
She burst out laughing, loud enough that a couple of kids turned their heads. “Right. You’ve got it bad. So, what happened? Don’t give me the sugar-coated PR version either.”
I hesitated, chewing the inside of my cheek. But it was Cassandra. She’d known me since I was practically a kid. “We talked. At the pool the other night. I… might’ve said something, and she well, she was honest. Said tennis has to come first for her right now. No distractions.”
She didn’t flinch. She just nodded slowly, like she was piecing it together. “Focused to a fault. Brutally honest, but at least she didn’t string you along.”
“Yeah.” My voice cracked around the edges, and I quickly covered it with a laugh. “Guess I’m just the bench cheerleader.”
She gave me a sideways look. “You’re Alexandra freaking Wilson-Cadiz. If she needs space, give it. If it’s meant to circle back, it will.”
I blew out a breath, still not sure if that comforted or stung.
Then she smirked again, this time softer. “And hey… you should be relieved. My crush on you was way worse.”
My head snapped around. “What?”
She laughed at my face, loud and unapologetic. “Relax. Ages ago. Back when we were juniors, training everyday together, long hours on the bike. You were oblivious, of course. I got over it. Obviously.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” I nearly tripped over my own cooling-down shuffle. “You had a crush on me and just… what? Kept it in a vault? Why didn’t you say anything?”
She gave me a look like I’d asked why water was wet. “Because we were sixteen and already juggling tennis and triathlon like your life depended on it. You couldn’t even remember to eat lunch half the time, Alex. You think I was going to throw feelings at you on top of all that?”
My jaw dropped. “Okay, rude but fair. Still, why not later? You had years.”
“Because,” she said matter-of-factly, “I liked our friendship more than I liked the idea of you running for the hills the second I said something. Plus, you would’ve made it weird. Admit it.”
I opened my mouth, closed it again, then groaned. “...Yeah, I probably would’ve made it weird.”
She smirked, victorious. “Exactly. And look, here we are, still laughing instead of avoiding eye contact at every training camp. So I’d say I made the right call.”
I stared at her, part horrified, part impressed. “You know… I had this tiny, like tiny crush on you too back when we were teenagers.”
She stopped walking, blinked at me. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not!” I said, half-defensive, half-laughing myself. “But then you were constantly swarmed by every triathlon guy at races, like half the men’s field practically lined up to carry your bike for you. I didn’t stand a chance. So, yeah. Got over it.”
She threw her head back, laughing even harder. “Oh my God, Alex. You’re telling me we were just two oblivious idiots crushing on each other and missing the timing completely?”
“Pretty much,” I said, shaking my head. “But honestly, I think I knew, even back then, that we were better as friends. You deserved better than some awkward teenage version of me tripping over my words. And you deserve someone better than me who wouldn’t leave you hanging. I was such a douche.”
Her expression softened, her laugh fading into something gentler. “That’s what I’ve always liked about you. You never think highly of yourself the way I think of you.”
She continued. “Honestly, you’ll always have this part of my heart that’s just… yours. But I’m also glad we never forced it into something it wasn’t meant to be. Because what we have now, it means everything to me.”
I met her eyes, letting the quiet truth sit between us. “I’m glad we found our way back to this.” I gestured lightly between us. “Not the pressure, not the expectations… just us. Friends again. I missed that more than I realized.”
For a moment, she looked at me the way she used to, open, a little vulnerable.
And then, like clockwork, Dad’s voice cut across the track. “Alright! Enough gossiping. Let’s get inside and spin those legs before you both stiffen up!”
“Stationary bikes,” Cassandra sighed dramatically. “My favorite form of torture.”
I grinned, instantly perking up. “Finally, something I can actually look forward to. And you seriously need to up your bike form. Half the time you ride like you’re pedaling a beach cruiser on holiday.”
Cassandra rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. Run done, heart-to-hearts covered, now it was time to do what we did best: sweat it out. Together.
OLIVIA
The sound of the ball cracking off my strings echoed sharp across the court.
Another serve, another target bottle sent spinning violently off its mark.
I lined up again, tossed the ball sky-high, and snapped through with everything I had.
The poor bottle on the service line barely had time to exist before it went flying.
“Olivia,” Coach Dani’s voice cut in, low but firm. “Stop serving like the ball owes you money.”
I dropped my racquet to my side, chest rising and falling. “I’m just… working on power,” I muttered, already bouncing another ball.
“No,” she said flatly, walking across the baseline to stand in front of me. “You’re serving like it’s your enemy. Power is good, but right now you look like you’re trying to decapitate those bottles. What’s going on?”
