Chapter 93

By the time Dan got to the locker room, it was too late. All of the players who were competing that day, had already gotten changed, and made their way to the courts. The only individuals he came across in the locker room, a handful of players who’d not yet made the cut to JV or Varsity, informed him the other school had arrived as well, and both sides were already getting stretched and warmed up on the courts.

Dan, intent on finding Peter and speaking with him before the match, dropped off his gear, and left the locker room, searching the courts in a panic. Already a crowd had begun to form around the courts, and he could see both teams in their school tennis uniforms, preparing to play. On the court furthest away from the locker rooms, with the largest crowd, he knew Peter would be. That was, after all, where the top player from both schools would compete. It was also the court with the best view, and actual stands for viewers to sit and watch from.

Even from a distance, he could see those bleachers were filled. And from the looks of it, most of those watching, weren’t parents, nor were they even students from just Dan’s school. If he had to guess, they were other players in the area, from the various schools and academies, all come to watch Peter play.

“Please be alright.” Dan muttered to himself as he hurriedly made his way towards the courts. There wasn’t going to be a spot for him on the bleachers, that much was certain. Still, he saw a few of his fellow players packed along one of the sides of the fencing, and he pushed his way towards them. If he squeezed in, he’d have a good view of Peter, and his opponent. Granted, all he really cared about here, was Peter’s health.

Still, as he neared the courts, he couldn’t help but marvel at all the people gathered for the matches. Both schools had their players on the courts. The Varsity players were on the main set of courts, Peter on the first, then Ben, the top two players from his school, who would be competing in singles, and then, the next three courts, were for doubles players.

From what he’d been told, the school would play a total of five matches, simultaneously, at both the varsity, and JV, level. The school that won the most of those five, would win for the day. According to Peter, at some of the larger school competitions, he didn’t even get a chance to play in the school events, because they usually started with the double’s teams first. And, if they won all three early on, depending on the tournament structure, he didn’t even get a chance to play.

Then again, Dan knew Peter played plenty. Even if he didn’t get to play in those events, Dan knew it didn’t phase Peter. After all, the player would go off on his own and enter local and various state or multistate competitions. Peter played at his own level, and the Senior had even admitted, playing against local schools usually bored him to death.

Regardless, right now, Peter was on the court. Which, to give credit to Peter’s opponent, was pretty impressive. Part of Dan had figured the opposing school would just forfeit that line. After all, Peter was, well, Peter. And no one had a chance against him.

The smile that crept to Dan’s face at the thought, vanished as he reached the fence, his eyes fixed on Peter’s back. The Senior was warming up against his opponent. They’d already moved past the mini-tennis shots, and were both at their respective baselines, working on full court length ground strokes.

Even without pulling up Peter’s information, Dan knew immediately something was wrong. It was slight, and he was pretty sure he, and maybe Coach, would be the only ones to notice. Still, from all the time he’d spent with Peter, Dan had gotten pretty familiar with how the player hit the tennis ball. And all it took, was a few seconds of watching, to realize Peter wasn’t hitting normally. That wasn’t to say he was hitting badly. And, these were warm up shots, which Peter rarely hit seriously. But the pace of his warmup shots, the spin on them, the variety, the movement of his feet on the court, were all different. It was slower, more fatigued. And considering Dan never saw Peter half-ass anything when it came to tennis, it made him worried.

His worries were further confirmed when he did pull up Peter’s information. His health had dropped even further from before, into the Average range. Additionally, his stamina had decreased from Excellent to Great. Along with those reductions, Peter’s mental health score was Average as well. Something was bothering the Senior, and it had gotten worse, not better, since lunch.

Dan felt his panic flare up in his chest as he watched, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t get onto the court, and he doubted, even if he called out to Peter from where he was standing, that it would change anything.

If there was one thing Peter was, it was proud. Proud to a fault, in fact. The cocky, self-assured player wouldn’t leave the court and risk a loss, unless forced to. The fact Peter was even out there, even though something was obviously wrong, was a testament to that. When it came to these high school matches, Peter was king. He’d built a name and reputation for himself amongst all of the players in the area, and he wasn’t going to let that be tarnished.

Dan just hoped Peter’s pride wouldn’t be his downfall. Winning a tennis match, after all, was not worth it, if it resulted in injury or death. For all of Peter’s talk about taking care of oneself and not over doing it, the teenager was a hypocrite. Which, Dan made a rather pointed mental note, to address the moment this match was over.

Till then, Dan scanned the crowd, looking to see if Dr. Young had arrived yet. Additionally, he looked around for any potential sign of someone with some sort of medical training. He knew the soccer team had athletic trainers, who were had learned to help with various injuries such as pulled muscles, sprained ankles, and the likes. Whether or not the tennis team had something similar, he’d never asked.

Then again, at the rate Peter’s health stat seemed to be dropping, he figured it was much, much more than a simple pulled muscle. Meaning, if something did happen, they would need medical staff present. Likely, of the professional kind.

Without saying anything else, Dan pulled out his phone, and hit a few numbers. If Peter’s health continued to drop, he would do what he had to, in order to make sure his best friend was safe, match outcome be damned. Then and there, Dan swore to himself that if Peter’s health or Stamina hit the Very Poor Range, he was calling 9-1-1.