"No, wait!" Rob said. "I didn't say that--"
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"Forget it! Fine!" Tahira said, storming over to the baseline. "Whatever. Your point."
"It's nice that you're such a good sport about it," Ariana shot back, earning a few laughs from the small crowd in the stands. Brigit laughed the loudest.
Tahira's jaw clenched and she kept her gaze trained on Ariana, refusing to acknowledge the spectators. She got in her return stance, bent at the waist and swaying side to side.
"Just serve," she snapped.
Ariana smiled at Tahira's impatience, then decided to milk it. She bounced the ball a few times, jogging in place, pretending to be mulling her next move. Really she was marveling over the fact that this match had so far been a cakewalk. Tahira was a good player, but she wasn't great. She had taken the first set, but Ariana was well on her way to taking the second. And she hadn't played in a good three years. Well, except for that one match against Briana Leigh back in Houston, but that had been even yummier, easier-to-swallow cake than this match.
Even though, in the end, she had let Briana Leigh win.
Which she had only done because, at the time, she had been certain that Briana Leigh was a murderer--a murderer whose ire she did not wish to incite just because of a tennis match. Of course that had turned out not to be true. Kaitlynn was the murderer. Briana Leigh had been nothing but an innocent orphan.
And I killed her. I killed her because Kaitlynn turned me against her.Suddenly, Ariana saw Briana Leigh's face again. Her happy smile
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that day as they volleyed. Her cliché fist pump whenever she won a point. The little dance she did when the match was over.
And then her bloated face the day they pulled her from the lake. Her hair matted with mud and muck and leaves. Her limp form as they lifted her onto the boat.
The ball bounced up. Ariana's fingers closed around it and squeezed.
"Oh my God, enough with the Djokovic act! Serve the damn ball!"
Ariana cleared her throat. The sun had dipped behind Tahira, throwing her into shadow and blinding Ariana. She felt hot. Hot and sick and light-headed.
Stop it. Stop thinking about it.
"You've got this, Ana!" Lexa cheered.
Ariana tossed the ball in the air and served. It hit in the center of the box and arced slowly toward her opponent. Tahira slammed it back over the net so fast Ariana never had a chance.
"Yes!" Tahira shouted. There was a smattering of applause from the crowd.
Ariana turned and walked over to the fence to grab another ball. Her vision was blurry as she stared down at her feet, the yellow and white sneakers against the green court. In her mind she could hear Briana Leigh cheering her own points. Laughing over her victory. Saying they'd play again. She'd give Ariana another chance.
"You can do it, Ana!" Brigit cheered.
Ariana bent down to grab a ball and had to brace her hand on the fence to keep fromgoing
over.
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Dead. Dead. Dead because of me.
"What are you doing? Faking sick?" Tahira taunted her. "You're not going to get out of this that easily."
Ariana took in a breath.
In, one. . . two. . . three. . .
Out, one. . . two . . . three...