Job 30:16-19
I have a momentary edge on my opponent when I first step onto the court. It doesn't normally take my opponent very long to adapt to the pattern, but that little bit of confusion as they try to figure out where my shots are coming from can make all the difference.
My first exhibition of the season was the first Saturday in March.
Day eight.
It was thirty-love before my opponent from Glassboro State figured out what was wrong with my stance.
This is when my body feels the most natural. I keep myself as close to weightless as possible when I move, only letting gravity plant me for a shot. The racket is an extension of my limbs. Half my conscious mind is gone. It's just me and my opponent and a fuzzy yellow ball - although of course the rules make it complicated. Where the ball is allowed to land on which shot. How many times it's allowed to bounce. Where your foot stays when you serve.
The third serve from the other side had adjusted to compensate for the weird angle of my return shots. Lefties aren't super uncommon - around ten percent of pro tennis players are southpaws, including Rafael Nadal, another reason I like him. But since I also wear a headband to push my curly hair back like he does, I sometimes worry people think I'm trying to look like him. I'm not hot enough, honestly. Plus I can't tan.
I never tried to learn to play right-handed. It's not as huge of an advantage as it used to be in pro sports, but it still has its advantages in college varsity.
Game point. Figuring out my stance didn't help the other side.
I bobbed on my toes as I wanted for the serve. My opponent was slimmer - hardly any body fat, stringy muscles, like a runner. He was quick, but couldn't seem to get significant power behind his strokes. I'd have to play mid-court and try to focus on shots he'd have a hard time getting back over the net.
The serve came in with topspin, bounced at the corner of my square. I turned my hip and swung under, and he had to dash sideways to get it. Bounced short. I moved to the center and took an overhead strike, watching the little yellow ball hit the ground in front of him, and miraculously, he returned it -
And it landed in the net.
Game - Parrish. My serve.
‡
In the locker room, I secluded myself in a corner away from the showers. I had never been comfortable being naked in front of other men... especially when they seemed not to care at all. I avoided showering at the gym. I changed my clothes one piece at a time. But I had more reason to hide my body just then.
Under the white athletic polo I wore on the court, Levi's mark hadn't gone yet. The color had changed like the fading of a sunspot in the eyes - dark violet and blue, rimmed with yellow-green.
I didn't wash up until I got home. Off the court, the gravity in my limbs had returned tenfold.
The eighth day had been easier than the first. I wouldn't tell anyone, but that Friday night, I'd laid in bed and just... cried. And I couldn't tell if the pain was from the guilt or the fight or the fact that I'd left at all.
But slowly, I was beginning to cleanse myself of Levi. The closer the bruise was to fading, the closer I was to the end of my self-imposed starvation... It would hurt less every day to think about him.
I needed to believe that.
If I didn't, I would never make it through this.
‡
Day ten.
I was a day late for Lent, but I felt like I should still aim for forty. It was a longer time than I'd even been speaking to him.
But it was hard not being able to speak to anyone about my decision. I couldn't talk to Marc about my abstinence. I couldn't vent to Janina about the massive fight I'd had. I couldn't ask my parents if I was doing the right thing. I was alone. All I could do was pray every night and hope I was being heard.
When Marc asked me to hang out after class that afternoon, I welcomed the distraction either way. Marc and I had interests that had slowly drifted apart over the years, but we had pretty much always come back together over video games. So more often than not, we ended up at his place or mine to play. I still preferred his place - Marc usually had the small apartment all to himself since his dad was busy all the time, and my mom was always in my biz even when I had friends over. Plus Marc's bed turned into a couch.
I sprawled out and made myself at home on it while he set up his game console, and quickly found myself debating his choice of game.
"You know for a fact I suck at FPS games," I said. "It always just ends up being you hunting me down while I run for my life and forget which way to move the stick to aim."
"This one's co-op," Marc said dismissively. "You'd be on my team and we join a session online."
"Oh! Great. So another TEAM can hunt me down while I run for my life."
"Aw, god, you
pussy
. Fine, you pick something to play."
I ignored what Marc saw as a playful jab and scooted onto the floor beside him, picking through his game titles. We played a lot of different games together, but I'd never been very good at anything with guns.
Marc crossed his legs next to me and watched me appraise his collection. "Hey... Can I ask you something?" he said.
"Depends, what is it?" I asked, examining the back of a box.
He shrugged. "I dunno, just... Why won't you talk about what's up with you and Levi?"
I felt stiffness pulling at my shoulders when he said this. "Because there's
nothing
going on with me and Levi. Why are you so interested?"
"Ash, come the fuck on. I don't think you're sucking his dick, but from the sound of it, you guys chill more than we do anymore."
My jaw tightened slightly. I desperately wanted to stop talking about this, but Marc was making it clear he was going to keep prying. But I could tell the truth without... explaining all of it. "We don't," I muttered. "I'm not hanging with him at all now."
I ignored the silence that fell between us and went back to checking game titles.
"How come?" asked Marc at length.
"So you were suspicious when I
did
spend time with him... Now you're suspicious that I don't? What, do you think we had some fucking break-up or shit?"
"Man, I dunno... I didn't know anything about
anything
you were doing."
"It's his business," I said dryly. "Not something I'm going to spread around. I just don't want to be around him. Is that enough? I'm gonna put this in." I popped open the case for a fighting game I knew I was good at. I was pretty sure Marc only kept this one at his place because he knew I would play it. Dudes with weapons beating the crap out of each other with combo moves.
"Aw, dude, you gotta learn how to play something other than beat-em-ups and fighters," Marc laughed.
"Why, cuz you wanna go back to kicking my ass?" I smirked. "No thanks. Grab your controller and let me own
you
for once."
"Yeah, yeah, all right..."
Two rounds in, Marc had gone suspiciously quiet again. I was afraid he was gonna start quizzing me about Levi again, but this was different.
"So... Has Janina asked you to hang out at all since we were at the diner?"
I blinked and looked over at him in the middle of getting back to the character select screen, but he didn't look up. What was that about? "I mean, I talk to her at practice and when I run into her on campus... But we don't really hang out, just me and her."
