CHAPTER FOURTEEN. THE FINALS
The next day dawned rainy. With two
days to train before the finals, Megan and Sebastien couldn't help
panicking for a little while.
"How are we
supposed to train?" cried Megan hysterically.
"The
indoor courts will be full! Why did we sleep in? WHY?" yelled
Sebastien.
"Maybe…" Megan's eyes flew around
the room. "We can practise inside!" She took a wild swing with
her racket and almost knocked a hole in the TV. "Never mind
then…"
"Wait- there are only four people in the
finals, right?" asked Sebastien.
"There are still
four finalists from the junior tournament- good thing we're just
old enough to make it to the adult level!" said Megan, more
calmly.
"So…except for the other participants who
are practising, there should really be only a few people out there.
We can always ask for somewhere- we ARE in the finals, after all,"
said Sebastien rationally.
"That's true…"
Megan lowered her racket. "We MUST PRACTISE!" With that, it
shot back in the air, almost whacking Sebastien in the back of the
head. "Oh…sorry!"
"It's ohkay…you JUST
missed it." He clutched the back of the head and pushed Megan's
racket closer to the ground. "Be careful with that around my head,
k?" He started laughing as a sheepish look crossed her face.
"Yea yea…let's just find a court!" They raced each
other to the elevator and stayed at the tennis club the whole day,
alternating between going on runs, working out at the gym, and
catching some court time. They repeated this regiment of training
the next day, taking care not to work themselves too hard lest they
be tired out for injured for the finals.
Thankfully, the weather was perfect for the finals. Sebastien
tentatively peeked through the curtains, afraid the skies would be
dull and grey for the third day in a row. When he caught a glimpse
of the sun's reflection on the water below their hotel, he tore
open the window and yelled Megan's name.
"It's
sunny!" She raced to his side and gaped at the beautiful view.
"This is too good to be true…" She leaned against
him. "Perfect weather for a match!"
He let her
words fade away as they basked in each other's presence. Sebastien
kissed the top of her head and she turned to fit inside him-
perfectly matched against his body. His hands slid down to the small
of her back, supporting her as she leaned into him.
Megan couldn't believe how well things had gone since Coach
Gunnerson left. Truthfully, the shadow of the tournament still lay
over both of them. They were comforted slightly by the fact that
second place still held a relatively generous prize for both of them.
The Hamstead tournament had even reformed its prize winnings so the
women's purse was just as full as the men's. She felt so relaxed
with Sebastien, they knew each other so well. They didn't feel the
need to fill any silences, but just to let it settle over them and
enjoy the moment.
"Megan?" started Sebastien.
"Mmm?"
"We should really get
ready." He pulled back and lovingly gazed into her eyes, the way
she'd never thought possible.
"Ahh…yea." She
seemed dazed, as if she'd just woken up from a dream.
"Breakfast?"
"Yup. I made pancakes…with
fruit of course. And…bean sprouts." He wrinkles his nose and
pointed them out on the counter to the kitchen.
"Thanks Seb!" She reached up and kissed him on the cheek before
grabbing some pancakes and bean sprouts.
"That is
the nastiest combination I've ever seen!" he exclaimed. "Fruit
and pancakes is okay, but bean sprouts?"
"Don't
knock it till you try it!" she cried.
He gingerly
took a pancake- without syrup- and popped it into his mouth with a
few bean sprouts. "Consider it knocked."
"Knocked?" asked Megan.
"Isn't that what you
said?"
"Uhh…right. Just eat your sprouts!"
she waved them eagerly in front of his face.
"Ughhh…"
he shivered. Nonetheless, he grabbed a handful of the beans and
started arranging them on his plate. He took a sip of his orange
juice and placed it carefully on the table. Then he picked up his
knife and fork, daintily cut up his pancakes, and proceeded to lay
them out on his plate.
"Whatever floats your
boat!"
"What boat?"
"You are
so lost, Sebastien." She got up to start getting ready for the
tournament, knocking him in the head.
"What was
that for?" he said indignantly.
"Nothing,
nothing…" she said and disappeared into their bedroom. Sebastien
shrugged and returned to his carefully positioned plate.
Soon enough they were flagging down a taxi to get them to the
tournament. Megan was poking through his bag, searching for her hair
ties.
"Why would I have your hair elastics? I
don't have any hair to tie!" said Sebastien.
"I
don't know…it might have gotten tossed in here while we were
packing," huffed Megan.
