Page 55 of Carrie Soto Is Back

“Carrie?” he says.

“Yeah.”

“Did you hear me?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“That’s not what this is,” I say. “It’s not like that.”

“It could be like that,” Bowe says. “It was like that before.”

“That was more than a decade ago.”

“Please do not remind me how long I’ve been at this.”

“I’m just saying…things are different now.”

“Can’t they be different in a good way?” he asks. “Like this time you don’t tell me not to call you. Or if you do, I don’t listen?”

“Bowe,” I say, shaking my head. My heart is racing, and I immediately resent him for making me waste this much angst on something like sex, when I need to focus on my game. “No.”

“Okay,” he says, his voice sharper now, back to normal. “Message received. I won’t ask again.”

“Good, please don’t.”

“Good luck against Perez. I hope I get to see you crush her.”

“Who do you play next?” I ask.

“O’Hara.”

I inhale a bit too sharply, and he hears me.

“My thoughts exactly,” he says.

“You can take him. You can.”

“Uh-huh,” Bowe says, laughing. “You’re starting to sound like my sister. But I want you to sound like Carrie Soto.”

I think about it for a minute. “He’s going to exhaust you. If he gets you to five sets, you’re done for. So don’t let him get to five sets. Break his serve early in the first––that’s your shot for an upset.”

“Yeah,” Bowe says. “I was thinking that too. About me being toast if it goes to five.”

“So you do it in three,” I say.

“Oh, sure, just take O’Hara in straight sets?” Bowe says. “It’s that easy, huh?”

“It can be. If you want it bad enough.”

“That’s not always true, Soto. But thank you. I appreciate the pep talk.”

SOTO VS. PEREZ

1995 Australian Open

Third Round

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