Daeva: Black Diamond Chrysalis - Danielle Bolger (essential reading txt) 📗

performance. I knew the ball was going to arc the way it did, I knew it from all the previous games I had played with Kieran. That was his serve, that was what made him tough to return against, but it was consistent and as long as the wind was taken into account, it was readable. The fact that I missed this shot did not make sense.

Then, turning downward, I narrowed my eyes at the top end of the court. There I saw the multiple faint coloured glows of high intensity circular hits to the synthetic floor, but one stood out greatest of all, a bright violet that was swiftly fading to blue bestowed its beauty just outside the server's box.

I smirked.

"Advantage server!" the fifteen year old umpire called out.

"I contest!" I declared confidently.

This received laughter and sniggers.

"Huh?" I exclaimed, baffled as I pointed to the bluing circle. "But that was so clearly out! You can see! It never clipped the line!"

"Bethanie..." my PE teacher raised her head from a bunch of papers she was grading, the senior's test papers I had surmised since their finals were just coming underway. "There's no bird's eye view in school tennis, alright? I put Jessica in charge of umpiring the match. Whatever she says, goes."

"But, Miss Montgomery, it was obviously out! C'mon, Jessica, use your eyes!"

"Um..." Jessica murmured timidly. "It looked in... I think?"

My teacher grunted manishly. "I don't care what you think you saw, Bethanie, but in the non-elite level, you take what the umpire calls or you're disqualified!"

I turned away from her sullenly and as I readied my racquet I muttered under my breath, "The injustice of school sport..."

But apparently Miss Montgomery heard something for she called out, "Bethanie, no pouting or I promise I will disqualify you!"

"Miss, I'm trying to get ready for Kieran's next serve, please don't distract me!"

I heard my teacher groan but said nothing more.

Then once Kieran had gained control of his silenced laughter he made his serve.

The ball hit the tape of the net, looked like it was almost about to snake over, but then fell dismally to the ground.

"Fault!" Jessica called.

Kieran threw another ball back into the air again, raised his racquet, then stopped and instead caught the ball.

"There's a lot of pressure with this next serve." A commentator from the sidelines informed our peers. "If Kieran gets this shot that will put the set to seven-five, that will mean he will win the set. But if he loses the game it will be six all and a tie-breaker will take place. They have both fought very hard and now pressure and fatigue will start taking their toll. This is when mistakes happen, when minds crumble. This is the hardest part of the match."

I did a brief glance across and noticed it was Matthew who was giving the diction, of course, I should not have been surprised really. He was not much of a sportsman himself, just loved to watch and be in the action of it all. It was obvious what his ideal career choice was.

Then the ball soared through the air again and I had to quickly turn my attention away from the commentator and back towards where the action was taking place. The ball fell down into the server's box, almost in the centre of it and much slower than the first hit. Despite my distraction the weak second serve was a delivery akin to child's play and I smashed it back with dazzling velocity. Kieran skirted across and swung but it was no match for the violent attack I had given him, that shot had defeated him.

"Deuce, sudden death!" Jessica called out after the ball bounced in the court, missed Kieran's return and then bounced out.

"This is it, set point." Matthew pointed out from the side.

Kieran threw the ball up and just at the peak of its height fell his racquet down upon it.

The ball hit just on the inside of the vertical server line. I dashed left, lowered my racquet and backhanded the ball into the centre of his court. He moved across and forehanded back towards me to the right. I received it easily, connected and curled over the top of the ball. It lifted high before landing short in his court. He saw this of course, so he anticipated the top-spin and sliced with his backhand into the middle of my court but far to the left.

I raced quickly, calling on all of my speed to reach the designated place and arrived there so swiftly that I barely had time to raise my racquet. But I did somehow, and I did brilliantly, for the ball that was shot off fired straight down the line so quickly that it took many seconds for the verdict to be announced.

"G... Game!" Jessica cried loudly but as if she was a little confused. "Bethanie... wins!"

"Whoa!" I heard from staggered voices on the sidelines.

"Did you see how fast she moved?"

"How did she do that? She became a bona-fied blur!"

"Shit, dude!"

"And Bethanie speeds across the court so quickly one would think she was supernatural right before slamming a powerful racquet and torpedoing the ball cruelly into her opponent's court!" Matthew cried excitedly. "Most of the onlookers do not doubt that this girl is superhuman with the unnatural and amazing display that she just gave and I don't doubt that her adversary, Kieran, is feeling that he has been cheated by the devil himself! Or in this case - herself!"

My whole body was so stiff that I couldn't understand how my tennis racquet fell to the ground.

"Oh... hum?" Miss Montgomery murmured as she pulled her eyes away from the papers she was grading. "The match is over, great! Um..." She furtively turned to her watch her students with unease but upon discerning the time she calmed. "Excellent, well you can all go to lunch now!"

