Hidden Secrets

12- Match Point

"I'm exhausted, I'm sore, I'm angry, I'm in pain" not to mention I feel like absolute shit after leaving Charles, I haven't been able to stop thinking about him.

Sofiia- "Just one more match lena, then you're done"

"I'm already pissed off from us loosing and now I have to fucking play" I groan, I'm currently laying face first into my bed, my two friends both beside me trying to get me to get up and get ready for my finals match tonight

Lucas- "Hate to break it to you, but this is in fact your job"

Sofiia- "Come on, you'll have fun once you're on the court"

"I want to scream at someone"

Lucas- "Just think of the fact that if you win, you get 2.9 million"

"This is not about money right now Luke"

Sofiia- "Yes, we know you don't play for the money but come on lena, get up"

Lucas- "You can pay to fly us all to a vacation with the money"

Sofiia- "We should go to Greece"

"Oh my god, I hate you guys" I finally get the energy to get up

Lucas- "Thank god, I was starting to think that I was the only one"

Sofiia- "Nope, been a hater since day one"

"Fantastic" I roll my eyes at the two, getting up I walk over to my closet picking out a white tennis dress from nike

"It's bad enough we lost in the literal quarter final because of some bullshit fucking ref but now that same ref is the one working this match"

Lucas- "We'll have him executed by tomorrow princess Helena"

"Fuck you" I can't help but smile at his stupid comment

Sofiia- "I saw a smile!"

Lucas- "Code red! She's broken!"

"You guys are idiots"

I know they're trying to help, but it's so hard to be positive when I played horribly in doubles, I completely threw it for us and I feel awful, I missed long on deciding point loosing the match for us

_

"Add out for Garcia" The line judge announces

This is it. Right here. I can't throw it.

It's my serve, breathe. I take a deep breathe, my vision comes back into focus as I see the ball girl raise her hand, bouncing two balls to me. Routine. Focus Helena. This is the same as any other point. No different.

Place one ball in my pocket bounce the one in my hand once, grab it again before bouncing it twice more. Adjust my foot on the line. Fix my necklace, tuck it below my shirt.

I look up after my routine, everything goes silent as they watch me toss the yellow ball, holding my breathe, I reach up, hitting the ball I allow myself to let out the breathe.

In, the point started.

She returns the ball quickly to my backhand, as the point grows my mind is racing, working to find exactly where I need to hit the ball to manipulate the point into my favor.

"Out, Match for Garcia"

I lost. The world goes quiet as the disappointment overwhelms me.

As if I'm on autopilot I walk up to the net, shaking her hand. Before I know it, I'm walking out of the tunnel into the locker room reserved for me.