Author's Note: Well, I certainly hope you all haven't forgotten about this story. I know I haven't updated in forever, (like, a month. Sorry. I really didn't mean to keep you all waiting so long. My bad. Forgive me?) but I am working on getting better at that. And you have to cut me some slack for trying to keep two stories going at once. (Okay, so I might be flailing a bit here, but I'll get over it, I'm sure. Probably.) I've got a lot of things going on, especially now that my own tennis season is in full swing. (Aha, you catch that one? XD) Anyway.
Here we are. Chapter three. More character development and whatnot. More tennis, of course. And one of my favorite games involving tennis. Seriously, it's a lot of much fun. Alright, I'm done rambling. Go on and read, since that's what you're here for.
"Alright, everyone. As any late-comers filter in, how about we start off with a little game called King of the Court, eh?" Naomi stood in the center of the court, with twenty or so people gathered around her.
When she had first seen the motley crew, she couldn't help but be a bit surprised by the turn out. When they said all ages, they really meant it. There were kids there who looked like they couldn't be older than four, one of whom looked like he was trying to eat his raquet, handle first.
The masses moved their way up in age. There was a group of girls, probably around eleven or twelve, who were standing in the back, paying the blonde absolutely no attention, giggling to themselves.
A group of teenagers, both boys and girls, stood in the center of the crowd, trying to pretend as if they were listening, but clearly doing the same as the younger girls.
There were a few adults, probably ten or so years older than Naomi.
Three women were there who appeared to be around the age of seventy or eighty. Naomi couldn't help but thinking about the fact that one of them looked like it was a miracle she could manage to lift herself out of bed every morning. But hey, if the lady was willing to spend her time with a raquet in her hand, all the more power to her.
And then there was her. The one her favorite student had been so excited for her to meet. James's sister. The only other person there remotely close to the blonde's own age. Although, Naomi was fairly certain she remembered James telling her that his sister Katie was the same age as her, so that would make the redhead the same as well, right? Emily would be perhaps just a tad younger than Naomi. Emily.
Naomi stopped herself before she thought about what a lovely name that was. Emily. No, she had already decided that she could not pursue this one. It would be completely unprofessional, getting involved with one of her students' guardians. Actually, since she was attending the tennis clinic, that made her one of Naomi's students. Even more inappropriate.
Naomi clung to the idea that she couldn't go after Emily because of ethical/professional reasons. In all reality, she was almost positive that Cook and any of the others who worked with her would have no problem at all with her seeing one of her student's family members. In fact, Naomi was pretty sure that one of Cook's many short-term relationships was with one of his students' adoptive mothers. And then her partner. Needless to say, that family had switched gyms when Cook broke it off.
But Naomi needed a reason to not pursue anything with the older of her Fitch clients. She knew deep down that Emily wasn't just some girl she could fuck and then tell to fuck off. There was something about the way there was some kind of instant attraction sparked in her. The cherry red hair combined with the sweat-shined muscles of her back had had the blonde practically drooling the moment she laid eyes on her. But even more than that, her voice had seemed to block everything else out of existence. And even more than that, those eyes. The shining discs of mahogany-colored warmth that just engulfed her, left her mind blank of anything but the gorgeousness of the creature before her. She'd heard of people getting lost in a lover's eyes, but she had always just assumed it was one of those things people say when they're trying to be all cheesy and romantic. She'd never thought that any of that romance novel shit could possibly be based on actual experience. But there she was, having seen it first hand. It was that stupid corny moment you always read about where the rest of the universe is blocked out and the only thing you can possibly focus your mind on is the other person, and it scared the shit out of Naomi, because for a moment, it was rather fucking wonderful. That was not a good thing. Naomi Campbell was not one to fall for someone so easily.
Fuck, Naomi Campbell wasn't one to fall for someone at all.
For several years, Naomi had constructed herself a persona to put on around the girls she was attracted to. She made herself aloof, and the girls ate it all up. They thought she was just the coolest thing – mysterious, unapproachable. When she even glanced in their direction, it was perfectly calculated so that the blonde could assure herself a shag, without ever having to give anything of herself. That was the way she liked it. No emotion, no attachment, nothing. Just a good time and someone to keep the other side of the bed warm.
Things are always easier when you don't let yourself care.
That was why she couldn't let herself get to know this Emily Fitch. There was something about her that made Naomi's inhibitions slide away, without her even realizing until they were already gone. She couldn't have that. She needed to keep her distance.
