Page 20 of Long Shot

The truth was, they never finished what they’d started. And Taylor wasn’t sure she’d ever rest until she found out what lay on the other side of the closet door.

The next day, Taylor sat anxiously by her TV, still aching from her fourth round match as Mac’s began. She had insisted on watching the match alone, telling her mom she just wanted to recover in peace. Kim tried pushing back, but eventually relented thanks to a gentle nudge from Gerald.

Taylor sat back in her bed, a green, recovery smoothie in hand as she iced her knees. The match kicked off quickly. Mac’s serves were still getting above her average speed. Her opponent returned soft balls. But Mac’s exhaustion started to show quickly – by the the fourth game of the first set, sweat was already beading down her forehead

There was a massive difference between playing the ten matches that qualifiers needed to win than the seven that seeds had to play. The extra three matches really wore on a player's body. But Taylor had only experienced it once or twice before she ranked high enough to enter the Tournament without qualifying.

Honestly, a part of her was stunned by how agile Mac’s movements still were. She leapt from each side of the court with relative ease, delivering forceful returns on nearly every ball that came into her court.

Taylor pulled out a journal from the night stand and jotted down a few notes about Mac’s tactics. Biting her lip, Taylor started to wonder if she would still be able to defeat Mac.

When they went to camp together, Mac was way more inexperienced. In a lot of ways, Taylor mentored her, trying to share Kim’s training with her…friend.

But now, Mac was bigger than Taylor and carried a force that Taylor hadn’t encountered in quite some time. Her serves wereaveraging 125 miles per hour, even in the third set. Taylor licked her lips, distracted by Mac’s bulging biceps, veins visible even through the TV.

Shaking her head, Taylor tried to focus.It’s too late in the Slam to get distracted. Especially by someone who hates me.

Mac moved in to backhand a shot back to her opponent. But a lift in her racket at the last moment sent the ball flying off course. “Out,” the umpire called. “Thirty, fifteen.”

Checking the scores, Taylor knew Mac’s victory was almost certain. She won 7-5 in the first set, 6-4 in the second, and was tied up now 6-6. Two more points, and the duo would reunite on the court for the first time in over a decade.

Taylor swallowed hard as she gripped the plush duvet in her fists.Mom must be fuming.

Back at the baseline, Mac lifted her racket and served the ball across the court. An intense volley kicked off as Mac approached the net, gently placing the ball in the no-man’s land between the service box and the back of the court.

As her opponent was sliding across the far side of the court, Mac rushed the ball and slammed it into the opposite corner. The other player started toward the ball but slowed to a halt, giving up on the point before the ball even landed.

“Forty, fifteen.” The umpire nodded.

Taylor sat up straighter, inching closer to the TV. Even through the screen, the crowd’s energy was electric. Mac didn’t just bring a great game to the table; she also had an underdog story that the crowd was eating up. The spectators at Roland Garros were watching a top seed be born before their very eyes.

The US crowd is going to adore her. Let’s hope we don’t face off there.Taylor felt her chest tighten. The thought of losing the audience's admiration made her heart sink. It was hard to play to a crowd who favored the opponent.

The ball was launched into action once more, Mac applying every ounce of her remaining power into the 130 mile per hour serve.

Taylor shook her head. “Maybe she’ll wear herself out too much to recover.” It was the best she could hope for at this point. But no matter how tired she was, Mac’s strategy and execution remained the same. A lightbulb clicked in Taylor’s mind as she made another note.

Before Taylor knew it, Mac’s shot landed right up by the net – an impossible return for her opponent. As soon as the ball touched down in the barrier, Mac pumped her fist. The crowd erupted as the match was called in her favor.

The camera panned to Barbara McConnell and Piper Bennett, eliciting a sigh from Taylor. “Piper hasn’t aged a day.”

The two women leapt into the air, joyfully embracing. Taylor couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from twisting into a smile. Very few people knew just how hard Piper had worked to get her baby here.

The pundits took over the narration. “It’s official. In two days, the Americans will face off. Underdog Mackenzie Bennett will play the legendary Taylor Young. This will be quite the matchup.”

Taylor stood from her spot on the bed, taking the notebook with her. Kim would come knocking first thing in the morning to dissect the match, and she would only have one day to prep for the match against Mackenzie. She’d need a good strategy to get Kim off her back and to crush Mac’s rising star.

The thought made her queasy. But she pushed the feeling aside because she knew she had no choice. She’d have to destroy Mac, and leave nothing behind.

9

Mac

Bang,bang, bang.

Mac startled awake to a knock at the door.

Before she could process that she was still – somehow – in her room at the Hotel George V, a voice called from the door. “Ms. Bennett, this is your wakeup call and room service.”

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