Ace of Hearts

Has tennis champion Laia Wilson ever had a bad day in her life? When the question is directed at the press, the answer is a simple no.

“She’s perfect!” A reporter might say.

The reporter could be anyone.

They might be a lady with crooked eyebrows, one who talks so fast that ten percent of her audience can’t understand her. Maybe a rapidly aging man who has trouble reading the telecaster, squinting his eyes because he’s one nervous laugh away from being fired.

Who the reporter is doesn’t matter. Why? Because every other reporter out there, surprisingly, thinks the same. The TV segments speak for themselves:

She rules the court with grace. Hardly even breaks a sweat.

Ms. Wilson is on a roll! Twenty trophies in a row is unthinkable…

Is there anything she can’t do!?

But don’t underestimate her influence; Laia Wilson’s excellence isn’t simple enough to be trapped behind a screen. With her smile, sweet laugh, and flawless curls broadcoasted across every big news channel, anyone watching would agree as well.

After all, Laia Wilson did the impossible, and that doesn’t happen every day.

By dethroning the previous state champion in a record breaking thirty seven minutes, she sent the tennis community into a state of chaos. The clip that captures the fist pumps she gave the crowd as they erupted into a standing ovation still flashes into living rooms across the globe. And who could ever forget her curtsy? It shaped her into the people’s princess.

She’s so cool! I wish I could play tennis like her.

Is she in a relationship? I hope not…

How does she do it all? I bet she’s never had a bad day in her life!

The only person to disagree with that statement?

The legend herself.

“Tell me you’re joking,” Laia pleaded. Pleaded, because she was on a high. She was winning. A lot. And this morning, she woke up to a beautiful array of orange, yellow, and pink painting the ceiling of her hotel room, the edges of a sunrise pushing through her curtains. She couldn’t stop the smile that grew on her face at the sight. Things were great! Her hotel was great, the people on her team were great, the food was great… And to top everything off, she was winning! A lot!

But to be competing for charity? This was bad.

This was the worst day of her life.

“Do I sound like I’m joking?” Coach Harper's gravelly voice filled the room and Laia groaned at the sound, turning away from her. “Calm down, Ms. Wilson. Like I said, it's too late for you to leave.”

Of course, the charity wasn’t the real problem. She loved kids! And she loved donating her money, too. She didn’t need all of it anyway, and she knew what it was like to struggle. That’s why she attended tons of charitable events in her free time, and that’s also why her coach didn’t understand the problem with this event.

Emma Hart was in attendance.

“I am calm. So calm!” Laia took a deep breath, mustering the courage to turn and face her coach again. “You know me! Don’t I look calm to you?”

Throwing out her best camera-ready smile, she flashed the older lady a double thumbs up, expecting a smile back. Maybe even a little cheer. Instead, she felt her eye twitch and her coach laughed at her.

“Quite. Although, I’m afraid your opinion on this game and the people playing it isn’t going to change things. The association has already decided you’ll be in the bracket, and it’s only natural with the attention you’ve been receiving. You should be grateful.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes at the lecture, choosing to stare at the row of lockers behind her coach’s head instead. As much as she wanted to, this wasn’t the time to throw a fit, not before the game. She was already here. 

Besides, Coach Harper was right: she needed to play. Serve for Smiles was an event she would never forgive herself for ditching.

Year after year, tennis players from around the world flew in to participate. Nationality, race, gender… things like that didn’t matter. What mattered was fame. If the player was bringing viewers to the table, they were bringing money to the table. However, that’s not the only reason the event became so well-known.

The pairings are random.

Competing in doubles, a player might compete with a stranger. They might play with a friend. Or, if they were really lucky, they would be on the same court as their worst enemy.

And in Laia’s case? There was the small possibility she would get stuck with the devil herself.

“Fine, I’ll be grateful, Coach,” she said. “Once you tell me who my partner is. You know, don’t you?”

This time, Coach Harper was the one to look away. She shuffled over to the end of the bench and cleared her throat with her back to Laia, mumbling something about a spot on the floor and how someone should clean it, oh, and she needed to re-wrap her racket’s grip, but would you look at the time the game is about to—

“Just tell me!” Laia exclaimed. Her coach sighed, because when she thought of the name of her student’s partner, she finally started to understand the reason for Laia's distress. Oh well, she thought. What could go wrong?

She turned back around to scan Laia up and down, scrutinizing everything about the girl. Her tennis uniform, her stance, her expression. With her eyes locked on her face, she mentally prepared herself for the reaction she would get upon revealing the name.

“Do you know her? She’s…”

Five doors down in a locker room much more cramped than Laia Wilson’s, another coach was suffering from the tantrum of her star student.

“Insane! She’s insane! You can’t expect me to play with her of all people!”

“Think of the kids, Ms. Hart—”

“Fuck the kids!” Emma half-screamed, half-groaned at the tiled ceiling, plopping down on the floor by her bag. “This is the worst possible thing that could happen.”

Her mind was racing, drawing up all the possibilities for how their encounter could go. Spitting? Punching? Crying? The headlines were making themselves in her head. And why wouldn’t they? The last time she and Laia faced off, the game nearly ended in a brawl.

She remembered her racket slamming into the ground. Scattered wood flying across the blue hard court. Curses sent across the net, then a certain finger. And what did Emma get from Laia in return for her outburst? A smile and a bow.

The thought of it made her sick.

She jumped up from her spot on the floor, snatching up her tennis bag and holding onto it tightly as she apologized to her coach.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’ll play.”

