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callyourose · 9 days

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match point, chapter four.

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— In which Art and Patrick find themselves intertwined with the relationship of tennis superstar Tashi Duncan and her best friend, Lennon Caddel.

TASHI DUNCAN WASN'T CONTROLLING LENNON CADDEL. She knew that Lennon was an adult, she was fully capable of making her own decisions. It wasn't like she was holding her at gunpoint. She could do what she wanted. Tashi truly did just want what was best for her. Lennon was incredible at tennis. Like, really, really fucking good. Tashi would never admit it, but she knew Lennon was better than her. She knew that she had never lost to her because Lennon had let her win. And she knew, deep, deep down, that Lennon didn't want to go pro. She was fucking miserable. She hated playing tennis. Sometimes, in the dark of her bedroom late at night or early in the morning, Lennon would contemplate declining her scholarship off and dropping out of school completely. She would stare at the screen of her computer, Stanford's student portal staring back at her. But tennis was the only thing that Tashi and Lennon knew. It was the basis of which their friendship was built on. If they were hanging out and didn't know what to do? They'd go out to Lennon's backyard and play a match. They wanted to watch a movie but couldn't decide on which one? They'd turn on Serena Williams or Lindsay Davenport's most recent match. Lennon hated playing tennis, but she knew that they needed it. Who would she be if she wasn't playing? What would her and Tashi even talk about? Would Tashi even like her if she wasn't winning? She didn't know. But she didn't want to find out.

Art and Patrick were fighting for their lives on the tennis court. With Lennon and Tashi in the stands, it made the stakes that much higher. As the girls were leaving last night, the duo once again begging for their numbers, Tashi told them that whoever won their match could have Lennon's. Whoever lost could have hers. Both boys were ok with winning or losing. It was a win either way. Regardless, neither of them wanted to lose in front of the two greatest women in junior tennis.

When Tashi had said that whoever lost the match could have her number, Lennon looked at her wide-eyed. She almost thought she was punishing her. In some weird, twisted way. Because why would Tashi Duncan want to be pursued by a loser? It was something that haunted Lennon all night long, the leftover fear of being a disappointment and the confusion of Tashi's promise to the boys making it impossible for her to sleep peacefully.

The sun was beating down on all of them. Lennon's hair was pulled into a ponytail and tucked into a Stanford baseball cap, at the recommendation of Tashi. "I don't want you to get a sunburn," she had said, "Plus, hats are super cute on you."

The stakes were high and the match was almost over. And Art was losing. Lennon didn't know if she was rooting for anyone specifically, she was really just enjoying the game. If there's anything Tashi and Lennon can agree on, it's good tennis.

As soon as it had started, their final match was over. Patrick had won. Lennon and Tashi were on their feet, cheering, and he was bowing in their direction. Across the net, Art's hands were on his hips, feigning disappointment. But that didn't stop him from flashing an award winning smile when he caught Tashi's eye. She rolled her eyes, unable to stop the small grin that was blossoming on her face.

Later that night, there was a knock at Lennon and Tashi's hotel room door. The girls were busy packing, their move-in date at Stanford was two days from then. They were going home for the next full day before packing up again and heading off to school. Their parents had been packing their bedrooms at home for them during their time at the US Open, so all that was left to do was to get home and then immediately leave.

Tashi told Lennon to get the door and so she did. Patrick Zweig was standing in the hallway. He was fiddling with a pack of cigarettes, with a singular flower in his back pocket.

"Hi, Patrick," she smiled, leaning against the door frame. She was in her pajamas, clad in a pair of black shorts (Tashi's) and her own oversized hoodie. She was toeing at the ground, her sock covered feet doing the work of distracting her. Tashi, although out of view, was peaking around the wall. She would tell you she wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but she was.

"Hey," he replied as he eyed her up and down. As if just remembering it was there, he tucked the cigarette package into his front shirt pocket before reaching around and grabbing the flower out of his back one. "This is for you."

It was a rose. It looked like it had just been ripped off the bush. He had definitely stolen it from someone's garden. Still, the gesture was enough to have Lennon blushing and stumbling over her words.

"Oh! Uh.. thank you, that's so sweet," She was trying so hard to suppress the blush and smile that were trying to take over her face.

"Do you want to come somewhere with me?" He was grinning. He had reached into his front pocket and brought a cigarette to his lips.

"You can't smoke in here," She raised her eyebrow and 'tsked', feigning mock disapproval. She was trying so hard to fight the urge to turn around to make sure Tashi wasn't watching. Not that she would've been mad at her for talking to Patrick, Lennon just wanted this all to herself for a minute.

