Slammed, стр. 36
“Take the reporter with you,” my mother answered right back. “Obviously play it down, but it will get you some sympathy. Celeste isn’t so far behind, and if your number-one spot slips over the next few weeks, it would be good to have a narrative.”
This time I groaned out loud. Was anything not completely stage-managed?
“Yeah, run along,” Alice said, back to bright and breezy. “Make sure you don’t accidentally tell the journalist you’re gay. Would hate that to become public knowledge.”
“Va’ fan!” My mother cursed under her breath. I knew what the end of her patience looked like and we were fast approaching it. “This is some gay thing? Drop it, both of you. Now.”
I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at Alice, but I came pretty close. Luckily for all of us, the Times journalist had found himself bored enough to approach our warring group just in that moment.
“Elin, hi!” Okay, clearly we’d met before. I wished I was better at faces. “We haven’t met, but ninety minutes watching you clean up on court and I feel like I’ve known you forever.” Just a bit too friendly then. I felt my straight-guy-defences activate and slide into place.
“Hi…” My mother mouthed Frank at me. “Frank. Thanks for taking the time. I have my physio waiting for me back in the locker rooms, if you want to grab a drink to go?”
“Sure, I can work with that,” he said. I waited for him to ask what was wrong, but the question didn’t come. Great, a real empathetic type. “So do you stick around tomorrow and watch the men’s final too? Or is it more check out once you get the trophy?”
I summoned some patience and walked him out past a couple of servers so he could swipe a drink. This was going to be a long afternoon. For a moment I wished I was the kind of person who loved the crowd, so I could have stayed to soak up the attention and blown off the interview instead.
My phone vibrated as we approached the changing room, and I checked it despite my better judgment.
Hope you didn’t mind me talking about your ass.
I smiled like a dopey idiot. Why would I mind? Just try to keep it off ESPN.
“Right in here, Frank. This is Ezi, the best physiotherapist in the world.”
They shook hands, letting me read the slowly typed reply.
That just sounds like a challenge. What do I win if I mention it in my next interview?
Suddenly the journalist and the poking and prodding from Ezi didn’t seem so bad, not even when she ran through the initial checks and confirmed it would be another trip to the doctor.
Everything just seemed that bit more bearable with Toni’s messages brightening up the day.
Chapter Thirteen
I made it to Singapore, though only with a week of regular training behind me. At least my hip had healed good and proper this time, no rushing to be ready.
This would be our last year playing the finals in Singapore, with the next few years already booked up for China. I was almost sad to see the change, although the prospect of visiting somewhere new was one of the few things that tempted me to keep competing, at least for another year. As I made my way through Changi Airport, I stopped and blinked at the realisation. That was the first time in ages that I’d thought about next season before someone dragged me into talking about it.
Why did it feel like Toni’s influence, however indirectly?
We’d been texting back and forth, nothing I could point to and say “Look, flirting,” but I was glad to see her name on my phone almost every time I looked at it. Especially since Alice, still pissed about me letting her down for her queer charity drive, hadn’t been talking to me at all.
“Ms Larsson?” The driver held up a sign. A small crowd had gathered, players arriving all around the same time despite the different corners we were arriving from.
Travelling first class definitely had its perks, including not having to handle the ton of luggage that I dragged with me from country to country all year. With just my backpack of essentials, I slipped into the waiting SUV and the airline porters loaded the bags for me. Parisa followed on, taking care of tips and everything else until we set off for the hotel. My phone vibrated into life as soon as I turned it on.
Landed?
I couldn’t deny just seeing Toni’s name on the screen had put a spring in my step as we crossed the hotel lobby.
At the St. Regis about to check in
She startled me by calling. What kind of person did that? Calls could be overheard and gave no time for thinking up witty things to say. I was bad at phones, but texting I could handle. I answered anyway, since thinking up an excuse would have taken even longer.
“Are you really staying at the St. Regis?” Toni said. “I thought you’d be in one of those crazy super hotels somewhere. We can breakfast together. I mean, if you wanted.”
“I guess that means you’re staying here…” I trailed off, spotting her on the opposite side of the marble lobby. Xavi stood a little way from her, surrounded by their bags and arguing with someone in a bellhop uniform. I decided to risk it and jogged over as soon as I hung up. “Hey.”
“I didn’t think you were going to make it. The girls were gossiping, and they said you wouldn’t be back before Australia.”
“And let Celeste sneak past me?” I acted like I’d never been so offended and probably looked like a complete idiot in the process. “You must be up in the rankings to make this. Congrats.” I said it so smoothly no one could ever prove I’d been tracking her numbers relentlessly since Wimbledon.
Xavi interrupted, the Spanish far too fast for me even to pick out words,