Second Chance (Sweet Valley High Book 53) Page 8

  As if Bruce knew what made a real champ, Elizabeth thought now. Well, Kristin would show him. Elizabeth and Enid were going to do their very best to make sure to round up a huge group of fans to watch Kristin's comeback!

  "OK, Kristin," Nick Wylie said, crossing his arms and looking at her thoughtfully. "I guess this is the moment when I'm supposed to give you a huge pep talk, right?" He shook his head. "But all I can tell you is that you've got a tough match in front of you. Rachel Rose has won every single one of her games so far in the Avery Cup."

  Kristin took a deep breath. "You're not calming me down," she admitted ruefully.

  It was Sunday morning, and Kristin was getting ready for her tournament match. Already the stands were packed with people. It was going to be a new sensation for Kristin, playing in a tournament this size. If only her first match wasn't against someone as aggressive as Rachel Rose!

  "I'm only saying all this so you won't be too hard on yourself if you lose," Nick said, patting her on the arm. "I just want you to give it your best shot, Kris."

  Kristin barely heard Nick's last words. She was watching Rachel pacing back and forth along the baseline of the far court, stretching out her arms and talking to herself. Rachel was a small, wiry girl with dark, frizzy hair and an intense expression. Kristin steeled herself. Then she smiled at Nick. "You know," she said softly, "I'm going to beat her, Nick."

  Nick stared at her.

  Kristin didn't say anything more. She picked up her racket and walked out onto the court, still smiling. She had never felt this way before. All of a sudden she radiated confidence, as though there was nothing in the whole world that could stand in her way. She waved to her father in the stands, and to Emily and Dorrie, who were sitting next to him.

  "Go, Kristin!" She heard a roar and turned to see Elizabeth Wakefield. Kristin's eyes widened as she realized a whole crowd from school was in the stands. Her eyes picked out Elizabeth and her little sister Kim, Jessica, Jeffrey, A.J., Enid, Winston, Amy Sutton, Bruce. Bruce! she thought. What on earth was he doing there?

  Well, she'd show him, she thought, tightening her grip on the racket. Kristin was determined she was going to play tennis like she had never played before. She had never felt as ready in her whole life as she did when Rachel came forward to serve.

  The next few hours were the most intense Kristin had ever experienced. As Nick had predicted, Rachel was a powerhouse. Her serve was extremely strong for a young woman, and it took Kristin several games before she could return it without great effort. Rachel was fast, too. She darted from one side of the court to the other with lightning speed, lobbing the ball into a far corner or sending it slamming to the end of the court. Kristin ran harder and farther in the first set than she could ever remember. But she was keeping up. She lost the first set, 4–6, but she had proven to herself that she could keep up with Rachel. And she'd gotten used to her serve and her style. Now all she had to do was surpass her.

  During the break between the first and second set, Kristin gulped down a glass of water and ran a towel over her face. As she thought about the next set, she told herself, "I'm going to beat her if it kills me!"

  And that was exactly what Kristin did. She played the next set with a kind of concentration and energy that she didn't know she was capable of. She returned every single shot with speed and grace, and she kept Rachel running so much that the girl couldn't catch her breath. By the middle of the second set Kristin found out something about Rachel Rose. She was strong and quick, but she didn't have a backhand. Once Kristin found out her weak point, she didn't let her off. She kept whizzing balls to Rachel's left side, and Rachel began to lose. Kristin took the second set, 6–2.

  The crowd was absolutely delirious. Everyone was cheering and crying out, "Kristin! Kristin!", barely able to believe that she had come from the position of underdog to tie the top-seeded Rachel Rose. But she'd done it. Winning the set made her feel extremely strong and refreshed. From the first game of the third set Kristin knew she had Rachel exactly where she wanted her. The dark-haired girl was exhausted, and Kristin just kept slamming the ball to her backhand. She won the final set six games to four, and the crowd went crazy.

  "I can't believe it!" Nick cried, running out onto the court and throwing his arms around her.

