I glanced up and looked at the clouds high above us that covered the sun.
“I’ll stay on this side.”
“Cool.” My brother pocketed three balls and barely glanced. “We’ll just
have a quick ten minute warm-up.”
“You know I get more curious when you don’t want to tell me.”
He looked at me, the corners of his mouth pulled tight. “All I know is her
name is Lucy and that she went to that fancy racket club over that way.”
Mike pointed over in the direction on the other side of Eden Street. “And
she’s damn good too.”
I nodded. “Okay then.” I backed up a step and looked over at Lucy, who
sliced her ball to land right in front of the net. “I wonder why she’s here,
and all alone.”
My brother shrugged and bounced a tennis ball on his racket. “Not our
business.” He caught the tennis ball and stuffed it away in his pocket as he
jogged to the baseline.
I backed up to the baseline, watching Lucy serve towards Eden Street. She
hit deep, slice, spin, and a hard serve down the line. The balls rolled to the
fence stopping in a seemingly perfect kite formation.
I watched as Lucy played with the strings on her racket before running over
to collect the balls. She stood over them, looking down at them from above
the dried-up worms and I swore her shoulders were shaking.
“Raph? Ready?”
I looked away from Lucy and at Mike, who instantly feeded the ball over
waiting behind me, waiting to walk across. I framed the ball and sent it into
the net, and when I saw it land in the net, I glanced back and saw Lucy
walk briskly behind the court towards the only working gate to the courts.
She had put her black sweats and hoodie on for warmth; she held her head
high and shoulders back –I could see the redness around her eyes.
Lucy disappeared through the gate and walked down Eden Street.
I didn’t see her for the rest of summer: my parents surprisingly let Mike and
I get a membership to that fancy racket place that Mike said Lucy had
gone too. I didn’t see Lucy on those courts again. -Amy Weed