Chapter 12 #2
“Let’s run it back, see what they do this time,” Gabe whispers.
“Same play? Really?” Leo asks.
“Yeah, show them we have this down.”
“Okay, cool. I like it.”
Leo likes the play, but he mostly likes telling secrets with Gabe.
They bump fists before Gabe runs back up to the net and, for better or worse, reassumes his crouched position.
Again, Leo rockets a serve at his opponent.
It’s the mirror image of the previous point.
Juan Carlos’s brother, Roberto, sends a forehand crosscourt to Leo’s backhand.
Leo runs for it and hits a screaming one-hander back to him.
Gabe is up at the net, in constant motion, waiting for his moment to pounce.
After a few shots back and forth, Gabe finds his opening and volleys the ball at a hard angle, sending it sliding off the court.
“30–love,” the ump says.
Leo and Gabe meet in the middle and low five each other again.
“Let’s go,” Gabe says.
With an ace from Leo in the next point, followed by an error from Roberto, they go on to secure their first game as an official doubles team.
As the match continues, Leo no longer cares whether Juan Carlos is tired from his match with Ollie.
It doesn’t even matter. Leo and Gabe are crushing them, anticipating nearly every shot, moving fluidly across their shared side.
Something about the way Gabe says “Mine!” when he claims a shot for himself gets Leo’s stomach twirling like his racket.
As they get in a groove, the match ends up lasting about a tenth of the time Leo spent worrying about it.
After Gabe hits yet another smash for a winner, the two of them turn and look at each other, and for whatever reason, they both start laughing, when that smash officially clinches it: 6–2, 6–3, Chambers/Montoya.
They run up to each other and instead of a low five, they move in closer and, suddenly unsure of what comes next, they morph into some kind of half-hug, half-chest bump? Sure.
“We did it,” Leo says, almost shocked.
“We did it,” Gabe says, grinning.
Afterward, during the on-court interview, the announcer asks them, “What made you two want to team up?”
“Well,” Leo begins, “we’ve been trying to move past the, uh, incident at the US Open. And I think we realized how when we put our styles of play together, you get a pretty well-rounded game.”
“Looks like we were right,” Gabe adds.
The crowd starts to applaud again, and an oddly familiar whistle echoes in Leo’s ear. He jerks his head to the right and spots Patrick in the stands, clapping and giving him an I-told-you-so grin. “I thought you’d click, that’s all.”
Leo shakes his head and smiles.
Over the course of the next week, Leo not only makes it to the quarterfinals again—his home crowd loving every minute of his newly energized game, free-flowing and assured—but he and Gabe also go on to win a couple more matches in doubles.
The way they complement each other on the court is undeniable, or, as Serving Looks has put it:
servinglooks My new favorite doubles team, Chambers/Montoya, absolutely ATE in their latest match. Color me obsessed with these two.
But what really gets Leo’s heart pumping during the tournament is their conversation during changeovers.
Like some kind of tennis speed-dating, sitting side by side during the ninety-second changeovers that take place after games 1, 3, and 5, they get into the habit of quizzing each other on their favorites and firsts.
“Favorite movie,” Gabe says while retying one of his sneakers.
“Oh, Casablanca. Something else I watched with my grandma a lot. She always called me an ‘old soul.’ ”
Leo now knows full well that the Venn diagram of adults who were considered old souls and adults who are gay is a circle. He looks down and can see Gabe smiling as he loops his laces.
“Favorite food,” Leo says.
“Ají de gallina,” Gabe says. “Especially my mom’s. It’s my comfort food. It’s like this creamy chicken stew. All right, um, favorite walk-on song?”
“ ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ by Queen. Favorite book?”
“You know I love my romance novels, but my favorite book is this queer YA story, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe.”
Leo finishes sipping his electrolytes. “Sounds really cool. I’ll have to pick it up.”
“Okay. First kiss,” Gabe says slyly.
