Chapter 2 James

James was still reeling from the email he'd received this morning, the email announcing, "New registration for the Pine Heights Charity Pickleball Tournament!" The subject line's exclamation point seemed to taunt him with its false cheeriness, belying the message it contained.

The email proclaimed that person he wanted to see least in this world would be playing in his tournament: the one he'd designed, advertised, and planned down to every fucking detail to make sure it was perfect. The one he had planned on entering with Mary Grace as his partner — but now, here she was, signed up to play with an unknown someone who was not James.

There was no reason for Mary Grace to play in the tournament, much less for her to sign up with a doubles partner "to be named." As far as James knew, Mary Grace had never picked up a pickleball paddle. No, Mary Grace had signed up just to taunt James, to make sure that she was still at the forefront of James' mind even months after their breakup. She was doing this as a big "fuck you," to show James that she was doing just fine without him — better, even.

James knew Mary Grace was being petty. He shouldn't let her antics get to him. Wasn't this kind of mean-girl attitude why he'd broken off things with her?

Still, it smarted.

And now, the universe had to be taunting him even more. That was the only explanation for the woman standing in front of him on this tennis court, those blue eyes seeming to stare straight into his soul, just as they had done that day in high school.

The woman he'd thought about for the past eight years. The woman who happened to be best friends with Mary Grace's twin sister, Victoria.

James had a vague idea about the last eight years of Liana's life since he'd last seen her. Not that he'd stalked her, but it was impossible not to see the occasional post on Instagram or TikTok. She'd moved to New England for college, and then to Los Angeles after graduation, and as far as he knew, she still lived there, though he couldn't recall seeing anything from her on social media for the last few months.

She was just as beautiful as she'd been in high school, with her thick brown wavy hair falling to her waist and her light pink tennis dress highlighting her light skin, a shade lighter than the fake tans common to Miami. Somehow, it increased James' respect for her that she didn't try to make her skin a color it wasn't.

But James didn't miss the slight slump of Liana's shoulders, the clear outline of her ribs showing in the cut-out back of her dress, the way her stomach seemed to cave in on itself. He had a sudden urge to cook for her, to feed her. Why wasn't she taking care of herself? Did someone tell her she looked prettier as a size zero? James knew some people made subtle digs about women's weight, and if someone had made Liana question how much she should be eating, he had a sudden urge to bash that person's face in.

Not that he was prone to violence. He was a pacifist, even. But he could tell Liana's health was not entirely all right, and he wanted to do something to fix it.

"Hey, James," said Liana softly. "It's good to see you."

James blinked and tried to clear his thoughts. "It's good to see you, too. How have you been?"

"Good. You?"

"Good." It felt as hollow coming out of his mouth as it had seemed coming out of hers. James knew when someone was faking, and Liana was faking.

"What are you doing here?" James asked, and then immediately cringed. "Sorry. You look like you're here for a pickleball lesson. You're certainly welcome."

A faint smile kicked at one corner of her lips. "Well, now that I have your approval to attend the class I signed up for, I suppose I'll stay."

"Shit, I didn't mean it like that. I'm glad to see you. I'm the teacher… erm, the coach here."

"Cool." She shifted from foot to foot, looking as if she wanted to say more but wasn't sure how to begin. James didn't push, letting the silence expand for a moment and giving her the choice of whether to speak.

She looked down at her shoes and said timidly, "I'm recovering from a surgery. I mean, the surgery was two months ago, and I have my doctor's approval to exercise again. It's just — well, teachers at the beginning of gym classes usually ask if anyone has any injuries, so I wanted to tell you… Not that I was ever the best athlete anyway, but if I seem unusually slow or sluggish for someone in her twenties … this is only my second time working out since the surgery." Her cheeks flushed with what seemed like embarrassment or shame.

James knew that many people would be confused as to why Liana was ashamed of having surgery. But James knew better than anyone that medical procedures could evoke complicated feelings. "Hey," he said softly, and brushed her knuckles with his hand before he could think better of touching her. "It's cool. We'll take it slowly, okay? You don't have to rush into anything your body can't handle."

He didn't say, "handle yet," because he'd hated how, after his own surgery, everyone assumed his body would eventually just bounce back to exactly the way it was before, as though he could simply erase scar tissue.

Liana breathed out a sigh. "Thank you," she said. "I thought you were going to make a joke about my being the only non-senior citizen in the class. But the truth is, any of these sixty-year-olds could probably kick my ass, considering how weak I am."

"You're not weak," he said immediately, hoping his conviction shone through his reply. But damn, her words felt like a dagger to his heart. Of course Liana had expected him to make a joke about her health. Wasn't that all he was known for — popular class clown, fun-loving James? If only she knew how seriously he took his own health these days.

"Well, anyway," Liana said. "You probably know my mom, Deb. She's been coming to your classes for a while and speaks highly of you. She and her friends finally convinced me to join."

"I'm glad you're here. Ready to get started?"

She gulped nervously but nodded. James turned to the class. "Good afternoon, everyone! Happy Tuesday! I'm just tickled pink that you're here for pickle. Now, let's all relish these next 60 minutes together. We'll spend the next few minutes in a warm up to get our bodies moving and our pickles warm." One of the older women snickered, and another seemed to cut off a gasp.

"The woman gasping is new," Deb whispered to Liana, loudly enough that James could hear. "James does these kinds of puns every time, and they're just weird enough that you're never sure if they're innuendos. He's just got this way of loosening everyone up."

James chuckled to himself. Suddenly, he had a vision of exactly how he'd like to loosen Liana up.

Stop it! He immediately scolded himself. Be cool. Be professional. You're her teacher. Don't think about all the things you'd like to do to her. Her mom is standing right next to her, for God's sake!

"Please line up on the sideline, lift your arms up high, and take a deep breath," James continued. "Good. Now, hands move slowly down to your heart. For those new here, I like to take a page from yoga and set an intention. Feel free to set your own intention or to borrow mine. Today, my intention is to take the next 60 minutes to recenter myself. I was feeling a little off balance this morning, and now I want to find balance again."

Yes , he thought. That intention feels right. Some balance will be good .