Page 5 of Long Shot

“You got it, kid.” Tommy looked up from her notes. “You’re looking good, though. The sports sapphics are going to eat you up.”

Trying to hide her blush, Mac shook her head. “You’re ridiculous.” She made her way out of the office and back to thesubway with a glance at her watch. She only had a few hours before she needed to be dressed for her date.

When she emerged from the train in Queens, Mac glanced at her phone to find seven messages from her boss. All of them were sent over an hour ago. “Crap.” Rushing to answer the emails, she typed as she walked, hardly looking up as she weaved down the street. She’d completely forgotten that she needed to finish up her latest transcription before heading out for the night.

After a few blocks, Mac reached her stoop. It was a classic Astoria street; all brick buildings hidden behind connected brick fences. Some were small residential homes with gaudy gold fences while others were towering apartment complexes. Despite its sticky lock, Mac made quick work of opening the front door of her own complex and bounded up the rickety stairs.

I can’t believe how much I pay for this shithole.Mac shook her head as she reached the fourth floor.Then again, the commute to Randall’s Island would be brutal from anywhere cheaper.

Her roommates’s boisterous chatter bled out into the hallway more the closer she got to the apartment. An explosion of giggles erupted as she swung open the door, its loud creak announcing her arrival.

Jazz whipped her head around to see Mac. “Hey! We were just talking about Taylor.”

“Oh god, why?” Mac rolled her eyes as she set her duffel bag on the coat rack.

As she kneeled down to untie her shoes, Beatriz shrugged. “We were talking about whether any of us stand a chance at Garros.”

Mac slipped off her sneakers and sat on the chair across from the couch, leaning back into its worn fabric. “That depends if her mommy buys off her opponents or not.” Everyone laughed, but Mac felt a wave of guilt wash over her.

There was no denying that Taylor was a spoiled, legacy player. But denying her hard work wasn’t entirely fair. Mac had seen firsthand just how hard she trained… and how brutal Kimberly Young really was. It couldn’t be easy having a woman like that as a mother. Unlike the other players in the room, Mac was the only one who really knew what Tay gave up to betheTaylor Young.

“Well, we’ll kick her ass.” Beatriz raised her protein shake in a cheers. Jazz met her cup, and they chugged down whatever remained.

Standing from the chair, Mac set her dirty bottles in the kitchen. She grabbed the dish towel from the oven and wiped at the counter, a puff of protein powder flying into the air.

Coughing as the fine dust flew into her nostrils, Mac shook her head. “Guys, you gotta wipe this shit up. It makes a mess, and management won’t send an exterminator again.”

Jazz stood on the couch and flexed, her lean muscles bulging against the fabric of her workout tee. “But we need to get these gains!”

“Getthose gains… in a clean house.” Mac chuckled as she headed to her room. Living with other players was the best thing Mac could have done, even if they were a mess. Jazz and Beatriz were the only roommates Mac had ever had who truly understood the training schedule. Besides, it was motivating to know that your competitors were right next door making progress on their game.

Once in her room, Mac closed the door softly behind her and started to hunt through her closet for something to wear. She leaned against the doorframe, letting her head slam against the wood trim as she considered her options.

I have no idea why I’m doing this.

A few hours later, Mac was sitting on a bench outside of an ice cream shop just a few minutes from her apartment. After a few minutes hemming and hawing about what to wear, she had settled on a pair of fitted, dark wash jeans and a nice band tee. Next to her, a beautiful woman took a bite off her spoon.

“So, you wake up that early every day?” Gemma asked between spoonfuls.

Mac nodded. “Yeah, on weekdays I have to get my workout in before my day job. And then on weekends, I like to take advantage of the extra free time to do more training.”

Gemma raised her eyebrows. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

With a shrug, Mac looked down at her treat. “It definitely can be. But it’s been my dream for as long as I can remember.”

There was a pause as Gemma considered her next question. “Can I ask what might be a rude question?”

Mac chuckled. “Sure.”

“When do you give up?” Gemma quickly qualified her words. “I just mean I know most athletes retire kind of young. So at what age is it like… too late?”

Pushing air out of her lungs, Mac stared up at the scaffolding overhead. The last time she had come here, there wasn’t any. It certainly made for an odd date to have scaffolding towering over the entire night.

Mac shook her head. “I guess I’m still asking myself the same thing.”

Gemma shrugged as she finished off her ice cream.

After a moment of silence, Mac cleared her throat. “So, you said you work in marketing?”

---