Page 73 of Courting Trouble
Cassie’s expression didn’t change. Her voice was steady, deliberate. ‘Use. It.’
Delilah trusted Cassie, so she tried. She shut her eyes and let it come.
Every insult. Every sneer. Every judgement. Not just about tennis. Everything. The bad auditions. Getting sacked from the soap. Her parents’ utter lack of belief in her.
She let it all wash over her. Then she searched for what Cassie said was there. The fight in her.
Her eyes snapped open.
‘OK, serve,’ she told Cassie.
Cassie smacked the ball at her, harder than usual. Delilah, teeth gritted, swung. Not wild this time. Controlled. Deliberate. She aimed, not at the court, not at the line, but straight at the chain-link fence where the girls were leaning.
The crack of the ball against metal was gunshot-loud. It smacked inches from their hands. Both girls shrieked and leapt back, one of them dropping her racket with a clatter.
Delilah stood tall, chest heaving, a grin stretching wide and fierce across her face. Rage had never felt so clean, so precise. And so fuckinggood.
Cassie’s eyes were on her, steady, approving. ‘You got it,’ she said simply.
Delilah twirled the racket in her hand, still buzzing, the adrenaline bright in her veins. For the first time, she wasn’t embarrassed. She wasn’t out of her depth.
She was dangerous.
Seventy-Two
Cassie’s heart was soaring. Delilah had found her fight, and a hell of an aim to boot. She needed time to enjoy that, feel it.
But Cassie’s elbow was throbbing now, dull and insistent. Normally, she’d lean on a ball machine for this kind of repetition, but there was no ball machine here. Just cracked courts, dodgy nets, and bitchy teenagers. It was so weird to be back here. She thought she’d never see this place again. It looked worse than she remembered. But it served a purpose, just as it had before. A place no one cared enough to throw you out of, a place to simply play. To get good.
One of the teenagers had already buggered off, clearly bored now that the entertainment had turned on her. But the mouthiest one was still leaning on her racket, chewing gum like she owned the place. Cassie had caught glimpses of her earlier, half-watching while Delilah stretched. She wasn’t bad.
Cassie had an idea that could really backfire.
‘Oi,’ Cassie called, rubbing her elbow. ‘Fancy a hit?’
The girl blinked, then smirked. ‘What, against her?’ She nodded at Delilah. ‘I’ll flatten her in five minutes.’
‘You think?’
‘That hit just now was a fluke,’ she said, with a look to Delilah. Delilah was still grinning.
‘Name?’ Cassie asked.
‘Whitney,’ she kid spat.
‘Alright, Whitney. Flatten her.’
Delilah straightened, the grin falling off her face. ‘Hold it. You wantherto play me?’
Cassie met her eyes. ‘You can handle her.’
Delilah opened her mouth, then closed it again, bristling. ‘Fine,’ she grumbled.
Whitney sauntered onto the court, shoulders loose, racket swinging at her side. She had that swagger kids have when they’ve got nothing to lose. It made Cassie deeply nostalgic.
‘Don’t worry,’ Whitney said to Delilah with a grin. ‘I’ll go easy on you.’
Delilah muttered something under her breath that Cassie didn’t catch. But she stepped into position, jaw tight, fire in her eyes.
