The joy was undercut when she saw what he was doing: flirting with the college-age girl pro standing at the fence behind him. Jesus, Charlie thought, as she watched the girl laughing at something Jude said, how hard up do you have to be to accept the attention of a high school guy when you’re already, like, what, twenty? Not, Charlie admitted to herself, that this girl looked like she was hurting for male attention. She was a slim brunette with a face that was cute if you didn’t mind snub noses. Still, though, she should stay out of the nursery.

Charlie slipped the cover off her racquet and tossed it on the bench, then walked over to Jude and the girl.

When he saw her, he smiled big, and she understood that he’d suffered none of the insecurities she’d suffered, had known all along that she’d show, that she wouldn’t forget. “Charlie,” he said, waving her over, not in the least embarrassed, of course, to be caught hitting on one girl while waiting for another, “this is Lucy. She went to Saint Augie’s with me. Was a senior when I was a freshman.”

Charlie looked at him. “But I thought you go to Prentice Hall?”

“I do. But that’s only because they kicked me out of Saint Augie’s. Lucy was the best-looking girl in the senior class, no contest. Lucy, this is Charlie.”

Charlie waved to Lucy through the chain-link fence. They exchanged a few pleasantries. Charlie asked her how she liked playing for Amherst, taking pains to be extra friendly and polite. (Nothing, she knew, betrayed jealousy quicker than a lack of manners.) Finally, Lucy told them both to have a good match, then sauntered off to the doubles class she was teaching a few courts over. Jude made a point of watching her go.

“You ready?” Charlie said to him, when Lucy was out of sight.

He turned to her. “Wait, aren’t we going to warm up first?”

“Nope.”

“Skip the foreplay?” He shrugged, grinned. “Well, okay, baby, but just this once.”

“Do you want to serve or receive?” she said, keeping her voice cool, all business.

“Normally I’d let you receive because that’s just the kind of guy I am. But my arm’s kind of cold, so I’m going to have you serve first.”

As Charlie jogged to the other side of the court, she decided that she didn’t just want to beat Jude; she wanted to destroy him. Leave him broken and humiliated, begging for mercy. And when she tossed the ball in the air for her first serve, she really went after it, tried to hit the cover off. The ball went into the net, but the aggression still felt good. And, as she stepped to the line for serve number two, she saw Jude take a giant step backward. Good, he was scared.