Page 33 of Backhanded Compliments

Juliette doesn’t mean to, but her racket connects awkwardly with the ball and nails Kacic in the shoulder.

A gasp ripples through the crowd and Juliette smacks a hand over her mouth in shock. Kacic straightens, but when she looks back, she’s laughing. “Guess I should’ve clarified. Hit it hardat them!”

Giggles rise in Juliette, and even though she tries to stifle them, she can still hear them in her voice as she yells, “Sorry!”

The rest of the service game is just as messy. Juliette has to duck twice to avoid getting smacked by Kacic’s racket. But they pull it together to win the game.

“You’re both doing well,” Payton says, leaning in between them, elbows on the back of the bench. “I think you can break Remi if you aim most of your returns at Nadia. She is weaker at the net, so try not to hit the return back crosscourt to Remi.”

Juliette nods and pops the last of her banana into her mouth.

“Be mindful of each other. You’ve almost run into each other multiple times,” Karoline says, appearing next to Kacic.

Juliette nods. “We’ll get into it. Right, Kacic?” She holds out her fist for Kacic to bump, and she does. A bright burst of tingles zings against her skin, giving her a boost of energy.

“You’re not serving so I think my shoulder is safe,” she says, and Juliette laughs.

“I really am sorry about that.”

“Sure you are,” Kacic says, her eyes glittering with amusement. Juliette’s stomach swoops, unsure of how to navigate this odd truce they’ve shakily built on the court.

Just keep playing.

“Time,” the umpire calls. Juliette grabs her racket, jogging around the net. At the baseline, Juliette bounces on her toes.

Remi lines up on the baseline and bounces the ball as the crowd murmurs fall away, leaving only quiet. Remi’s eyes flick up for a brief second before she rocks back and serves.

Kacic drills the ball back at Nadia, who barely gets her strings on it and pops the ball. Juliette moves in and punches the volley cleanly, angled and short, winning them the point.

The crowd claps, and Juliette pumps her fist.

“Nice volley, Jules!” Payton cheers from the bench. Karoline sits next to her, elbows on her knees as she watches with her intense gaze. She nods slowly, but her face is impassive.

Juliette moves back to the baseline and catches Kacic’s hand as they move past each other. Remi is already ready by the time Juliette crouches in position. Remi switches up her serve and kicks it into her forehand, wide and unexpected.

Juliette slices it back crosscourt, too caught off guard to attempt to hit it at Nadia.

Remi hits a near-perfect drop shot, but Juliette is faster. She slides on the hard court, her shoes squeaking as she pops the ball over Nadia’s head.

“Switch!” Nadia calls out, shuffling to the opposite side as Remi skids into the ball, throwing it up into a high lob.

With her and Kacic at the net together, Juliette is very aware that they are slightly out of position and definitely awkward. She backs up.

So does Kacic.

The ball arcs across the lights, aiming for the middle of the court.

Juliette doesn’t think about it. She’s unused to sharing the court with anyone.

“Got it!” Juliette says just as Kacic calls out, “Mine!”

Juliette split steps, about to move forward and slam the overhead when she collides with a warm, solid body.

It happens so fast that Juliette doesn’t even process falling, but suddenly she’s on the ground, tangled with Kacic, and there is pain.

Bone-jarring and horrific pain.

“Fuck,” she whimpers, holding on to her wrist. She squeezes, and the pain triples.

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