Patrick smiled, his lips curling around the unlit cigarette. "I wasn't gonna light it, silly," He rolls his eyes, mocking. "Do you wanna come with me or not?"

Finally, Lennon looked back. Tashi was nowhere in sight. She looked down at her outfit and then back at Patrick and then back into her room. "Sure. But let me change."

"Where the hell are you taking me?!" Lennon giggled and she watched Patrick hop a wooden fence. After re-entering the room and convincing Tashi that she would be perfectly safe, she had left with the brunette boy and was letting him guide her. She was wearing the same shorts as before, but her previously socked feet were now covered by her beat up converse and she had forgone her hoodie in favor of a cropped t-shirt.

Patrick was stood on the other side of the fence and was smiling wide as he offered her his hands, helping her vault over it. "Just come on."

They walked side by side a little further, Patrick occasionally bumping his hip with Lennon's, causing her to giggle. She knew deep down that he was taking her somewhere that she wasn't supposed to be. After they had hopped the fence, the grass beneath them almost instantly became softer and well taken care off, almost as if they had stepped onto turf. The trees that had surrounded them for the first 5 minutes of their walk were nonexistent. By the time Patrick had lead them to where he wanted to be, plopping down on the grass and patting the space beside him, she had figured out where they were.

"Patrick..." She began, hands on her hips as she stood above him, "Is this a golf course?"

He leaned his head back, flashing her the same award winning smile that Art had used earlier. "There's no trees over here, okay? And you seem like the type of girl who likes to stargaze."

He was right. She did like to stargaze.

Hesitantly, she sat down on the grass beside him and brought her knees up to her chest. She was resting her head on her knee as she turned to look at him. He was already looking at her.

"Do you like it?"

Lennon turned to look up at the sky, eyeing the stars Patrick was so desperate she see, and then back at him. "I do. As long as we don't get arrested for trespassing."

He chuckled at her, looking away. She rested her head on knee before turning to look at him again. "I wouldn't let that happen. I don't think Stanford accepts fugitives."

At the mention of Stanford, and by association her tennis scholarship, she stiffens and her smile falters. She was tired of talking about it. For an hour, or however long her and Patrick would be out here, she didn't want to think about tennis. But she had met him at a tennis tournament. Obviously they were going to talk about tennis.

Just as she was about to fake a smile and reply to his joke, he knocks her leg with his. She lifts her head and turns to look at him fully, and he's looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Why don't you want to go pro?"

She was taken aback. She thought that the answer she had given last night was enough. Lennon was tired of discussing the thought of her playing professionally and why she wanted, or didn't want, to. So she said, "I do."

Patrick smiles softly and shakes his head. "No you don't."

"Yes I do. I told you last night that I did."

Patrick, who was leaning on his hands, sits up fully to turn his whole body to face her. "No, you didn't," He cocks his head at her, gauging her reaction before continuing. "You said that you didn't think that you were good enough to go pro and that you wouldn't be happy. And then Tashi got mad at you and you backtracked. Why?"

Lennon just stared at him. This was the first time in so long that anyone had asked her what she wanted. What she was thinking and what she wanted to do with her life without Tashi nearby to sway her answer. She honestly didn't know what to say. Part of her wanted to get angry with him. Why would he bring her here, alone, under the impression that he was here to get to know her, and then try to turn her against her best, and only friend? The other part of her, the part she didn't listen to very often, was almost relieved. Finally, for the first time in so long, she could just be Lennon. She didn't have to be Tashi Duncan's best friend or Steven Caddel's daughter or a Stanford scholarship recipient. She could just be her. Without the threat of Tashi's wrath or disappointed face. But still she looked over her shoulder, making sure they were alone.

"I don't..." Lennon sighed, turning away from him. "I don't know." She was suddenly teary, as if the weight of the life she's built for herself has finally settled. She's set up to have the perfect career. She was born into the perfect family, she's going to the perfect school, her game is perfect. She could be known as one of the greats. Serena Williams, Novak Djokovic, Roger Federer. And Lennon.

She sniffles, which Patrick hears, and he's immediately apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, Lennon," He's trying not to stumble over his words. He's got one of the most perfect people in the world next to him, and he made her cry. "Genuinely, I didn't mean to upset you."

She shakes her head and blinks away her tears before turning back to him and smiling warmly. "It's fine, Patrick. Really."

He doesn't believe her. But he moves on anyway.

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