Chapter 1

What am I doing here? He looked at the scene playing out before him. Rows upon rows of tennis courts, filled with people playing the game. Sure, he knew what tennis was. Who didn’t? But he’d never played it. In fact, as far as he could tell, in his 14 years on the planet, he’d never even stepped foot on a tennis court. It just wasn’t something that had called to him. If he was playing sports, he preferred soccer, but mostly, he’d rather stay in and play games.

And yet, here he was. Watching people play a game that it seemed they’d been playing for probably most of their lives. Beside him, the whole reason he was out on the court today. Well, alright, not really the reason…but he was definitely going to be in for some of the blame. The boy standing beside him was 17 years old, a Senior at the school, and the person selected to be his ‘guide’ at his new school.

Perhaps it would help to rewind a bit. To explain a little better why he was here, and what he was doing here. At the very least, it could help to get his mind around everything that was going on.

His name was Daniel Meadows, though he went by Dan usually. He was 14 years old, and was brand-new to the school. In fact, he was brand-new to the state, having just moved there a little over a month ago thanks to his father’s job. Which, wasn’t anything new…he had to move a lot because of his father’s job. Sadly, that just what came with being a military brat.

That being said, his father promised this would be the last move. And, in his dad’s mind at least, to show he was serious…he’d enrolled Dan in a private school. St. Arthurs Prep Academy to be precise. Apparently the school was rather well known in the parts, and students who graduated from it usually found themselves with great college aspects and a bright future. Thanks Dad. All it meant for Dan was he was now at some prep academy filled with people who seemed to have known each other their entire lives. Which made him feel even more like an outsider as he showed up for his first day of school.

This was further exacerbated by the fact that when he made his way to the Principal’s Office to check in and get his schedule, he was met by not only the Principal, Dr. Francis Young, but the senior now standing next to him on the tennis courts, Peter Young. The principal’s son. Apparently new students were rare at St. Arthurs, and so they assigned student advisors to the freshman who didn’t arrive via one of their feeder academies. Lucky for Dan…he got the principals son…yay.

Still, he’d promised his dad he would do his best. And it wasn’t like he was too worried about the curriculum at the school. He’d always done relatively well at the schools on base when he was younger, as well as the public schools he attended as they’d moved around. And honestly, some of the classes being offered at the school definitely piqued his interest. Because it was a private academy, it seemed there were more options available in class variety, not only with a wider range of languages, but some additional class options such as game design, culinary arts, and even an introduction to ancient crafts class, which all seemed rather intriguing. So, he introduced himself to the Principal and accepted Peter’s assistance. The senior was there to help show him around the school, discuss with him all the academy had to offer, and help him structure his schedule to best suit not only his interests, but put him on a path toward success for his future.

None of this, obviously, had anything to do with tennis. But it did lead to where he was now. Because as they were walking around, as Peter was showing him the school and they were going through some normal small talk, the good old, ‘what brings you here, where are you from, how many places have you lived, etc’ set of questions, something caught Dan’s eye. More appropriately, someone. A girl with silver-streaked hair, walking with another group of students, her hazel eyes seeming to shine brilliantly as she smiled towards Peter, and Dan.

He’d needed to immediately know who she was. Dan had never before been all that interested in girls or relationships. When you moved around every year or two you didn’t really find yourself planning on making long term relations with people. Plus, he’d been young. But now, with his hormones in full blast…he felt something within him awaken as he looked over her.

To his surprise…Peter had been more than willing to not only fill him in on her, a Junior named Sophia Hart, but also seemed to have caught on to Dan’s immediate interest in her and offered him some good advice. According to Peter, Sophia loved tennis. She played on the girl’s team for the school. And, Peter added, if Dan wanted a chance with her, he should join the boy’s tennis team, because it was a well-known fact, according to Peter, that Sophia only dated guys from the tennis team.

Which, brought him back to where he was. Standing on the clay tennis courts, watching as probably 30 or so boys all played tennis. And that was just the people actually playing. There were players more milling about, running to and fro to collect errant balls, doing various cardio exercises, or swinging their racquets in synch to the commands of another player. It was…intense to say the least.

And yet, as he glanced away from the boy’s practice, he could see another set of courts where the girls were coming out to begin their practices. And sure enough, just as Peter had told him, he saw Sophia stepping out on to the courts. Dan immediately fell in love with the sport even more as she did. Sophia looked great in her tennis attire. Tennis skirts were now one of Dan’s favorite sets of clothes.

“Alright Danny.” Peter said, pulling his attention away from Sophia. “You’re going to have to prove your skills if you ever want a chance at her.” Peter grinned and pulled a bag off his shoulder. The senior had dipped into the locker room earlier to change into his own tennis outfit, and come out with a large bulky bag. “You ever played?”

Dan looked down at the bag. It was full of tennis racquets. “Uh,” he’d told Peter he used to play soccer, but avoided mentioning he’d never played tennis. Granted…his mind had been rather focused on Sophia when the senior had told him he should join the team. Meaning, he’d definitely not been paying as much attention to the conversation as he should have.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Peter laughed and reached into the bag. He fished around with the racquets for a little, before pulling out a black and orange racquet. “Here, you can use this.” He held it up to Dan.

As Dan took it, Peter continued. “That’s a Wilson Burn 100. It’s a good beginner racquet. I’ll let you use it for now. Once you get used to swinging a racquet and playing, we can get you something better. I’ve got a rather nice collection of racquets, so I’m sure I will always have something you need.”

