Holding On (50 page)

“Let’s
pack
up
and
go
talk
to
your
mom.
If
you
want
to
do
this,
you are
going
to
need
to
read
these
papers.
There’s
a
lot
of
information
here, and you need to know what you’re really getting into before you
sign
on the dotted
line.”

“Right.
Read…talk…sign.”
That
was
all
I
could
manage
at
that moment.

He
pulled
me
to
his
side,
and
we
walked
back
inside
the
courts.
With
his
arm
wrapped
protectively
around
me,
I
felt
safe.
I
felt
like
I could
do
almost
anything
at
that
moment,
even
play
for
the
U.
The
only thing I was concentrating on though was standing
upright.

Coming
back
from
an
injury
was
hard.
Staying
strong
after
an
injury was
even
harder.
All
my
insecurities
about
my
game
were
centered around getting hurt again. If I hurt my shoulder, I could be done
with
the
game
forever.
Did
I
want
to
risk
that
by
playing
this
fall?
If
I
got hurt,
would
I
be
able
to
recover
in
time
to
play
for
the
high
school
in
the spring?
Would
I be able to recover at
all?

We
packed
up
and
headed
back
to
my
house
in
silence.
There really wasn’t much I could say that was going to change how scared
I was about getting hurt again. I needed to stay healthy, I needed to
stay
strong, and I needed to make sure that, above everything else, I
didn’t push myself beyond what my body was capable of. At least not until
I know that I am completely
healed.

I
was
very
lucky
to
make
it
through
the
spring
season.
My
mom thought that it was a fantastic opportunity.
We
go through the
contract line by line after dinner, with Ethan there to help interpret some of
the jargon for us. He seemed to know a little more about the program
than he let on in the beginning. By the end of the night, my mom had
agreed to let me do this if I wanted to. I agreed to at least let myself
try.
It
was
the
only
way
that
I
could
prove
to
myself
that
I
might
still
be
good enough to get a scholarship. It was the only way that I would be able
to prove to myself that I was good enough to compete on a higher
level.

I
signed
the
documents
the
next
morning,
and
so
did
my
mom.
Ethan agreed
to
drive
me
to
the
U
to
bring
them
to
Mr.
Jones.
As
I
handed
them over, fear swept through my
body.
I knew that I was making the
right decision, but I couldn’t help but admit to myself that I was
scared.

The
only
thing
left
to
do
was
to
enroll
in
at
least
one
class
to make
it
official.
Ethan
walked
me
over
to
the
admissions
office
and gave me a small tour of the campus in the process. I decided to take
a journalism class and a graphic design class. If I was going to make
the trek downtown to campus twice a week, I was going to make it
worth
my
while.

After
a
pit
stop
at
the
high
school
to
sort
out
my
regular
class schedule,
we
went
to
lunch
to
celebrate.
I
was
not
sure
if
there
was
really anything to celebrate yet, but at the moment, I really didn’t
care.

Today
had
been
a
big
day
for
me.
I
had
enrolled
in
my
first
college
class, and I was officially playing tennis for a major university, sort
of.

“So are you excited?” Ethan asked.

“
Nervous
is
how
I
would
describe
it.
We
start
practice
the
week
after
next,
and
I
have
no
idea
what
I’m
doing.
Thankfully
you’ll
be
able to be there the first week. When do you leave again?” I
rambled.

“I have to move into the dorms the last Friday of the
month.”

“So basically, you’ll get to see me practice the first four days,
and then
off
you’ll
go.
That
sucks!
I
wanted
to
do
something
special
for
your last week here. Now I have practice all
day.”

“You’ll
be
fine.
We’ll
find
time
to
hang
out.
It’s
not
like
your practice last from sun up to sun down.
You’re
done by lunch every
day,
and
I
will
make
sure
you
get
to
bed
early
enough
to
get
a
solid
eight hours of sleep.
Promise.”

“I’m not worried about being well rested. I’m worried about
you leaving me.
With
all the time I’ve committed to this program, how am
I going to be able to see you
now?”

“We
will make time.
You’ll
see.
We’ll
see each other so much
that it’ll
feel
like
I’m
suffocating
you.”
He
was
teasing
me,
and
when
my eyes locked on his, I could see the promise he was making me. I
could see something else in his eyes, something I’ve never seen there
before. Love?

No.
There’s
no way that this man loves me.
He’s
never once said
it, but
I
can
feel
it.
I
can
feel
how
much
he
cares
for
me.
Can’t
I?
Are
those the feelings he has for me, or
are
those the feelings I have for
him?

“Well,
I
would
hate
to
feel
suffocated.”
My
voice
cracked
as
I
forced the words out of my mouth. I was trying to lighten the mood, but
since
our eyes were still locked on each other’s, it felt like I was
suffocating at that very moment. I was drowning in every emotion that I felt. I
was
scared. I was worried. I was in
love.

Inseparable
. It was the only word to describe how Ethan and I
have been over the last two weeks. Since I signed my contract with the
U,
he
and
I
had
been
prepping
each
other
for
our
upcoming
seasons.
Every morning, we go out early and
play.
Every evening, after it starts to
cool off, we would go for a run.
It’s
the same routine every
day,
and just
as my
body
was
starting
to
adjust,
it
was
time
to
start
practice
with
the
U’s
“Super Seniors” team. Thank you, Ethan, for that ridiculous
nickname.