"Yay!" was the common response however one student decided not to be so cool.

"But, miss!" Matthew almost screamed with his alarm. "The school bell hasn't rung yet! We want to see more of these two play and of Bethanie's supernatural speed!"

Then the school bell rung.

Our teacher cocked an annoyed eyebrow at the boy. "I can see you now, Matthew, as one of those males that do nothing but watch sport." She tsked. "Go have lunch, the lot of you, I'm done baby-sitting here!"

Though Matthew protested, the rest of her students were only too eager to comply with her directive, though as they left I did not miss the continued whispers at my blurred movement.

I jostled myself across the court to where I had laid my school bag but before I could sling it to my shoulders a boy grasped my arm.

"How did you do that back there?" Kieran asked wide eyed. "Don't get me wrong, it was epically cool, but damn, that was fast!"

I shrugged my arm free. "Don't, just please don't Kieran. I have enough B.S. going on in my head."

I placed the backpack on my shoulders and turned to leave but again Kieran grasped my wrist.

"Don't!" he called. "Don't go just yet!"

With an exhale I turned. "And why should I stay?"

"Because..." he murmured shyly. "I want to talk to you. Not about that stunt, but, about other things..."

I raised my eyebrows. "Talk? And why would that be? You hate me."

Kieran gaped before hurriedly divulging. "No. I don't!"

"Then why?" I asked with a frown fixed to my face. "Why do you always tease, belittle, antagonise or try to destroy me any way you can when you see me?"

Kieran grunted, turning his head with frustration but not did not relinquish his hold of my hand. "Because... I don't know. Maybe I'm angry but... I mean you just... still..."

"What?" I asked sardonically. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Damn it, Beth, you're such a cow!" He yelled. "But still..." He added with a quieter voice turned aside to the now empty tennis court. Then he gave a short laugh. "Despite that, I still think you get me better than anyone else. I can tell other people, but they just don't know what it's like, to feel alone. To feel unloved."

I almost made to leave but the baring of his soul halted me.

Kieran continued after a twitching pause. "It's getting really hard, you know, with my mum. And I kinda miss those times we wagged school together. It was good to get away from it all, pretend that nothing else mattered but the sport we played together."

"I know..." I responded quietly to Kieran. "But I promised too many people that I would try, you know, to make something of myself. To go to class, get good grades and all that stuff." I smirked weakly but inwardly wincing at the cruel effect I knew I was about to make. "That's why we can't hang out anymore. We're both on that self-destructive road and put together we only accelerate down that faster. I am sorry, Kieran, I thought you hated me before but no doubt this will make that a reality. Still, I like you." I laughed dryly here. "Even if you piss me off to tears sometimes. But, like I told you six months ago, I can't be your friend anymore."

I still felt his hand grasping mine as I said it and the warmth seemed to burn, then tremble.

"Damn it, Bethanie." His low voice quivered to a similar pattern to his hand. "Can't you see me reaching out here? I can't deal with this alone anymore. My mother, she's just... she's too much for me to deal with alone anymore. I swear, it's driving me insane."

Kieran paused, panting hurriedly as if he was still in that tennis match with me. "I know you said you wanted your distance, so you could try a go at a real life again, but Beth, I can't do this anymore, I can't act like it doesn't affect me if I have no one to fake it with." He winced. "C'mon, Beth, we've been through the same. Please, just don't pretend that we don't have a connection!"

Finally I tore my hand from his ruthlessly. "You're either a jerk, or a bitch. But I'll repeat myself from six months ago since you're obviously stupid all the time: I-don't-want-anything-to-do-with-you-anymore. I have too much of my own crap to deal with and handling yours, Kieran, only pulls me deeper."

I turned away and started walking but halted as the boy made another desperate cry.

"But what about us? We were good, weren't we? Sure we were delinquents skipping school, doing graffiti, but we connected, right?"

I didn't turn as I responded. "Sure, I got you, but you never got me. You have a mum, who, despite what she does, loves you. Me, I have a brother that gave up on his dream because of me. A younger one that's already forgotten his mother and through his arsehole father is about to be adopted by a floozy stranger. And then, to put the icing on the cake, I have no mother of my own! So, no, I do not have compassion for you because you don't know real hardship. I understand you, but you have no concept of what I am growing through because you have not felt that level of pain. So, I'm not going to apologise in saying that I don't want you in my life anymore. You're either nasty or depressing and I... am walking away from all that."

As I recommenced my steps it was to silence behind and when I closed the tennis court gate I caught a quick glimpse of the boy. There he remained still in just the same place, with his hand outstretched as if grabbing something still, but with head downturned and mute.

With a final squeak the gate closed shut. I then fastened the latch to keep the breeze from flying it open, then turned and left the boy alone to his melancholy.