His Match

Grow A Pair

ETHAN

When I was fourteen my dad entered me into a competition down here in the Hamptons one summer. It was a tennis championship at the country club. I lost in the semi-final to Jason Batterman. The kid was the star of the club, he was truly gifted and I was happy I lost to the winner of the tournament that year. He gathered crowds to watch him at even that age. He annihilated the other guy in the final, and I mean crushed him. I was never a star in tennis, football was more my thing. What motivated me to play was the cheerleaders and the parties afterward. I was a typical guy who loved to be social and that's how I did it. Although, our school wasn't big on it we all still worshiped it.

Ever since that summer tournament, I haven't touched a racket. Until today.

"Your backhand is fucking awful Ethan. Follow through before I smash this over your head" Cole threatens me. Cole is competitive in case you haven't realised. We're both sweating pretty hard that we're almost naked on the court. Shirts off and the band of shorts rolled up to get more air onto our skin. It's fucking scorching today. It doesn't help when the tennis wives walk by every minute making sure they give us a wave.

"I haven't played in years Cole, so shut the fuck up. I'm trying, aren't I?" I point the racket at him emphasising he needs to shut the fuck up before I smash my racket over his own goddamn head.

"You know where you need to start trying" He sasses back and I roll my eyes knowing where this is leading to. Yet again. I raise my body up from the crouched and ready position to listen to what he has to say, yet again. "Yeah, you know the woman you asked out in front of everyone at dinner last night. Yeah, the same woman you haven't spoken to since or for the entire week. Great move, by the way, Casanova, real smooth. You're a natural at this" He chides over the other side of the court. Bravery at its finest. You know how people say there are keyboard warriors, yeah, well Cole is an over the net or barrier warrior. He thinks I can't just jump over it a beat his ass senseless. I can and I will if he doesn't shut up anytime soon.

"You're lucky you're over there" I serve the ball with so much aggression in my swing. Bored of waiting for him to continue the game, I took matters into my own hands and yet I can't do that in my everyday life.

"Ohh is that a threat" he smacks it back to me.

"Damn fucking right! I don't see you trying to swoon Baker anytime soon dipshit" I bounce it back off the threads in the middle of my racket making him run to the other side of the court he's on. I did that on purpose.

"I don't need to swoon, I have my girl" he bites back with the ball coming back at me.

"Yeah? Why haven't you been on a date!" I bellow across at him taking it out on the ball.

"I- FUCK OFF!" He yells in frustration because he knows I'm right. This is the longest rally we've had so far. The ball is cutting through the air as it flies back against for between us.

"Thought so idiot!" I grill him and he swings his racket to hit the ball again.

"Listen, you need to cut the shit and grow a pair!" He orders me and I start to get pissed off if I wasn't before.

"You grow a fucking pair" I bellow back and he glares at me again.

"You're all talk and no action Ethan, you always have been" he smacks the ball and I let it bypass me. I step closer to the net diving us. Both of us are fuming at one another right now because we're both in a predicament and were both calling each other out on it. "You say a lot of shit but rarely carry through with it. If I were her, I'd walk. You've done nothing but pull her emotions in every direction man and it's not fair on her, or you. Grow a pair and tell her how you feel. What you told your mom and I last night means shit to us if you don't tell her!"