Chapter 8 A very very bad idea

Allison

I hated Tuesdays.

No, scratch that, it wasn’t the day itself I hated, it was the fact that we had early European Monarchies as the first lecture every Tuesdays which particularly wasn’t my favorite amongst the other courses which I hated as well.

The professor droned on from the front of the room while I sat in the third row pretending to take notes.

In reality, I'd written exactly three words in the last twenty minutes.

‘Operation Annoy Kaden.’

Underneath it, I'd written: failure.

Twice.

Because one time hadn't adequately captured the humiliation.

I sighed and dropped my head into my palm.

Around me, students scribbled notes furiously.

Meanwhile, I couldn't tell you a single thing Professor Bennett had said since class started.

It was probably something about kings or wars or dead people doing dead-people things.

It was history afterall, and my major which I unfortunately had never liked.

I'd come to Saint University because of tennis. The academics had simply been a part of the package.

I remembered standing in this very building during freshman orientation.

Back then, none of this mattered.

I wasn't here to become a historian, I was here to win tennis matches. To play, make regionals, then nationals, and then maybe even go professional one day.

Everything else had been secondary.

Now I wasn't even sure that I could look at a tennis court without feeling sick.

The image of the scoreboard came to my head again, the crowd, the sound of the umpire announcing the match.

I quickly looked away from my notebook. Not today.

I was tired of replaying that match in my head, tired of seeing every mistake and the opportunity that I lost. And also wondering what would've happened if I'd never opened that storage room door.

Maybe I'd be preparing for Regionals right now, while still also being deluded into thinking that Sean loved me and wouldn’t cheat on me.

I couldn't decide which one was worse.

"Miss Smith."

The professor’s voice jolted me from my string of thoughts. I glanced up to see that he was staring right at me.

The rest of the class were staring too. I knew that they all thought the same thing when they saw me, that I was still sullen about losing the match.

After the match that day, I had avoided classes altogether. But then, I had to eventually show up if I didn’t want to have an extra year.

I wasn’t doing well academically anyways. Tennis has been the orbit thing keeping my grades stable.

"Would you care to answer the question?" The professor said, making me glance at the whiteboard.

I couldn’t even understand a thing she had written.

"What question?"

A few students snickered.

The professor sighed. "The question I asked thirty seconds ago."

Obviously, I wasn't listening and he knew it.

I smiled weakly. "Could you repeat it?"

More laughter.

Great. I was now the clown of the school.

Professor Bennett pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What were the primary causes of the War of the Austrian Succession?"

The Austrian what now?

There was a long silence as I stared at him.

He stared and the entire class stared as well.

I had absolutely no idea.

I glanced down at my notebook as though the answer might magically appear between "Operation Annoy Kaden" and "Failure."

"I..."

Nothing.

Professor Bennett sighed again.

"Perhaps next time you'll pay attention."

My face burned with shame. "Yes, Professor."

Fortunately, he moved on and i unfortunately spent the rest of the lecture wanting the floor to swallow me whole.

The second class ended, I practically sprinted out of the room.

Thank God!

I adjusted the strap of my bag and began to walk towards the student’s center.

I was halfway across campus when a familiar voice called out my name. "Smith."

I froze and recognized the voice instantly.

No, absolutely not. I was not ready to see her now. But as I turned around, I confirmed it was indeed her.

Coach Lindsay stood a few feet away, her arms crossed and an unreadable expression on her face.

I plastered a smile on my face. “Hey, Coach! What's up?”

She didn't seem impressed by my attempt to lighten the mood. Which meant I was in deep shit.

"You've been a difficult girl to come across." She started.

I forced a smile, "Really? I've been around, you just probably haven't noticed."

The stern look on her face didn't so much as flicker. "Don't play smart with me, girl. You've missed eight practices."

The smile disappeared.

Right.

There was that.

She took a step closer. "And you've ignored every text message I've sent."

"I didn't ignore them."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "You didn't send a reply."

"...That's different."

"No, it isn't."

Fair point.

I looked away, suddenly finding interest in a maple tree at the opposite side.

"What's going on?" She asked. She didn’t sound furious but her voice wasn't calm either.

I didn't like when it was impossible to read her.

"Nothing."

"Try again."

I let out a deep sigh, "I'm just taking some time."

She furrowed his brows. "From tennis?"

I didn't respond, but my silence was answer enough. I don't think I could go back to the court soon. I didn't know what it was about this particular loss but it seem to make it impossible to do anything else.

Coach Lindsay shook her head. "You know what I think?"

I shook my head.

"I think you're scared."

I frowned, "I'm not scared."

"Really?" She folded her arms. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're avoiding the thing you've spent years working towards."

I opened my mouth and then closed it, realizing that I didn’t have a response for her.

He continued, "I know about the breakup."

I winced.

Of course she did. Coach Lindsay cares so much about her players and she always go to great length to know what's going on with us. And hee star player missing eight practices was definitely enough to spike up her worry.

"I know it was rough. I've heard your teammates talking about it."

Understatement of the century.

"But is that it? Are you really going to give up on your dream because of a breakup and because you didn't make Regionals?"

My chest tightened, "It's not like that."

"Then explain it to me."

I swallowed hard. How was I supposed to explain that every time I thought about tennis, I remembered failing?

How was I supposed to explain that the court no longer felt like home and that I had lost confidence in myself?

"I'm just taking some time,” I said instead.

She stared at me for a long time and then nodded. "Fine."

I sighed in relief.

"You can take today," she continued and I frowned. "You can take tonight, but if you're not at practice tomorrow, I have no choice but to kick you off the team.”

I blinked in surprise. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me."

I blinked rapidly.

Surely she wasn't serious, she couldn’t be.

But she looked very serious.

"You can't be serious." If she wasn't serious about it before, that statement clearly made her.

"I am." She confirmed.

I swallowed the painful lump in my throat.

Coach Lindsay sighed, "I'm not doing this because I'm angry."

"Then why?"

"Because you're letting one bad moment define you."

I closed my eyes, holding the tears from spilling. She was saying the truth and it hurt so much.

"You have the talent, Allison." Her voice softened, "And more importantly, you love this."

She glanced at her watch. "I have another meeting,” she pointed at me again, "If you don't come to practice tomorrow, you're off the team. I mean it."

Of course, she does.

With that, she walked away, leaving me standing there in the middle of campus.

Alone.

The noise of students moving around suddenly felt distant.

I stared at the ground.

Tomorrow. I had until tomorrow to decide what my future with tennis would be.

I knew Coach was right. I was scared. Scared of failing again, scared of trusting again, scared of…everything. And that fact that she knew and was right about everything was the annoying part.

I couldn't avoid tennis forever.

Sooner or later, I'd have to step back onto the court.

Sooner or later, I'd have to face what happened.

And honestly, I wasn't sure I was ready.

I needed something else, anything at all to distract me and immediately, my brain supplied an answer.

Kaden.

Specifically, Operation Make Kaden Feel Something.

I frowned and then I burst out laughing.

Coach wanted me to stop hiding, but unfortunately, I wasn't emotionally mature enough for that yet.

But I was emotionally immature enough to annoy Kaden Blackwood.

And suddenly, I had a very, very good idea.

A terrible idea.

The kind Sophie would immediately approve of.

I pulled out my phone, my fingers flying across the screen.

‘Emergency meeting tonight. I have a new plan.’

Three dots appeared almost instantly.

Sophie: Is it illegal?

Me: No.

Sophie: Disappointing.

I laughed and then continued typing.

Me: I finally know how to annoy Kaden.

The response came so fast it was almost concerning.

Sophie: Tell me EVERYTHINGGG

A slow grin spread across my face.