"Look Megan! You don't
need any more hair ties. You already have five on your wrist, just
in case, remember?" She stopped searching his bag. "See, you
don't need to look in there!" Megan was still staring into his
bag. "What? What's wrong?"
"Is this…?"
She was slowly pulling something out. "Francois Cochet?" She
started to laugh.
He grabbed the picture and turned
it around so she could see it. "No… it's my new tennis idol."
It was a picture of Megan. "And you'll be my special lucky
charm even if you stop playing tennis." He kissed her softly.
Her eyes slowly reopened, before pulling a thick piece of
paper out of her back pocket and flicking it before Sebastien's
eyes. "My lucky charm."
He started to laugh,
seeing his own face on the page. "I thought you weren't
superstitious?"
"Whatever Sebastien! I'll take
whatever luck I can get for this final!" she scoffed.
"Well then I won't take this away from you." He tucked it
gently into her palm, and caressed her fingers before safely placing
it in his bag. "Even though you don't need any luck."
The taxi stopped in front of the now familiar tennis complex.
Their names were plastered everywhere- Megan O'Connor vs. Michelle
Lewiston. Sebastien Dubé vs. Alexander Bell.
"Whoa…" breathed Megan as they stepped out of the cab. "I
can see your name everywhere!"
Sebastien's eyes
were wide open; taking in the moment he'd been waiting for since
the first time he picked up a racket. "And yours…this is a dream
come true."
She turned away from the flashing
lights and gigantic banners. "Sebastien…" She grasped his hand
and they both walked bravely into the player's area, oblivious to
the media trucks parked around the stadium.
They
dropped their bags and Sebastien started warming up- his game was
first. Megan helped him calm down, subconsciously smoothing her own
frazzled nerves. They went over his game, and when his name was
called to the court, he was ready. He clung onto Megan and she held
him tight, knowing how much was resting on this one match. Finally
he let go and gently kissed her. Feeling like a solider going into
battle, a just a little melodramatic, he marched onto the court.
Megan scurried up into the crowd, hoping there was an
empty seat next to Sebastien. She found that the Hamstead Tournament
Committee saved two seats for each player's close friends or
family. She took one of those seats, and a little sadly, removed the
reserved sign from the one beside her. No one else close would be
coming to see the match.
Sebastien was an amazingly
strong player. He'd always crushed his opponent's with such
finality that Alexander Bell's skills were slightly surprising. He
led the game, making good use of his much-improved serve, and
claiming a few aces. However, when Alexander's turn came up to
serve, he fell back. Megan sat on the edge of her chair, watching
the ball with deep concentration. Finally, Sebastien came back up to
the lead. At the final match, he was still leading. He had an
advantage against Bell, and Bell was serving. The crowd
instinctively leaned in for Sebastien's Championship Match Point.
Bell bounced the ball- one, two- and lobbed it in the air. His
racket came up to meet it with such forced that the crowd gasped as a
single entity. Sebastien shot from his spot and returned the ball
with his powerful ground stroke, sending it flying over the net and
bouncing a few inches from the line, too quickly for Bell to even
move. A tense hush fell over the crowd, waiting to hear whether the
shot was in.
"Championship point for Mr. Dubé."
"AHHHHHHHHHH!" Sebastien dropped his racket
and jumped into the air, pumping his fist in the air. Megan was
screaming on the sidelines, the crowd was cheering, everyone was on
their feet. Suddenly Sebastien ran over to Megan and swung her over
onto the court. She was laughing and crying all at once, clinging
onto his neck and crying into his shoulder. Sebastien turned and
yelled into the crowd, "This is for you, mom!" Silent tears fell
from his eyes, but this time they were tears of joy. Megan smiled at
him softly and let go, waving to the crowd with her arm wrapped
around his waist. Camera's flashed as Sebastien looked into her
eyes and they kissed, clinging to each other once again in the heat
of the moment. With a final roar, Sebastien swept her up in his arms
and carried her off the court like a new husband walking his wife
across the threshold of their new life.
"Sebastien,
you were awesome!" Megan cried, kissing him all over again.
"I can't believe this! I can't believe I won!"
He spun around, both of them wildly ecstatic with his win. The
reporter's started to pour in, yelling out questions and flashing
light bulbs. They quieted down when the official network for the
Hamstead Tournament got to the front of the crowd.
A
reporter took her place next to Sebastien, readying for the shot.
