The medicine ball

Tori

As the tournament progressed, Jade and I were on fire. Our chemistry on the doubles court was undeniable, and Jade's ankle was holding up surprisingly well. It seemed that the reduced running in doubles play was just what she needed, along with a talented partner. I was determined to shoulder most of the running so that she could focus on her game without the constant fear of re-injury.

With each match, Jade's confidence grew. She was no longer held back by the haunting fear of hurting herself again. The way she moved on the court, her swift volleys and her sharp serves left no doubt that we were a force to be reckoned with. We breezed through our opponents, winning match after match.

The path to the finals seemed almost too easy, but we weren't about to underestimate our opponents. We were well on our way to establishing ourselves as a formidable doubles team. And for Jade, this was more than just a rehab journey; it was a resurgence of her passion for the game. Our love and determination on and off the court were propelling us toward pro doubles.

The atmosphere in the doubles final was electric. The stands were packed with eager spectators, their cheers and applause creating a palpable buzz in the air. The opponents we faced had a reputation for being undefeated, which only added to the tension.

As the game unfolded, I noticed that Jade was doing more running than she had in previous matches. She was pushing herself to the limit, determined to give her best. However, as the intensity of the match increased, I could see uncertainty creeping into her movements. She became unsure on her feet, and it was clear that her ankle was beginning to protest the additional strain.

We found ourselves on match point, and the pressure was palpable. Jade saved the game with a remarkable display of determination, but in the process, she fell. I didn't let myself get distracted and put my energy into volleying an ace to win match point. "Jade, are you okay?" I shouted over my shoulder, and held my breath, as the croud hushed waiting for her to stand.

"I'm fine, Tori. Just a little stumble. We can do this." Jade said gritting her teeth She stood tentatively, and her face broke into a triumphant smile.

The crowd erupted in applause as the victory was sealed. I turned to Jade, saying. "You did it, Jade! You're amazing!"

The tension of the game melted away as I couldn't contain my excitement. I cheered, lifting Jade into my arms, and we spun around in a jubilant celebration of our hard-fought victory.

"We're unstoppable, Jade. You and me, together." I said.

I stood outside Jade's room, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. I had been looking forward to spending time with Jade, but as I knocked on the door, I sensed something different in her response.

"Hey, Jade," I began, my voice laced with hope. "I thought we could hang out in my room tonight. What do you say?"

Jade's reply was less forthcoming, and her voice carried a weariness that caught my attention.

"I appreciate the invitation, Tori, but I think I need some rest tonight. It's been a long day," she said.

I understood that Jade might not be in the mood, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was bothering her.

"Sure, Jade. Rest up. I'll be next door if you change your mind or want to talk about anything," I offered.

Jade managed a small smile, and I left her to rest, though I couldn't help but wonder what was on her mind. I hoped that, in time, Jade would feel comfortable opening up to me and sharing whatever was bothering her.

Jade

I closed the door behind Tori, a smile on my face even though I was hiding something. My foot, my ankle, was a mess, and I had been pushing it hard during our doubles match. It was throbbing with pain. I needed it to recover quickly for the upcoming singles tournament, where I was set to face off against Petra.

I limped from the door to the bathroom, filling the tub with ice-cold water. Gingerly, I lowered my aching foot into the bath, wincing as the cold bit into my skin. I knew this was necessary, and it would help with the inflammation.

After a few minutes, I dried my foot and hobbled over to the medicine cabinet. I grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen and took a couple of pills to help alleviate the pain.

As I lay in bed that night, anxiety gnawed at me. The singles final loomed on the horizon, and I couldn't afford to be anything less than my best, even with the pain. My mind raced, thoughts of Petra, the match, and the weight of expectations weighing on me.

I knew I had to be prepared, both mentally and physically, for the match against Petra. The night was long, filled with restlessness and worry, but I had to find the strength to face the challenges that lay ahead.

I closed my eyes and began my visualization exercises, a crucial part of my pre-match routine. I needed to get in the right headspace, to channel a win. In my mind's eye, I replayed every detail of the upcoming match against Petra.

I imagined the court, the bright sun overhead, and the cheers of the crowd. I saw Petra on the other side of the net, confident and determined. I visualized each point, each rally, and every shot. I could feel the vibrations of the racquet in my hand and the sting of the tennis ball against the strings.

I envisioned myself moving with agility, my foot pain forgotten, as I chased down every shot. I pictured the moments when I'd outwit Petra with clever serves and shots, the crowd erupting in cheers.

I focused on my breathing, controlling my nerves, and staying calm under pressure. With each mental repetition, my confidence grew. I knew I could beat Petra; I could win this match.

As I completed my visualization exercises, I opened my eyes, feeling a renewed sense of determination. I was ready to step onto the court and give it my all, no matter what the odds.

Walking to the courts in the morning, I repeated my mantra to myself, like a silent chant. "I've won the rematch, Petra can't beat me. I am ranked first right now, there's no one better than me." I said it over and over, allowing the words to wash over me, reinforcing my confidence.

Arriving at the court, I felt the nerves and excitement building within me. To keep my focus and determination intact, I decided to warm up with some drills. Tori joined me, and together, we worked through medicine ball exercises, our bodies and minds getting in sync for the challenge ahead.

Tori asked me if I was ready, her voice filled with support. I didn't need to respond with words; instead, I continued my mantra in my head, using it to stay in my perfect headspace, unshaken and ready to take on Petra.

out of the blue, my dad appeared while I was in the middle of my warm-up drills with Tori. He had a worried look in his eyes, watching me power through the pain. Concern etched across his face, he spoke up.

"Dad," I said, a mix of surprise and curiosity in my voice.

He took a deep breath and said, "Jade, I've been thinking. I see you're in pain, and I can't bear to watch you suffer like this. I'm sorry for the way I reacted before. You don't have to play if it means hurting yourself."

His words hit me like a curveball. I wasn't used to this side of my dad, the one who cared more about my well-being than my performance on the court. It was a lot to take in.

I nodded and replied, "Thanks, Dad, but I need to finish this match. It's important to me."

My father's expression softened, and he sighed. "I just want you to be happy, Jade. If tennis is causing you more pain than joy, maybe it's time to reconsider your priorities."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. His support and concern meant a lot, but it also left me feeling conflicted about the path I had chosen.

"What are you thinking?" Tori asked after he was gone.

I frowned. I just didn't know. I could use the rest, but… I started to see the stands fill up. "I think…" I said to her. "I'm gonna kick Petra's ass."