He flashed Dan a warm smile and he couldn’t help but return it. All day, Peter really had been nothing but kind to Dan. “Thanks, though…are these expensive?” Peter had to have at least 20 different racquets in that bag, and yet the Senior was zipping it up and simply shoving it off to the side of the fence. On his back he had a smaller bag that had only two racquets in it, both seeming to be the exact same. And it was one of those Peter was pulling out for himself.

“Eh,” Peter shrugged, “some of them are. But don’t worry about it. I won them off other players, so they didn’t cost me a dime.” His grin widened, and Dan suddenly felt a brief moment of uncertainty. So…Peter had won these racquets off other players? All Dan could think about was pink slip car racing, or ante rules for various card games. Plus, he now had to wonder, how good was Peter at tennis? Because if he was winning those off of other players…

“Right, okay.” Dan gripped the racquet in his hand, now aware that it had once belonged to someone else. Someone who had lost it to Dan. What if it had been a gift? What if they’d bought it with their own hard-earned money? And then, just lost it to Peter. As these thoughts flowed through his mind, he caught the sound of laughter, and was drawn back to the girl’s courts…and to Sophia. Suddenly, he didn’t care how Peter got the racquet. Besides, if someone was going to bet their racquet on a game, surely they knew what they were risking.

“So where do we start?” Dan had a racquet in hand. He was ready. Nervous, but ready. If this was the way to get Sophia’s attention, then so be it.

“We start over there,” Peter pointed with his racquet towards the distance. Across the street from the clay courts where everyone was practicing, was a single, empty court. “That’s the only hard court in the area. None of our players use it, other than when they are preparing for a tournament that’s going to be on hard court. The clay,” he kicked lightly at the ground, sending the green clay moving about, “is easier on the body.” He used his racquet to point at the mass of players. “We’ve actually been practicing all summer. The school holds the tennis team in high regard. And most of our guys have been playing for at least 4 or 5 years. I’ll show you the ropes, make sure you can at least swing a racquet properly, and then I will introduce you to some of the other freshman and get you started. From there, it’s up to you to climb your way up. You’ll find quickly, the tennis world can be rather cutthroat.” He chuckled and nodded towards Dan’s racquet, as if to drive that point home. Then, he took off jogging towards the court.

Dan followed after, noticing how the other players looked at Peter and himself. Many of the younger players, seemed to eye Peter almost fearfully. The older players though all gave the Senior a slight nod. Peter was definitely a somebody on the court.

“Skipping practice again?” A voice called out as they exited the clay court area and began making their way towards the road. It was about a hundred yards away, all of which was covered gently in grass. Still, the walk took them past the court where the girls were practicing, and Sophia apparently had caught sight of them.

Peter offered her a smile and a laugh. “Surely you’re not implying I skip practices.”

Sophia chuckled as a few of the other girls stepped up beside her. “Of course, because the Golden Boy would never skip out on practices.” Her voice was filled with sarcasm. “You know sooner or later someone is going to show up and beat you if you keep skipping out.”

Peter chuckled and held up his racquet. “As you can see, I’m not skipping.” He motioned towards Dan, “I’m going to teach Danny here some of the basics. He just transferred to the school and wanted to join the team.”

Sophia turned and smiled towards Dan. “Oh really? Have you played before?”

Dan shook his head. “Uh, no. But it seems like…fun?” Gah, that sounded stupid.

“It definitely is.” She motioned towards Peter, “and if Peter’s going to teach you, you’re in good hands. Sure…he may be overly cocky,”

“It’s not cockiness if it’s true,” Peter interjected, but was promptly ignored as Sophia continued.

“But he really is good. And, if you need any pointers from someone a little less arrogant,” she shot a smirk and a look at Peter, “feel free to ask.”

“Thanks.” Dan replied. Peter was right. This was the way. Already Sophia was talking to him. And she’d offered to help him learn. If he could get good enough…maybe, just maybe, all of this would work out.

“Right, enough small chat though.” Peter stopped the conversation, and offered a slight head bow towards the girls. “You’ve got practice, and I’ve got to teach Dan how to swing a racquet.” He turned back to the hard court in the distance. “First though,” He chuckled, “How about you show me how fast you are.” And with that, the senior took off. His long legs gave him a massive stride, and he was off like a gazelle.

“Shit,” Dan cursed as he tried to run after the senior. Peter was halfway to the road already, and didn’t seem to be slowing. “I’ll see you later.” Dan called back to Sophia as he tried to pick up his pace. He’d played forward in soccer, meaning he was no stranger to short sprints. He was quite proud of his sprinting pace, in fact. And as such, even though the senior had a head start, he was slowly gaining on him.

Peter got to the street with Dan trailing only twenty or so yards behind. The gap was closing. He locked his eyes on the senior’s back as Peter rushed across the four-lane road. Dan’s feet hit concrete, then asphalt as he crossed from the sidewalk to the road. Fifteen yards now. He dug in. He could make it. If he gave it his all on the road he would be able to-

The sound of a horn was all he heard as he turned just in time to see a truck hurtling towards him. He tried to pick up his pace, but it was too late. Even as the truck slammed on its breaks the two, boy and vehicle, collided. The truck clipped him, sending him sprawling fifteen feet in the air, the shock and adrenaline of the moment keeping him from feeling pain. And then, his head met asphalt, and the world went black.