Page 29 of Backhanded Compliments

There are no blisters, no scabs, no peeling. It’s as if she was never burnt at all; only lightly tanned skin is left behind.

She rips her phone off the charger and immediately searches the internet for answers, fingers shaking.

Can a soulmate’s touch cure sunburn?

She clicks on the first article from a nonsponsored site and reads through the research. Most of it is the theoretical hypothesis of soulmates being able to cure each other’s ailments. One couple claimed that by bathing each other every day, they’d been able to rid themselves of cancer.

Luca doesn’t know if she believes that, but she finds another reputable site that does say there is evidence that the touch of a soulmate heals superficial injuries like cuts, bruises, and burns, as long as there isn’t serious damage. There’s more scientific jargon about how the physical connection energizes cells or something, but Luca feels satisfied with the answer.

She knows that Juliette is her soulmate. It shouldn’t be strange that Juliette can heal her burn with her touch. There is nothing significant to this and so she won’t give it any more thought.

But that’s the thing about trying not to think about something; it invades Luca’s brain and twists in on itself. She thinks about it fromevery angle until it’s unrecognizable from the original thought. Her brain focuses on the way Ricci’s hands had been so sure on her skin, but careful. Just enough pressure to feel, but not enough that her calluses scratched against the burn. Then Juliette’s hand had coasted down Luca’s sternum, fingers spreading to nearly touch her nipple. Almost as if Juliette wanted to touch Luca lovingly, instead of just to help get rid of a nasty sunburn.

She shakes off the thoughts as best she can and heads downstairs. Most of the villa is awake and moving around. A basket of fruit sits on the island, and Luca snatches a banana even though she doesn’t feel particularly hungry.

She leans against the counter, feeling awkward and out of place. Octavia, Claudia, and Remi are at the stove, scrambling eggs and chopping fruit. Well, Octavia is scrambling eggs, Remi is chopping, and Claudia is pounding an energy drink at an alarming rate. Juliette and Zoe are drinking coffee in the lounge, and from the snippet of conversation she hears, Zoe is complimenting the espresso, which makes Juliette’s whole face light up.

Luca isn’t used to being in a room full of other players. Especially not in such a casual setting. She shrinks into her hoodie, peeling her banana. She pulls out her phone to distract herself and sees a message from Nicky.

NICKY

good luck today! remember to try to make friends!

LUCA

Okay, Mom

Luca hesitates over the call button. Part of her wants to tell Nicky about the previous night, if just to ask about the healing touch of a soulmate. But a larger part of her wants to keep it a secret. Not out of shame, but because she wants to tuck that nice moment close to herchest. Nicky would probably scold her for not using sunscreen, then be annoyed that she let Juliette close to her. He would remind her of her other relationships that had started with small gestures like that, and how they had ended.

Claudia tosses her empty can into the recycling bin, and it rattles, startling Luca out of her brooding.

“Good morning, Luca,” Claudia says with a yawn cutting through her words.

“Late night?” Luca asks, her throat sticking around the words awkwardly. She shoves her phone into her pocket and shovels half the banana in her mouth to distract herself.

Claudia shakes her head as she pulls another drink out of the fridge. “No, early morning. Can’t believe they’d make us practice this early.”

Luca shrugs. “Gets it out of the way. I like it.”

Claudia snorts. “I’ll let you get all the balls and take a nap on the back of the court.”

“I can see the tweets now. ‘Claudia Ricci caught sleeping during the Connolly Cup! Is philanthropy a snooze?’?” Luca jokes.

Claudia cackles, and Luca’s chest warms with satisfaction. She can be friends with other players. She doesn’t have to stand awkwardly on the side like she does in the locker room. Maybe this weekend won’t be so bad.

The rest of their conversation is cut off by the front door opening.

“Good morning, ladies!” a bright voice calls, the vowels wrapped in a coiling French accent.

“Oh, excellent, they’re actually awake,” a distinctly American voice drawls.

The Fierce Four enter in a whirlwind, led by the youngest, Aurore Cadieux. She looks like she’s hardly aged a day from her debut on the tour. Payton Calimeris has her arm thrown around Aurore’s neck, a paper bag under her other one. Seeing her in real life takes Luca’s breath away. Luca modeled her game on Payton Calmeris. She always said it was because Payton was the best on a hard court, but really it was because she had an intense crush on her when she was a teenager.In person, she looks even taller, especially with her thick and wildly curly black hair fluffed up around her, streaks of silver in a few of the ringlets. She is the oldest and retired first, but she is still thick with solid and corded muscle. On the court, she was calm and icy, but now she’s grinning. Even though she had three months to prepare to meet the rest of the Fierce Four Luca can’t breathe.

“Who is ready to play some tennis?” Karoline asks as she sweeps in next, Victoria Ferreyra on her heels. She winks at Luca and a bit of her nerves melt away. They want her here. She was specifically asked to be a part of this team, and that means that Karoline Kitzinger believes in her.

“I’ll be ready once I have one more caffeinated drink,” Claudia mutters.

The four of them integrate into the kitchen, as easy as breathing. “We brought—what are they called again, Karo? Malozolli?” Payton asks, hoisting the bag up and dropping it onto the island counter.

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