Page 87 of Long Shot

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Taylor

Taylor’s head leaned back,tilting toward the sky as she caught her breath. She didn’t want Mac to know how tired she was but Mac had played harder than she expected.

Every chance Taylor had, she would force Mac into a full on sprint. But unlike the last time they played, Mac crossed the court with ease.I’m going to have to reevaluate on the second set.

Taylor took a drink of water, swishing it around in her mouth as she thought. She let herself take a peek at Mac through the umpire’s stand. Mac leaned forward, resting her head in her hands. A flash of an 18 year old Mac came to Taylor’s mind. Her frustration looked exactly as it had all those years ago. Taylor’s heart ached in her chest.

“Players, ready.” The umpire nodded.

As Taylor walked back to the court, she shook off her sympathy. It wasn’t the time for that. She had to win, even if it meant destroying Mac’s game.

At the baseline, Taylor examined her three tennis balls. She was quick in selecting her favorite for the first serve. Taylor knew that Mac would likely be able to return every serve she sent over. Her serve was at least 5 miles per hour slower than Mac’s.

Pursing her lips, Taylor inhaled and lifted her body into the air. She released a primal “ha” as she brought her racket down on the ball. It landed in the box but Mac sent it back to her easily, sending the ball to the back corner of Taylor’s court.

Taylor’s heart pounded as she raced to reach it. She was more exhausted than she thought, her body feeling heavier by the second. But she hit the ball back to Mac.

“Out.” The umpire called.

She could have sworn it was in. Opening her mouth, she debated challenging it. But she shook it off. With only three for the entire match, Taylor might need them in the tiebreaker. One point at the start of the set wasn’t worth it.

With each serve, Taylor tried to conceal her exhaustion. But it was getting progressively more difficult to hide as her serve speeds steadily decreased.

Noticing, Mac used her energy to send Taylor from one end of the court to the other. She was able to stay at the center of her baseline. Every point was more competitive than the last, each one becoming more valuable than the previous.

Taylor shook her head, her blonde hair soaked in sweat.Thank god I played at McEnroe. I wouldn’t have been ready for this play style.

In the back of her mind, Taylor knew exactly what the pundits were saying.

“This is a war between a gladiator and a ballerina.” One pundit joked.

Another shrugged. “The winner isn’t as obvious as it sounds. Young is only ceding points she knows she can afford.Meanwhile, Bennett is putting all of her force into hitting points that Taylor can’t reach.”

An anchor shook her head. “I can’t imagine the level of exhaustion these two must be feeling as we approach what could be the end of the second set.”

Mac smashed the second set.

Standing at her baseline, Taylor rubbed her chin. The score sat at 4 - 5, 40 - 15. If she lost this point, they would be heading to a tiebreaker. And if she managed to pull it out, she’d have to win the next four points to walk away with this game. Then it would be a race to 7 games.

Taylor licked her lips, preparing to serve. She took a deep breath.I’ve won this before. I can do it again. Mackenzie doesn’t have the stamina.

Nodding to herself, Taylor leapt into the air. She squeezed her core tightly as she sent the ball over the net.

Mac grunted as she sent it back. The sound made Taylor’s hair stand up. Her mind flooded with the images of the two of them wrapped up in the sheets together. Even now, it was all Taylor wanted.

The final point of the set felt neverending, each of them smashing the ball with all the force they had.

But when Taylor hit it as hard as she could, Mac surprised her. Taylor ran to the corner of the court she assumed Mac would aim the ball. Instead, Mac lightly tapped the ball over the net and into the front service boxes.

“Shit.” Taylor murmured as she hustled to the ball. But it was too late.

“Set, Miss Bennett.” The umpire pointed in Mac’s direction.

Taylor’s head dropped as she came back to the center bench. She collected her things, preparing to swap sides with Mac. Wiping her face with the towel, Taylor tried to calm her breathing. Her inhales were ragged.

The umpire motioned for them to swap benches before the new set began.

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