I swallowed, my gaze betraying me for a split second.
Across the chain-link fence, beyond the rows of courts, the academy’s track was visible.
Alex and Cassandra walking side by side, laughing like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Carefree, in sync, as if the past years hadn’t put oceans between them.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to look back down at the ball in my hand. “Nothing,” I lied.
She tilted her head, arms crossing. “Mhm. Nothing looks a lot like wanting to murder plastic bottles.”
I tried to laugh it off, but it came out hollow. I knew I shouldn’t care. I had no right to. But every chuckle drifting across the track made my grip tighten on the racquet just that little bit more.
Coach Dani finally sighed, stepping closer. “Alright, that’s enough. Take a break. You need to learn how to control the power, Liv. Settle your conflict with the poor plastic bottles before you take their heads clean off.”
Reluctantly, I let the ball drop and walked over to the bench. Sweat clung to my neck, my wrist aching just slightly from the force I’d been putting behind each serve. Maddie was already waiting, like she always was, handing me a cold water bottle with that too-knowing smile.
“Thanks,” I muttered, cracking the cap and gulping it down.
She leaned against the fence, eyes glinting. “You know,” she started, a little too casual, “You’re hitting those serves like the pool incident’s still replaying in your head.”
I gave her a look. “Don’t start.”
Maddie raised her hands in mock surrender, but the little smirk stayed. “What are you planning to do about it?”
“Nothing,” I said finally, the word heavier than I wanted it to be. “I’m setting it aside. I don’t have time for some complication I can’t even navigate properly.”
She studied me quietly, the teasing gone now. “That’s really what you want? To just… bury it?”
“It’s not about what I want. It’s about keeping things simple. Better this way.”
She sighed, shaking her head softly. “You always think you’ve got to protect everyone else from yourself. But sometimes, Liv, not saying anything is the messier choice.”
I busied myself twisting the bottle cap, pretending her words hadn’t landed right in my chest. “Well, lucky for me, I’ve got tennis to keep me distracted.”
“Speaking of which…” Maddie tilted her head. “I've updated your schedule. Asia swing looks brutal. Beijing, Wuhan, Riyadh, back-to-back. And that’s before the sponsor stuff kicks in.”
I groaned, leaning my head back against the bench. “Don’t remind me. I’ve barely wrapped my head around the US Open, and already I’ve got to plaster on a smile for a dozen photoshoots and pretend jet lag doesn’t exist.”
“Hey, you signed up for the glamorous life. Those endorsement deals aren’t going to sell themselves.”
“Yeah, glamorous,” I muttered. “Smiling next to energy drinks I don’t even like, then rushing to practice before anyone notices I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours.”
She nudged me with her elbow. “Come on, you’re not fooling me. Half the time, you actually enjoy it. The clothes, the cameras, don’t even try to act like you don’t.”
I cracked a reluctant smile. “Okay, fine. Maybe a little. But the travel schedule’s insane, Maddie. I just hope I can hold my form through it all. Asia’s where things can really swing the rankings. One bad run and it’s a long way back.”
Maddie’s voice softened. “Then don’t burn yourself out trying to carry everything, feelings included.”
I tipped my head back against the bench, eyes tracing the late-summer sky above the courts. “No promises. But I’ll try.”
“Good. Because Beijing’s coming up fast. First stop in the Asia swing, you’ll want to land there with a clear head, not dragging all this around.”
I groaned softly, letting the water bottle rest against my forehead. “Beijing. Right. Jet lag, new surface, sponsors breathing down my neck, and me pretending I have my life together.”
Maddie smirked. “You’ll survive. You always do. And honestly, China might be the reset button you need. Different country, new vibe, no bottles staring you down from across the net.”
I laughed despite myself, the tension in my chest loosening just a fraction. “Yeah. Maybe Beijing will be kinder to me than New York was.”
Time had its way of blurring.
Two weeks slipped past in a rush of airports and before I knew it the skyline outside my window was no longer Brisbane’s jagged silver but Beijing’s wide sprawl under a pale autumn sky.
I wasn’t murdering bottles anymore. At least not every session. My serve still had bite, but it wasn’t wild rage anymore, it was controlled, focused, and for once, it felt like mine again.
Alex and I hadn’t spoken since the pool. Not a word, not a text. Sometimes I thought about breaking the silence, but then my thumb would freeze above her name, and I’d lock my phone instead. Safer that way. Cleaner. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.