Chapter 11 #3
“—but we’re still going to wipe the court with you tonight.”
“You know this is for charity, right?” Ollie asks.
“And bragging rights,” Tess says, shrugging and putting a hand in Ollie’s face. She then leans forward so she can see around Ollie. “It’s good to see you back, Liv.”
Liv offers a small smile. “It’s good to be back. I wasn’t sure I’d come tonight, but this one encouraged me,” she says, bumping her shoulder into Ollie’s.
As the four of them chat away in low voices, the competition is heating up, each of the tiebreaks nail-bitingly close.
The fans are on their feet during the longest rallies, screaming for the players as they show off a little more than usual for some extra entertainment, diving for balls at the net and hitting tweeners whenever possible.
The blanketed bunch is getting in on the rowdiness, too, hollering for their favorite shots to keep the competition spicy.
In between tiebreaks, Leo is talking with Ollie when he feels a new weight on his chair.
He turns and finds Gabe sitting on the chair’s arm, also with a blanket wrapped around him, smiling.
“This seat taken?” he asks.
“Uh, no, no, go for it,” Leo says, gripping his blanket tighter now.
“What’s up, Ollie?” Gabe says, reaching across Leo’s body for Ollie’s hand. Cedar.
Over the next ten minutes or so, the group, including Gabe, joke around like kids, putting their blankets over their heads, Ollie wearing his like a cape at one point, Gabe pointing out that Tess is giving Marie Antoinette when she turns hers into a wig.
It’s only silly things like that, but Leo’s unfamiliar with the feeling that begins to warm his body even more than the blanket.
When it finally comes time for Leo and Tess to prepare for their turn on court, they hop on the stationary bikes, and so do Gabe and his partner, Camila Díaz, a young Peruvian player—the opposing team they’ll face in the first round.
For once, and the quick pace at which he’s pedaling might give this away, Leo actually isn’t dreading an early-round clash with Gabe.
He’s kind of, maybe, well, hyped for it.
“It’s a good thing you have some time on the bike,” Leo says, staring straight ahead.
“Oh yeah?” Gabe says, and Leo can feel his deep-brown eyes on him. “Why’s that?”
“Well, it’s important to stay loose. With so much money on the line, you don’t want to get stiff out there like, say, cardboard, do you?”
“Leo Chambers telling me to stay loose,” Gabe says. “Now I’ve heard it all. But don’t worry, I never get stiff on court.”
“Oh, grow up,” Leo says.
He then turns and offers a playful look, one that’s returned by Gabe, and their flirting—yes, Leo might even admit that this is flirting—spills onto the court during their tiebreak.
Whenever the two of them are up at the net, waiting opposite each other for the next serve—crouched down low, asses out, thighs bulging—Leo steals a glance at Gabe through the crisscrossing mesh.
He’s brave enough to look, but his eyes still dart away when Gabe meets them, biting his lip to contain his emotion.
There’s a wink from Gabe after he hits a winner down the line, a raised eyebrow from Leo after he hits a near-perfect volley.
They squint at each other to show their focus.
Observing your opponent’s body language is key in any tennis match, but this is a different language altogether.
For Leo, at least, the signals he’s sending are loaded with something much more intense, much more sensual than typical competition.
Point after point, Leo is determined to show Gabe what he’s capable of, moving side to side on the court with the kind of agility that fans know he can bring.
They’re mirroring the energy displayed on court, too, growing louder and louder as the tiebreak barrels toward 9–7, Chambers/Soriano.
This next point could put them into the second round.
After a high, sloping kick serve from Tess and a few fierce crosscourt forehands between her and Camila, Leo finds himself locked into a volleying duel with Gabe at the net, both of them punching the ball back and forth and back and forth and back and forth as the crowd’s cheering reaches a climax.
The fans are roaring, ignoring the number one rule in tennis that the crowd stay quiet during a point, and Leo harnesses their energy as he steps in and smashes the next shot at Gabe’s feet, the ball bouncing straight through Gabe’s legs and off the court.
Leo whips around and runs at Tess for a hug as the fans rise out of the navy-blue seats.
“It’s a win for Chambers and Soriano!” the announcer declares.
They shake hands with Gabe and Camila at the net, and Gabe, glistening with sweat as he removes his backward cap, tells him, “Nice move. I’ll have to borrow that some time.