  The next minute Kristin was surrounded. Her father, Dorrie, Nick, Emily, a crowd of reporters, kids from school—everyone was jumping up and down around her. An official was presenting her with flowers, and Dorrie, tears running down her face, was trying to snap photos. Kristin felt as if she were in a dream. Rachel seemed to float toward her in slow motion, then reached out to shake Kristin's hand.

  "I've never played a match like that," Rachel said slowly, shaking her head. "It hurts to say this, but you really deserved to win. That was an incredible match, Kristin."

  "Kris!" she heard a little voice exclaiming.

  She looked down to see Emily Brown, looking slightly shy and confused by the excited throng, reaching out her tiny hand to shake.

  Then Kristin got a big lump in her throat. "Come here," she gasped and scooped the child up in her arms. She hugged her so hard that Emily cried out. But Kristin didn't want to ever let her go. She felt so full of joy right then, she thought her heart would break. She had everything in the world that mattered.

  "Kristin," Mr. Thompson said that evening, putting his arm around her as they strolled into the restaurant where he was taking her to celebrate. "I'm really glad we're getting a chance to have dinner alone, just the two of us. I feel like there're an awful lot of things we need to talk through."

  Kristin nodded. "I haven't been very easy to live with lately," she admitted.

  "Well, I don't think I've been the world's most sympathetic father. Sometimes I get so excited by your success that I end up putting pressure on you without really intending to."

  Kristin nodded seriously. "I'm glad we're going to have a chance to talk, too. There are some things I've been thinking about, and I really want to ask your advice."

  Soon the two were seated at a window table and had ordered dinner, leaving them free to talk.

  "You've been upset with me for weeks, haven't you?" her father began. "I get the feeling that you see me as something I'm really not. Like you think all I care about is whether you've won another trophy." His eyes were very serious. "Kristin," he said in an emotional voice, "would you believe me if I were to tell you that if you quit tennis today I wouldn't care? That all I want is for you to be happy?"

  "I would believe it," Kristin said softly. "You know, before I met Emily, I don't think I would have. But now I think I have a little more sense of what it's like to love someone—to be responsible for them. I was disappointed when Emily didn't get into tennis camp, for her sake. But I didn't love her any less because of it. I was just sorry because she'd worked hard for something she wanted."

  Mr. Thompson nodded seriously. "I know you're going to have some very big decisions to make in the coming years. You know, you're growing up now. You're going to date—"

  Kristin couldn't help interrupting. "You know, Dad, you were absolutely right about Bruce. He turned out to be the most arrogant, shallow, uncaring—"

  Mr. Thompson put his hand up to stop her. "That may be, but I still wasn't right. I don't know Bruce. The truth was, I was trying to control your life. And that isn't my place. You were right, Kristin, and I was wrong. You're the only one who can learn to juggle all the different things you want. And it won't just be social life, either. You're going to have a lot of tough decisions to make now that you're a pro."

  Kristin took a sip of water. Now that you're a pro. Those words sounded like magic to her! Her eyes softened as she looked at her father. "I just hope I can always talk them through with you," she murmured.

  Her father covered her hand with his, his eyes incredibly tender. "I hope so, too, Kristin. Now there's something big I want to talk to you about. And I want you to tell me what you think."

  Kristin nodded at h
im expectantly, but something deep inside told her that she knew what he was going to say before he began.

  "It's about Dorrie and you, isn't it?" she said.

  Her father stared at her. Then he started to laugh. "How did you know?" he demanded.

  Kristin laughed, too. Actually, she didn't realize she knew until that very minute. But she didn't need her father to say one word more to guess that he and Dorrie were in love.

  "Nothing's going to change for any of us," her father said slowly, "but Dorrie and I have been such close friends for so many years, and sometimes I find myself hoping . . ." He couldn't finish the sentence, and Kristin felt incredibly moved. She could only guess how lonesome her father must have been since her mother's death.

  "I hope the same thing," she said, smiling at him. The look of surprise and relief on his face made her almost want to cry. It was so wonderful that they could finally talk to each other like this. Kristin thought then that for the first time in her life she was seeing her father as a person, not as someone to please or to disappoint.