Emma’s mind had stopped racing, instead, it was locked on that moment. Laia’s flawless, nasty smile would be her new fuel. 

That game had been set, after set, after grueling set. Despite that, even when she was cramping, angry, and ready to pass out on the court, Laia kept her composure. It was unsettling. How had she done that? She wanted to be like that, too, but Laia always had to laugh, always had to smile, always had to look down on her every time she made a stupid play. It was annoying, and at the time, she thought her yells might break the perfect princess’ facade.

It didn’t. 

Laia won that game and then kept on winning, but Emma was more determined than ever now, and unaware that Laia shared the exact same thought she was forming.

If we win, I’m going to make sure it’s because of me.

…

“Love-all.” 

Emma yanked a ball from her skirt pocket, examining it as she stepped up to the serve line.

She glanced up at the announcer who had just spoken, then around the stadium at the crowd behind him. A hush had fallen the moment they announced the start of the game.

Her hands were sweating already. She ignored that fact and bounced the ball, once. Twice. A third time. Then, lining herself up, she outstretched her hand, glancing down the court to the spot she wanted to hit it. At least, that’s how her gaze started.

As she lined herself up, her eyes flicked momentarily to Laia’s. Why was she looking back at her instead of facing ahead? Whatever the reason, those big, sparkly brown eyes were locked on her, a playful challenge in their depths, accompanied by a mischievous smile.

That’s when the fun started.

Emma grinned back, and in a quick toss of the ball and an arch of her arm, her racket was slamming against her newfound weapon, sending it flying at Laia. The green circle of fuzz was nothing but a blur as it sailed through the air. 

The crowd gasped. Laia ducked. The ball slammed into the net. 

People around the stadium erupted into a mix of groans and surprised exclamations as Laia looked up from her crouch, eyes narrowing in amusement as she straightened up, her smile widening.

“Nice try,” she called out, her voice carrying over crowd. “Your target is a little higher, though!” She pointed at the girl across from her on the other side of the net before wrapping both hands around her racket, facing forward and getting into the correct position. 

So that’s the game she wants to play? Emma thought, chuckling in shock and shaking her head at herself as she retrieved another ball.

“Sorry!” she replied. “Just warming up!”

And warm up… she did not. As she tossed the ball up again, she swung with all her strength, determined to make a solid connection. But the ball descended and barely made a sound as it hit the court by her feet, bouncing weakly and then rolling away.

“Double fault. Love-fifteen.”

The groan that left Emma’s lips was drowned by the amused crowd. Cameras flashed. Banners waved. People cheered. None of that mattered to Emma though because Laia was walking up to her, hips swaying and curls bouncing as she raised an eyebrow.

“You’re supposed to hit the ball, Hart. Swatting at flies?”

“Don’t start.” Emma waved her off and rolled her eyes but Laia got up close and leaned forward, laughing in her face.

“Or maybe you need glasses… you should get that checked out!”

Every disciplinary talk Emma ever received from their association vanished from her head as she flipped Laia off, shoving her slightly to get to her own spot. 

Oh, I’ll show her! she thought, the talk from their coaches beforehand also vanishing from her mind. They had stood by their shared bench as the crowd cheered at their entrance, but Coach Harper had taken it upon herself to lecture both girls.

“You two are some of the best tennis players your generation has ever seen. You’re both here now, and on the same team, no less! I know neither of you are adjusted to being on the same side of the court, but imagine what you could do together.”

“A new record…” Laia started.

“Yes!” Coach Harper croaked.

“… for most broken rackets in a match?” she finished. Emma, who stood by her side—close enough to look civil but far enough so that she wouldn’t have to smell her scented sunscreen—snorted.

“Make that the most punches,” she said. Both coaches sighed in defeat.

“You’re thinking too small. How about—”

“Both of you stop!”

And with that, they were shoved toward the court… and their grave.

I don’t know what’s in the air folks, but today is just not Laia Wilson’s day!

“Move!” Laia yelled. Emma looked at her and stayed in place. Forced to chase the ball herself, Laia dashed across the court but stumbled over herself, missing the return. Emma laughed.

You sure are right about that one! And Emma Hart seems to be struggling just as much…

“Aim for the court, not the stands!” Laia groaned, after watching Emma serve the ball out of bounds.

Is there any way they’ll be able to win this?

“Mine!” The girls yelled at the same time, both running toward the center of the court. Instead of hitting the ball flying down the middle line, their rackets collided. The ball flew over their heads. Emma tripped, grabbed Laia. Then Laia was falling with her.

They crashed onto the court in a chaotic heap of limbs and rackets, the ball left to ricochet wildly behind them. 

Laia and Emma laid there for a moment, stunned and intertwined on the ground, with the crowd’s cheers turning into surprised murmurs. They stared at each other. 

Heaving for breath, sweaty, and ready to pummel the other person with their racket, the only thing both girls could manage to do is laugh. 

That day, the tennis community was thrown into chaos again. What flashes into living rooms now is the clip where Laia Wilson’s chuckles fill the air and Emma Hart embraces her, laughing uncontrollably into her shoulder as they lay on the ground. What follows are the highlights of the game where they go from rally to rally, switching sides seamlessly and following the other’s shouted commands until they’re winning point after point after point. 

And then, there’s everyone’s favorite shot. The rare sight of the two stars walking off the court together, smiling and laughing as they move their names up on the Serves for Smiles bracket.