” Leo’s body already pumping with adrenaline from that final point, he could probably lift the entire stadium into the black sky after hearing that comment.
Leo and Tess carry the electricity of that first tiebreak all the way into the last round, where they face Ollie and Liv.
It’s all fun and games, even though the stands are rocking like it’s a Grand Slam final, but Leo wants this win pretty badly.
He wants the bragging rights to hold over Ollie for the foreseeable future, obviously, and he wants the donation even more now that he’s this close to the quarter-of-a-million check.
After everything he’s been through with his parents the past several months, earning this prize money for the ASA would almost—almost—feel like closure for him.
That’s what fuels him during the final tiebreak.
He and Tess continue to work beautifully together, communicating with ease, covering each other as they shift their positions around the court.
This is them at their best. With both of them locked in, it’s not even a contest. Sending an ace down the T, Leo closes it out 10–3, and leaps for joy with Tess as the stadium roars in celebration, and then bursts into laughter as Ollie pretends to snub them at the net.
When the announcer asks Leo what it means to win this event tonight, he says, “Oh, it means the world. I got to win Tie Break Tens with this legend next to me. But I also have to say, it hasn’t always been easy for my dad, or for my mom and me, while he’s been recovering from his stroke last fall.
So many families go through this every year, so to be able to earn this donation and support the American Stroke Association really means a lot to—”
He’s cut off by a long round of applause and whistling from the bundled crowd.
“And thank you to all of you for coming out tonight even though it’s so chilly out. The atmosphere really heated things up. I hope to see you at some of my matches!”
There is no shortage of fans at Leo’s matches.
He’s felt them during every point, throwing their full support behind him, even if he isn’t the top American right now.
Galvanized by their support, his continued groove with Brian, and, okay, his budding—friendship?
Would he call it a friendship? Whatever it is, he can, begrudgingly, tell that the truce is loosening him up, too.
Was Gabe really having that much of an impact on his mindset? He’d prefer not to answer that question. He’ll sweep that aside for now, backhand it out of sight and out of mind.
His rhythm during Tie Break Tens extends into his run at Indian Wells, where, in the dry heat, he smacks and strikes and slices his way into the quarterfinals—four match wins in a row—no small accomplishment at a massive tournament of this magnitude.
“Cheers, y’all,” Brian says, holding up a pint glass at the sleek hotel bar. “To LC for a breakthrough run—”
“I wouldn’t call it a breakthrough,” Leo interjects.
“Well, I would. You’ve found new ways to get the win even when you’re not at your best. You’ve trained damn hard to get back here after a tough stretch. The final eight at Indian Wells? We’re drinking to that. I’m proud of you, LC.”
“Brian, you big softy,” Leo says. “Don’t think I’ll let you win at Uno just because of this toast.”
With his eyebrows raised, Brian simply stares at Leo with his glass still raised, like an unimpressed uncle.
“Okay, okay,” Leo says. “In all seriousness, making the quarters at Indian Wells feels really good. I didn’t know how this season would go, but here we are, heading into Miami with some real momentum. Cheers to that.”
The team clinks their glasses to a successful tournament, and with nearly the same intensity he brought to said tournament, Leo crushes them, round after round, at Uno.
Later, sitting up in his hotel room, his things neatly packed for his flight to Miami the next morning, where he’ll immediately begin prepping for the Miami Open, he’s watching his favorite show when his phone buzzes.
“Nice work at IW,” it reads. “See you soon.”
It’s the most he’s heard from his dad over the past few weeks.
Leo is sure he’s been watching every match, as promised, but it’s still been quiet between them.
He was hoping for more from his dad, especially after Tie Break Tens and the ASA donation, which was partially Leo’s olive branch, but he’ll take it—a break in the silence before they see each other in Miami.
Leo has been feeling sheepish after their post-What a Racket tiff, so he’s relieved he didn’t have to be the breaker.
Still, his thumbs hang hesitantly over the keyboard as he struggles to come up with a reply.
He keeps it simple: “Thanks, Dad. See you soon.”
As “delivered” appears below his text, there’s a knock at the door that makes him jump, as if somehow it’s his dad, who meant “see you soon” a bit more literally.