"I'm here with Sebastien Dubé, who has just won the
Championship Match for the men's tournament at the Hamstead. What
do you have to say, Mr. Dubé?"
"I'm not
quite sure! I just know, I couldn't have gotten here without Coach
Gunnerson back at Cascadia, and all of Top Gun back there. And I
definitely couldn't have gotten here without Megan." She
blushed, still cradled in his arms.
"Anything to
say to the family back home?"
"Just-" he paused
and asked the reporter a question. "Can I say this in French? My
father would understand it better." She nodded and he continued.
" Papa, vous avez été là pour moi même
lorsque nos rêves ont semblé jusqu'ici au loin. Vous
avez fait ainsi beaucoup de sacrifices pour ceci, et je suis si fier
d'avoir réussi pour vous et la maman. Je t'aime !"
"Would you mind translating that for our English
audiences?"
"Not at all! Papa, you've been
there for me even when our dreams seemed so far off. You've made so
many sacrifices for this, and I'm so proud to have succeded for you
and mama. I love you!" He blushed, never having been so open
before, especially in front of all these cameras.
The
reporter smiled, knowing how important this was to such a young
competitor. "The award ceremony for Mr. Dubé will be held
tonight, following the women's match. I'm sure he will be there
to support Ms. O'Connor!"
The camera clicked
off, and the reporters continued their questions. After a few
minutes, Sebastien told them he needed to go and he and Megan left
the crowd behind.
"That was so sweet, Seb!" she
cooed.
"I had to say something!" he said,
covering up for his soft moment.
"It was definitely
the right something then!" He put her on the ground and caught a
glimpse of his watch, doubling back to check the time.
"Megan! There's only half an hour until your match!" She
gasped and they ran, hand in hand to a warm-up spot near her court.
Megan was beginning to panic, and her muscles
started tensing up. Sebastien spoke calmly- even though he was
barely able to contain his excitement. Every time he felt her
muscles tighten, he drew his hand across it, helping Megan become
more aware of her body. Her heart slowed, and her head cleared.
Megan visualized her strokes and jogged on the spot, and finally her
body was ready for the match. Sebastien drew her into his arms and
was ready to release her when she was called to the court. Megan
started to walk out, but she ran back and kissed his soft lips,
gathering courage to take on this Michelle Lewiston and whatever she
could dish out.
Sebastien ran up, grabbing the
reserved seat and also sadly removing the reserved sign from the one
beside it. Megan served the ball, foot-faulting it. She breathed,
looked to him for a little confidence, and slammed the ball down
within the service box. Lewiston didn't even blink before it was
past her. Megan bit her lip and served again, winning the point with
a short rally. The game progressed in the same way, both player's
giving their best, occasionally making errors but playing their
hearts out. Michelle Lewiston dove for the ball, sweat dripping down
her back, and served the ball with an extreme load of force. Megan
roared whenever she attacked the ball, surprising everyone with her
strength and control. Just like Sebastien, she had an advantage over
Michelle by the end of the match. This time- Megan was serving. She
bounced the ball, Lewiston watching like a hawk, bouncing on her
toes. Megan tossed the ball- but let it drop. She glanced towards
Sebastien, and he gave her a tight smile- he could almost feel the
nerves radiating from her. Megan's focus returned to the game, the
crowd deathly silent. Her hand shot up, then her racket meeting the
ball and slamming it deep into the service box. Michelle Lewiston
dove but the ball bounced up over her head and landed somewhere in
the crowd.
Sebastien was the first one up, vaulting
into the court and joining Megan as she fell to her knees; in utter
disbelief that they'd BOTH won the finals. The crowd got to their
feet, realizing that the tennis star couple had taken the Tournament,
both scooping up the most prestigious prizes in the Hamstead. They
roared, with a standing ovation for Megan O'Connor, who had to
battle for every point and had, more than anyone else, earned the
title of Hamstead Women's Champion. Megan's tears were soaking
the ground, she pounded the hard clay with fists of glory, and
finally, as Sebastien came to her side, she rose to accept the people
who were chanting her name. Seb wiped away her tears, grinning from
ear to ear and he took her by the waist. Lion King style, he lifted
her up and she waved to the crowd, revolving slowly as they cheered
her on. As Seb lowered her to the ground, she looked him in the eye
and said, "I have my family back…" and they cried together.
"Home…we're going home," he whispered in her ear.
They both walked off the court, to get ready for the award ceremony.