"For those of you who have never played before, I'll explain the rules. There will be one player on this side of the court," she motioned, indicating the side behind her. "Everyone else will form a line on that side." She gestured again, pointing to the other side. "One at a time, I'll feed you a ball, and you'll play out the point against the person on this side, who is, essentially, King," she paused for half a beat, "or Queen, of the court. If you win against that person, I'll give you an overhead, and the two of you will play out that point. If you win against the king or queen on that second point, you then become whichever royal pronoun you prefer. Capeesh?"
There was a light grumble of understanding, and the group began shuffling their feet back towards the end of the court where the line started.
"James!" Naomi called the boy over, leaning down to speak quietly when he came jogging to her. "Why don't you start off as king, show 'em all how it's done?"
He smiled brightly, flashing the blonde a view of his famous James Fitch charm, only stopping to ask, "Sure thing, Coach Campbell. But can I be a queen, instead of king? I think I'd prefer that, really. I nearly borrowed one of Emily's skirts to play today, if that helps my case at all."
Naomi couldn't help but return his grin, shaking her head fondly. The kid was just so honest and genuine - even if he was a bit... unique, to say the least. He was his own person, and that was something Naomi hugely respected. "Like I said, you can be whatever royal pronoun you like. You could even be the court jester if it satisfies your interest. I'm sure that would be very fitting." She winked and waved him towards the baseline to get the game going.
James jogged over to his position and stood at the ready, his knees bent and his hands loosely gripping his raquet, ready for whatever his opponent would throw; or rather, hit, his way.
The first person in line, one of the teenagers who had only half paid attention, stepped forward, and Naomi hit him an easy ball, to his backhand. However, the boy's grip on his raquet was badly adjusted. He had clearly been expecting a forehand, which was exactly why the blonde woman in charge had hit it where she did. The boy hit the small, yellow-green ball off of the frame of his raquet, and it flew high above the court, almost touching the ceiling. It came back down, and landed inches away from the net, on the boy's own side of the court. He bowed his head, trying to hide the embarrassed pink flush that had begun to creep up his cheeks as the girls he'd been flirting with earlier laughed at his expense.
Naomi hid her own little triumphant smile. Really, the kid had gotten what he deserved. She paused for just a moment, and adressed the group. "I think we can all learn from the incidence we've all just borne witness to, can we not? Remember, what is the most important shot in tennis?"
She looked over the line of misfit tennis players, noticing how no one seemed willing to meet her eyes. She was about ready to throw out one of her famous eye rolls and turn to James, who surely knew the answer by this point, when she was met with a pair of strikingly familiar eyes, and froze in place. She almost didn't hear when Emily answered, "The first shot."
She stared at the redhead for a moment in surprise, her eyebrows raised a bit. She recovered quickly, blinking twice, and cleared her throat. "That's correct. The first shot, everyone! Don't miss the first shot."
She licked her lips, struggling to tear her own eyes away from that oh-so deep brown of one Ms. Fitch's. Naomi hadn't expected anyone to know the answer to that question. She was rather hoping to use her usual teaching tactic of making them feel just slightly foolish for not knowing, and then gracing them with that valuable nugget of intelligence. It wasn't often that someone actually knew the answer she was looking for, and could give it to her with such confidence. But then, she was James's sister. Perhaps he had just been talking about tennis with her and it came up. Yeah, Naomi would go with that.
The blonde took a deep breath and grabbed another tennis ball from the crate next to her, hitting it lightly to the next person in line, one of the little girls who she knew wouldn't have been paying attention. She did manage to get the ball over the net, though. James returned it softly, not wanting to be that mean person who totally crushed a little kid. She hit it back to him and they kept up a nice rally for some time until she, inadvertently, Naomi was sure, lobbed it over James's head and far enough back that he couldn't reach it before it came down and bounced a second time. He turned back, breathing just a tad bit heavily from running after the ball, with a big grin for the little girl. "Nice lob, hon. You really got me there." She smiled shyly, attempting to hide her face in her shoulder.
Naomi spoke kindly to the girl, reclaiming her concentration. "Okay, Lily. I'm going to hit you an overhead now." She hit the ball several feet above the girl's head. Lily raised her raquet, noticeably unsure of what to do, and swung wildly. Her raquet whiffed past the ball, making no contact, creating a healthy swoosh sound. Naomi gave her a soothing, "good try. You'll get it next time. Remember to keep your head up on those," before turning to the next candidate.
Once again, her eyes were met with that pair that she could really only describe as chocolate intensity. Emily.
