you do that with high heels, woman?” Monica shook her head in disbelief. Takashima’s famous trademark move on the court was her sliding split. She would even do it on hard courts.
“Sorry for being late. But I discovered the most amazing roof-deck sushi restaurant and they offered me a free trial if I bring you guys along. The owner is a big tennis fan,” Natsumi explained. Unperturbed by Amanda’s shocked face she threw her arms in the air in excitement. “Hey ho, let’s go, girls!”
Eventually Monica helped Natsumi to drag Amanda from the jungle sofa and into the elevator.
***
Elise felt a big lump creeping up her throat. For a moment all she could hear were the leaves rustling by the fan above her as the huge jungle plants wrapped around her like Sleeping Beauty’s impenetrable hedge. Praying that no one came to sit in the lounge she crouched into the big wing chair that had hidden her from the three girls. She needed just two minutes of silence to steady herself. Just two minutes to fight back the tears.
So, Amanda had a girlfriend. A glamorous singer. Of course, she had, Elise thought. Amanda was a Top 10 player, she was lovely and friendly and never made a big fuss about her standing. She was a ‘cool cat’, an expression Elise had learned by reading the Tennis Nurse novel Agnes Lion had given her. She had learned a lot of other things as well. Soon she needed to give it back. Otherwise Agnes would correctly assume that Elise had read it, even though she had denied it when talking on the phone with her friend. But there were pages she could read over and over again. That’s what she had been doing in the lounge when Monica and Amanda had sat down on the couch on the other side of the jungle plants. But once she had heard Amanda’s voice behind her she had forgotten about Tennis Nurse and The Girl Who Preferred The Grass .
Now a strong feeling of self-pity and anger rose in Elise. Self-pity because she had missed the opportunity to get to know Amanda better last year. And anger because she hated self-pity. That wasn’t like her. She was fighting her way back to playing WTA tournaments without looking back on the months and months she had missed. She was a self-assured, determined person who looked ahead.
But this was different. She could recall exactly the first meeting between her and Amanda before a match three years ago. It had been one of the smaller events on the tour when Elise had just begun to cross over from playing ITF challenger tournaments to the bigger WTA tournaments and she was easily beaten by Amanda. In all the following matches Amanda was able to beat her with ease, and in hindsight Elise had to admit that it was not only the Australian’s talent and game but her own nerviness when Amanda was around that made her lose her matches. Then there was that evening they spent on the porch of the Charleston hotel away from the noisiness of last year’s players’ party. They had talked for hours sheltered by the stars of the Southern night sky and for the first time Elise had enjoyed the inner flurry the Australian caused. She had begun to really like the redhead.
She even had a dream about Amanda after the party. But back then she hadn’t grasped the nature of her affection. In hindsight she must have been completely blind to her own feelings. It could have happened back then. Why else would Amanda have spent a whole evening with her? But she had missed out on the chance and a week later she was on a plane back to Germany with a torn ACL. The unfairness of life brought tears to her eyes.
There it was again, she scolded herself. Self-pity. She wiped away the tears. Someone else would come along, she thought. Maybe. And if anybody ever came along, would Elise dare to make the first step? She couldn’t expect someone else to do it as apparently everyone who knew her assumed she was straight. Like that new freelance journalist she had to endure for an interview this
“Sorry for being late. But I discovered the most amazing roof-deck sushi restaurant and they offered me a free trial if I bring you guys along. The owner is a big tennis fan,” Natsumi explained. Unperturbed by Amanda’s shocked face she threw her arms in the air in excitement. “Hey ho, let’s go, girls!”
Eventually Monica helped Natsumi to drag Amanda from the jungle sofa and into the elevator.
***
Elise felt a big lump creeping up her throat. For a moment all she could hear were the leaves rustling by the fan above her as the huge jungle plants wrapped around her like Sleeping Beauty’s impenetrable hedge. Praying that no one came to sit in the lounge she crouched into the big wing chair that had hidden her from the three girls. She needed just two minutes of silence to steady herself. Just two minutes to fight back the tears.
So, Amanda had a girlfriend. A glamorous singer. Of course, she had, Elise thought. Amanda was a Top 10 player, she was lovely and friendly and never made a big fuss about her standing. She was a ‘cool cat’, an expression Elise had learned by reading the Tennis Nurse novel Agnes Lion had given her. She had learned a lot of other things as well. Soon she needed to give it back. Otherwise Agnes would correctly assume that Elise had read it, even though she had denied it when talking on the phone with her friend. But there were pages she could read over and over again. That’s what she had been doing in the lounge when Monica and Amanda had sat down on the couch on the other side of the jungle plants. But once she had heard Amanda’s voice behind her she had forgotten about Tennis Nurse and The Girl Who Preferred The Grass .
Now a strong feeling of self-pity and anger rose in Elise. Self-pity because she had missed the opportunity to get to know Amanda better last year. And anger because she hated self-pity. That wasn’t like her. She was fighting her way back to playing WTA tournaments without looking back on the months and months she had missed. She was a self-assured, determined person who looked ahead.
But this was different. She could recall exactly the first meeting between her and Amanda before a match three years ago. It had been one of the smaller events on the tour when Elise had just begun to cross over from playing ITF challenger tournaments to the bigger WTA tournaments and she was easily beaten by Amanda. In all the following matches Amanda was able to beat her with ease, and in hindsight Elise had to admit that it was not only the Australian’s talent and game but her own nerviness when Amanda was around that made her lose her matches. Then there was that evening they spent on the porch of the Charleston hotel away from the noisiness of last year’s players’ party. They had talked for hours sheltered by the stars of the Southern night sky and for the first time Elise had enjoyed the inner flurry the Australian caused. She had begun to really like the redhead.
She even had a dream about Amanda after the party. But back then she hadn’t grasped the nature of her affection. In hindsight she must have been completely blind to her own feelings. It could have happened back then. Why else would Amanda have spent a whole evening with her? But she had missed out on the chance and a week later she was on a plane back to Germany with a torn ACL. The unfairness of life brought tears to her eyes.
There it was again, she scolded herself. Self-pity. She wiped away the tears. Someone else would come along, she thought. Maybe. And if anybody ever came along, would Elise dare to make the first step? She couldn’t expect someone else to do it as apparently everyone who knew her assumed she was straight. Like that new freelance journalist she had to endure for an interview this
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