  "Now, let's have a toast," her father said, grinning at her. He chimed his wineglass against her glass of water. "To the very best daughter a man could possibly have. And to the start of an amazing career as a pro player!"

  Kristin grinned back at him, lifting her glass. "To love," she said. "To finding out it matters more than anything else ever could!"

  Thirteen

  Kristin was at her school locker Monday morning when she heard someone calling her name. It was hard to tell at first where the voice was coming from, and then she saw Bruce hurrying toward her with a distressed look on his face.

  "Kristin, listen to me," he said before she could say a single word. "You were great yesterday—absolutely awesome. I'm not kidding."

  "Thanks," Kristin said, opening her locker and trying to hide a smile. Bruce was so transparent. Now that she had won her match and was on the pro team, he would probably want to ask her out again!

  Bruce seemed to relax a little when he saw she wasn't acting angry with him. "So," he said, leaning back against the locker next to hers and looking at her with a little smile on his face, "what do you think about letting me take you out to celebrate? I know this fantastic new Japanese restaurant downtown we could try, or—"

  "Bruce," Kristin said, taking out the books she needed and turning to face him squarely, "now that I'm playing in the tournament, I'm amazingly busy. The fact is, I have to do everything I can to make sure I have enough time for family—and special friends." She looked at him significantly. "So you can understand why I have to say no." She started to walk away, and Bruce looked stricken.

  "But, Kristin—" he cried, hurrying after her.

  Kristin shook her head at him. "Just for the record," she said lightly, "you ought to try getting serious about something. It might be a nice change." And with that she started off down the hall, feeling a secret flash of triumph.

  Despite her bad experience with Bruce, Kristin had to admit she had learned something from him. One day—maybe not too far away now—there would be someone special, and she was going to have to learn to make adjustments in her life so there would be room. But it had to be the right boy. And Kristin was more than willing to wait.

  The ice-cream party for the big and little sisters was held Wednesday afternoon in the gym. A good number of people had turned out: all the girls participating in the program, as well as friends and several faculty members from school. Mr. Collins was helping Elizabeth spoon out healthy portions of ice cream for the make-your-own-sundae line, and Elizabeth's own little sister, Kim Edgars, was keeping her entertained with funny stories from school.

  "Boy, it must be so cool getting to go watch Kristin play in tournaments," Allison Post said to Emily, big-eyed as she watched Kristin help the two of them to ice cream.

  Jessica gave her little sister a funny look. "Allison," she said, "haven't we had a good time, going to the beach and the mall together?"

  A.J., who had just come up from behind them to overhear this question, couldn't help laughing. "Uh-oh," he said. "Don't tell me we're getting competitive here!"

  Jessica looked hurt as she watched Allison scamper off to put toppings on her ice cream. "What an ungrateful child," she complained. "Here I've been doing all sorts of wonderful things for her, and she acts like she'd rather have Kristin for a big sister."

  A.J. put his arm around her. "Listen, speaking of competition," he said, "I've got a draft of my essay for the Samaritans' contest. Will you take a look at it later and tell me what you think?"

  "Sure," Jessica said. Her blue-green eyes shone. "So, if you win this contest, that means you get to be king of the Citizens' Day Ball, right?"

  "Right," A.J. said, smiling down at her.

  Jessica's mind was working fast. "What do they do about a queen if a guy wins the competition? They can't have a king with no queen," she pointed out.

  A.J. laughed. "I guess the king gets to pick the queen, and vice versa. Why?" he demanded, tickling her. "Anyone I know happen to be interested in being queen?"

  Jessica put her chin in the air. "I wouldn't mind," she said airily.

  The truth was, just then Jessica was feeling that she could use a little extra fuss and attention. It had been a long time since she had been the center of things. And being queen of the Citizens' Day Ball sounded like just the way to do it!

  Will Jessica get to be queen of the Citizens' Day Ball? Find out in Sweet Valley High #54, TWO-BOY WEEKEND.