She mentally berated herself harshly for the sweat that was forming on her hands. She had absolutely no reason to be made nervous by this person. They didn't even really know each other. They'd only met that day. Okay, so they had almost kissed, but the more she thought about that, the more Naomi had herself convinced that Emily was just being friendly and making banter, not flirting. Hell, she was probably straight as an arrow, too. But Naomi couldn't help it. There was something about this unknown cherry-haired creature that made her heart beat just that little bit faster.
She tried to subtly dry the moisture on her palms by twirling her raquet in her hands a few times over to get a tiny bit of wind on her skin and the surface of the grip of the raquet. It didn't help much.
Naomi took a ball from the crate and hit it a bit too lightly, sending it sailing gracefully right into the net. She rolled her eyes at herself. She breathed deeply through her nose and sent the next ball cleanly onto the other side of the court.
She'd unintentionally put quite a bit of spin on the ball, and it curved far to the redhead's backhand upon its first bounce. Emily didn't seem to have any trouble with it. In fact, she almost appeared to have been expecting it. She moved elegantly to the space where the ball was heading, brought her raquet back with both hands, then snapped it forward in one of the most beautiful one-handed backhands Naomi had ever seen. The blonde had always admired people who could pull off one-handed backhands. Naomi herself was only confident enough to use them with any regularity in the shallow space between the net and service line. This fun-sized Fitch had just taken a full backhand groundstroke from behind the baseline with one hand. Clearly their little bout in the weight room had been an accurate show of just how much power the smaller girl had. Naomi couldn't help muttering under her breath, "Well, color me impressed."
Her regard of the redhead's skill only grew as she played out the point with her brother. The blonde could easily tell that the two had played together before, as James hit her groundstroke back to her, with the same amount of power. Blue eyes were trailed on Emily the entire time, as she strategically moved toward the net, taking several running-steps toward a secure spot where she could hit every shot as a volley each time she hit a long ball back to James, keeping the distance just long enough to keep him back toward his own baseline as she moved gradually forward. It was very interesting for all those watching as the brother and sister battled it out on the tennis court. Naomi found herself rather proud of her young student, seeing him put to use the lessons he'd taken from her. They were almost perfectly evenly matched. One could see the sweat beginning to form on both of their brows and creating small stains on their shirts as they worked tirelessly to out-play the other. Naomi almost chuckled to herself as she saw two of the elder ladies whispering to themselves in the background, undoubtedly commenting on the "terrible sibling rivalry" that was unfolding before all of them.
Naomi had no idea how she knew, but she was positive that it didn't have anything to do with them really wanting to beat the other. It struck Naomi as more of a case where both players just wanted to be the absolute best they could, and if it meant beating their sibling in a game of King of the Court, then so be it. She could see that the Fitch family was a competitive one, but not to the point where the members of each party became hostile. She could see them cracking smiles at each other when they hit particularly spectacular shots, though she wasn't sure how they managed to when so much energy was being poured into this fantastic display of both their talents.
She was just about convinced that this point really would last forever, when James took one step too little towards the ball his sister had hit and had to over compensate, causing him to lose his balance a bit. Emily saw this and took advantage of it, smashing a power volley in the opposite half of his side of the court. He knew there was no way he'd be able to reach it in time, and hit the heel of his palm on his strings a few times, applauding her and accepting his defeat.
When she hit her overhead, Naomi was just glad she didn't blink, otherwise she would have missed it. It really was quite a sight to behold. Naomi found herself growing more and more impressed with this girl she'd just met. The redhead seemed to have a natural talent and grace about her when she stepped onto the tennis court. Anyone could see she was skilled, and it appeared as though Emily knew it too. But she didn't seem like she liked to show off or showboat her abilities. She took everything with class and respect. That, apparently, was another thing Fitch's had in common. The ball bounced hard once just beyond the service line, then above James's head and over the fence behind him. He watched it go, threw up his hands, and took his humble pie with a thank you.
Naomi could almost smell the intimidation coming from the other attendees of the tennis clinic. After the workout of playing a spectacular point against her brother, Emily's muscles looked more defined, and she almost glowed with the sheen of sweat shining in the fluorescent light of the indoor courts. Naomi felt certain at that moment that if there has ever been a Greek goddess of tennis, she would have looked exactly like Emily.
It seemed as though Emily Fitch was not a force to be trifled with.
A/N: Yeah, so I named the cute little girl Lily. You know you loved that little detail if you caught it. ;)