“Oh, God. This girl at my middle school, Abby Jennings. It sucked. We both had braces. All I tasted was metal.”
Gabe puts a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t spit out his water. “Hot,” he says after successfully swallowing.
“Okay, well, what about yours?” Leo asks, fiddling with the strings on his racket.
“Wes Altman. When we were sixteen.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Leo says, whipping his head around. “At BP?”
“Yup, for, like, two seconds in the locker room,” Gabe says. “Since he didn’t end up going pro, I don’t mind telling you. What you might not know is that he now runs this little gay boutique hotel in Key West. Go figure.”
“I had no idea,” Leo says. “Makes you wonder how many other gay players there are.”
“It does,” Gabe says, and takes another swig of water.
“Time,” the ump calls.
Inside the players’ dining hall, following Leo’s workout, post-match press conference, cool-down—the works—after his tight loss in the quarters, he sits down to have dinner with his dad.
The conversation starts hesitantly, mostly about how there’s a new chef at the tournament this year and the cooking has gone up a notch, but then it changes.
“I wanted to say thank you, by the way,” Johnny says. “Dedicating your Tie Break Tens win to the ASA. That was really special, Leo. I should’ve said something sooner. Thank you.”
But Leo’s not surprised his dad waited until after the tournament to say something.
It was all business the past week. No place for emotion in the midst of a deep run.
Johnny simply acted like the gap in his time on tour never happened, slipped right back into his place as the uncompromising head coach. That’s his way.
“It was nothing,” Leo says. “I was happy to do it. Listen, Dad, what I said after the podcast recording, I—”
Johnny waves him off. “You don’t have to apologize. We both said some stuff. Let’s just move on from it, okay?”
Just then, Brian walks up and joins them at the table.
“Ah, the gang’s all here,” Johnny says, reaching to put a hand on both Leo’s and Brian’s arms, shaking them. “This was a solid way to kick off spring. Back-to-back quarterfinals. Some great momentum.”
“Hell yeah,” Brian says. “You’re killin’ it out there, LC.”
Leo’s lips curl into a bashful smile.
“You have been,” Johnny says. “Your double faults are way down. You’re looking good. And you’ve been killing it too, Brian.”
“Dad, please don’t say ‘killing it,’ you’re making Brian uncomfortable.”
“Well, he is! Murdering it!” Johnny says. “I know I’ve texted you over and over, Brian, but I can’t thank you enough for taking the lead these past few months. You’ve made things easy for me to come back for the rest of the season.”
“You’re coming back?” Leo asks, eyes widening. He isn’t sure if he’s excited or nervous or both.
Johnny gives a drumroll on the table with his fingers, then stops when he announces, “I am! My docs have given the all-clear. I’ll pull back if I need to, but I’m confident. Madrid, here we come!”
“Gotta give a hell yeah to that, too!” Brian says. “That’s awesome. It’ll be great to have you back on the team, Johnny.”
“Yeah,” Leo says, sounding more conflicted than he would’ve liked. He glances at Brian, who’s looking at him curiously. Leo shifts his attention back. “That’s amazing, Dad.”
“Now, I don’t want to get ahead of ourselves, but the US Open is just five months away,” Johnny says, getting ahead of himself.
“Let’s keep our heads down and focus as we move into the clay swing.
Keep that rank climbing. No distractions.
I know you like playing mixed with Tess here and there.
And I’m really glad you’re on better terms with Gabe now.
But we’ve got to stick to singles from here on out if this is going to be your year in New York. ”
Nibbling at the inside of his cheek, Leo tries to digest his dad’s plan.
“No distractions, okay?” Johnny says.
Leo sees a familiar fire in his dad’s eyes. He’s glad it’s returned, that he still has a chance to win the US Open before his dad retires. It’ll just take some readjusting with his dad back on the team. But he can keep everybody happy. He can.
“Right,” Leo says hesitantly. “Okay.”