On the first few days of practice, Ethan drove me there. He
didn’t stay and watch, knowing that I would be even more nervous if he did. Instead,
he
went
back
to
his
house
and
packed
while
I
practice.
The thought made me sad and a little bit nauseated. I knew that he
was
leaving
on
Friday,
but
I
had
to
keep
my
head
on
straight,
or
else
the coach would take it off for
me.

The
other
girls
that
were
selected
to
play
were
good.
I
was
the
only one from my high school, which surprised me. I could see that some
of the other girls already knew each
other.
I wondered if I was going to
be able
to
make
friends
or
if
they
were
going
to
make
this
a
competition between us. It really was a competition between us in a
way.

I
kept
my
focus
on
the
ball.
I
was
hitting
with
the
two
singles
player, Kennedy,
and
practicing
my
backhand
when
I
see
Ethan
outside
the fence. I was comfortable in his presence, but Kennedy was
obviously not and completely missed an easy shot. I knew that she was staring
at him. I used to have the same look on my face the first few times I saw him. His raw beauty would stop you in your
tracks.

“That’s
about
it
for
today,
ladies.”
The
coach’s
voice
sliced
through the
air,
and
I
turned
to
see
that
he
was
standing
just
inside
the
court with a stack of papers in his hand. “I have your schedules for
practice and
tournaments.
They
may
change
a
little,
but
this
will
give
you
the big picture. Most of your tournaments are set in stone, so if you have
a conflict, I need to know in the next couple of
days.”

We
all packed up our stuff, walked toward the coach, and, one
by one,
grabbed
our
schedules.
The
first
thing
I
noticed
was
that
the
last tournament was on my birthday.
Ugh!
Who plays tennis in
December?
People without
snow,
I
guess.

Scanning
the
area
for
Ethan,
I
was
almost
to
the
gate
when
I
noticed that
he
was
talking
to
my
coach.
When
did
he
come
onto
the
court?
I turned around, dropped my bag, and headed back in their direction,
but as I approached, they stopped talking.
That’s
odd. What
information was I not privy to these
days?

“Hey,
gorgeous.
Ready
to
go
get
lunch?”
Ethan
asked
a
little
too eagerly.

“Sure.”
You
could hear the hesitation in my voice as I dragged
the word out a little longer than
necessary.

As
if
he
hadn’t
heard
the
difference
in
my
voice,
he
grabbed
my hand,
and
we
started
to
walk
over
to
the
gate
to
pick
up
my
bag.
“Where would you like to go today? There’s this really good Indian place
just off
campus
if
you
wanna
try
some
place
new.”
“That
sounds
fine.”
I hesitated only a second before
continuing.

“What were you talking to coach Miles
about?”

“Nothing
really.
I’ve known him for a few years. I was just
saying hi.”

“Oh,
okay.”
There I was, dragging out the syllables again, hoping he would continue. He did not, so I asked the question I knew he
didn’t want me to. “How do you know
him?”

“He’s
been
around
for
a
while.
He
used
to
scout
for
the
U,
and
I’ve talked to him a couple of
times.”

“Does that mean that he tried to get you to play
here?”

“Yeah.
We
talked a while
back.”

“And…?”
This
time
I
was
sure
that
I
was
getting
the
message across. Just to make sure, I stopped walking and looked him straight
in the eye, giving him my best
“Tell
me more” look.

“I told you. I made my decision before you came home. Other
than that,
there’s
nothing
else
to
talk
about.
A
lot
of
places
scouted
me.” Ethan stated
firmly.

I guess that was the end of that conversation. He tugged lightly
on my hand, and I fell in step with him. This was such a touchy topic
for him that I let it go. He was planning on telling me on Friday before
he left,
right?

Our
conversation
over
lunch
was
kept
light.
No
talk
of
college, tennis,
or
anything
that
was
going
to
make
either
of
us
think
on
a
deeper level.
I
was
relieved
that
we
were
able
to
keep
from
talking
about
tennis.
We
had
done
nothing
but
practice
and
play
over
the
last
few
weeks,
and a mental break from it was what I needed.
We
hadn’t played
each other since I started to practice with the U team, but we still kept to
our nightly
runs.

I couldn’t help but allow my mind to drift back to the courts a
little though. Playing with Ethan was special. He challenged me in ways
that no
coach
or
opponent
ever
would
be
able
to.
I
remember
the
day
the scout showed up.
Wait.
He knew the scout. He knows my coach.
What am
I
missing?
Did
he
visit
the
U
while
I
was
in
Michigan?
Should
I
ask? He obviously didn’t want to talk about it, but I had to
know.

I was about to ask him as we pulled up to his house. As he
opened the garage, I noticed that his
dad’s
car wasn’t there.
We
were alone
for the time being. His dad would be at work for another two hours or so.
I couldn’t
think
of
anything
better
than
cuddling
up
to
Ethan
and
watching a movie right
now.
As he hustled me out of the car and into the house,
I realized that he had other
plans.

He pulled me across the threshold of his room and closed his
door as
I
realized
what
his
plans
were.
There
were
candles
and
rose
petals scattered
around
his
room
and
a
red
rose
on
his
pillow.
I
know
that different colored
roses
mean
different
things,
but
I
wasn’t
sure
what
red meant. I would have to look that up when I get
home.

Before I realize
what’s
going on, Ethan had lit every single candle and closed the curtains. The room was dark except for the light
coming from
the
fifteen
or
so
candles
that
were
burning.
I
could
feel
him approach
me,
and
when
he
wrapped
his
arms
around
my
waist,
I
melted into
him.