“Okay. It’s late here, man. Give me till the morning, and I’ll get back to you.”
“Thanks, Josh. You’re a lifesaver.”
I shove my phone into my bag and head inside the stadium. There are people everywhere, even though it’s barely eight Monday morning and the first matches don’t start until after ten.
I make my way to one of the outdoor practice courts, where Cally is already waiting for me. I stand back and watch her work on her strokes. A smile plays on my lips: she’s doing exactly what I told her to work on yesterday. Why does this kid who listens to nobody listen to me? I don’t get it.
I cough, making my presence known. She looks up, wearing her trademark scowl.
“Late much?” she grumbles, and I laugh.
“I’m actually three minutes early.”
“Oh. Well, it feels like you’re late.” This kid is going to be amazing one day, if only because she’ll intimidate the hell out of her opponents. The attitude is good; it will help score her some major sponsors. It worked for me.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Fine, I guess.” Her eyes tell a different story. It’s the first time I’ve seen any vulnerability from this kid, and I can tell she’s terrified.
“Okay, pack your stuff up,” I order.
“What?” Her mouth falls open in shock. “But I thought—”
“I think you’ll benefit from just watching a few matches today. Get a feel for the crowd. You can be the best tennis player in the world, but if you can’t handle the pressure you’ll go nowhere.”
“Fine,” she finally says, yanking her bag over her shoulder. She glares at me before storming off the court. Fuck me. I could’ve handled that better. How many times this week am I going to be able to say that?
Get a grip, Ryder.
Chapter Eighteen
Scarlett
To say I was freaking out would be an understatement. I’m losing my fucking mind. Between Jake’s treatment and what Ryder told me about Tony, my head is a mess. I’ve tried calling Penny about a hundred times, and I can’t get through. I have no idea what I’m going to do. What if I end up in jail? What would happen to Jake?
“Look, Mom.” Jake holds up his painting proudly.
I smile, refusing to let him see my worry. “That’s pretty awesome,” I say. “Can I take it with me?”
“Yeah, I made it for you,” he says, as if my question is ridiculous. “Is Ryder coming in to see me?”
“He’s been in every day. As if he’d miss a chance to see his favorite boy.”
Jake’s eyes light up. “He said that?” he asks, excitement filling his voice. “I like him, Mom. Do you think he’ll come back home with us?”
His question leaves me feeling empty. We haven’t discussed our relationship at all, and now with this . . . who knows where we’re going?
Ryder walks into the room, and I sigh with relief. I didn’t know how to answer the question.
Jake’s eyes sparkle. “Ryder,” he exclaims. “You came.”
“Course I did,” Ryder scoffs, sitting down. “How are you feeling?”
Jake shrugs. “Okay. The injections make me feel sick, and I’m sleepy all the time.”
Ryder glances at me.
“The doctor says they’re pretty common side effects,” I explain. “His lung scans are already showing improvement.”