Page 33 of Game Point
‘But that’s not why we are friends,’ I said, ‘or why we talk.’
‘Whydowe talk?’ she pondered.
I shook my head, somehow still with a grin on my lips. ‘I think you want to keep tabs on me for the bet.’
‘Absolutely.’ She lit up, and I could hear her smile in her voice. ‘I’m not letting that go.’
‘But also, I like talking to you.’ I didn’t realize what I’d admitted until the words were out, too late to correct.
I like talking to you?I sounded like an idiot.
‘Of course, I’m a delight,’ she joked, relief overwhelming my small embarrassment.
I hummed, unable to stop myself, ‘A delight is not how many people would describe you, Dylan.’
She made a sound of horror. ‘And how would you describe me then?’
‘A terror.’ I didn’t even have to think about the correct words. I’ve heard about her before. Dylan Bailey, a terror on court. She was a thrill to watch, a nightmare to play.
‘I can’t argue. That does feel more likely,’ she laughed. ‘I like talking to you too. It’s lonely being out on the road.’
I thought back to our first meeting, the hotel bar, a few drinks in us both. She’d mentioned her family then, how much she missed them.
‘You must be counting down the days to Melbourne.’
Her response was immediate, like it was an impulse she couldn’t control. ‘Yes. I miss it. It’s a cliché but there’s nowhere like home.’
I let her words sit, feeling them too hard myself. And even though I’d be back tomorrow, I had this feeling like it wouldn’t cure the homesickness, like London wasn’t the answer I needed.
She continued, ‘It’s bittersweet. The closer it gets, the faster it seems to go. And the few weeks at home get taken up with tennis and competition. Before I know it, it’s time to leave and it barely feels like I’ve been home at all.’
I could feel her sadness, her disappointment seeping into my own bones. I swallowed away the lump in my throat. ‘You don’t ever take a break?’
A sharp laugh rang out. ‘Doyoutake a break?’
‘I mean … I’m overdue one,’ I admitted. ‘But yes. It helps.’
Another breathy laugh followed, and I could imagine her shaking her head, not truly believing that anyone took time away. ‘I wonder what Brooke would have to say about that.’
‘You’re the boss here,’ I reminded. ‘And if it means you come back stronger, what is she going to say about it?’
It could start to feel that way with some more controlling coaches. They tell us what to do, how to train, what to eat. It’s good to be reminded that we should be the ones calling the shots that matter. That we can say no.
‘I don’t think now is the time to ask for a break.’
I tried to stop myself, tried to remember the boundary we had, the very thing she had said she enjoyed about our friendship. But everything she was expressing; I couldn’t help it.
‘Honestly, Dylan, is it working out with her?’ My question a little sharper than I mean it to be, an overwhelming worry for her overtaking my self-control.
‘It’s fine,’ she gritted out the words. ‘I’m getting used to her coaching style. I’ve burned through a lot recently and I’m trying to stick this one out. See if it helps.’
I took a deep breath, hearing her words. And if that was what she wanted, to carry on, if that’s what she needed, then fine. She’d heard me and had a perfectly reasonable explanation.
‘I understand,’ I said calmly, ‘I don’t want to see you hurt. Or burnt out.’
‘I know.’ The call turned quiet, the tension holding out a few moments longer before she broke it with a joke. ‘But don’t worry. I’m famously difficult to coach.’
I forced a laugh. ‘I’ve heard.’
