If it were a dream, or story, Tich knew how it should end.

  She would send Al a picture of herself in front of the pyramids, or for some contrived reason his tournament would relocate to Cairo this year. She'd do that dramatic run towards him like those characters at the end of movies. Maybe she'd have a conversation with Sylvia's ghost. Maybe Victor and Marilyn would live happily ever after, Camilla would prioritise her own wants and desires for once, and Helen would find a best friend who loved her unconditionally.

  But life wasn't a story. However simple the day to day monotony, people could surprise you. Even friends you thought you knew very well. Everyone has the potential to change or grow unpredictably, but perhaps she'd been too wrapped up in her grief to notice.

  Helen had campaigned to become head of the debating society next year, and had won. Camilla had been cast for a major part in the school's play - a black comedy sketch. She got to sound pretentious, which she loved. Looking at all the lines, Tich was amazed Camilla could learn them by heart. She never ceased to be amazed by her friends talents. All she'd done in the past month was running. Her best time was now three thirty six. Maybe one day she'd break three thirty.

  Marilyn was the one who'd changed the most. She was quieter, and more thoughtful. Her grades had shot up in some subjects to A*s. But even though she was quieter, it somehow seemed that she had a lot more to say. She was really looking at her university choices, and working out what she wanted to do. Tich had always thought that would be Sylvia's role.

  It was a close shave, but Al's team came out on top of the preliminaries, winning the right to represent England in the under-eighteens Ealy Cup for the third year running. It wasn't a surprise that Ralph Morrison's team was representing America again either. Al emailed her sometimes, just to tell her how he was doing. It felt like he had made the right decision.

  Then, the week before the finals, she received two tickets in the mail.

  "I'm going to see them," Tich announced. "Sylvia's parents are going too. I have an extra ticket - do any of you want to come?"

  In tandem they all turned to look at Marilyn, but she smiled and shook her head, blonde ringlets cascading over her shoulders.

  "Thanks for the thought, but I don't think so."

  "Why not?" Camilla asked, exasperated. "You like him, don't you?"

  "Yes." There was nothing flustered about her reply. It was cool in confidence. "That's precisely why I don't want see him."

  Camilla opened and closed her mouth, searching for a response that would never come. Helen grabbed her hand, and Camilla closed her mouth, but she focused her attention on Marilyn.

  "Why not? Could you explain it to me?"

  Tich thought that Helen too seemed to have calmed down. She seemed to listen to other people not for the gossip, so much as to see whether she could help.

  "I don't really know him," she said, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "What we had was just a... well, a one-night-stand. But it wasn't cheap or... I don't feel guilty about it. I enjoyed it. And it was kind of nice to do it with him. He's not the kind of guy who'd make me feel used. Or irrelevant. He asked me before - what I wanted. I don't want to be disillusioned. I'll always remember him as my first time. And for a first time, it was great, you know? Not just that I enjoyed myself. But I trusted him. He was really considerate of me."

  "Yeah," Helen squeezed Camilla's hand. "That's really great, Mar. I hope when I'm ready, I could have a similar experience. I think being with someone who cares, no matter for how long, is something worth treasuring."

  The taxi dropped Tich and Sylvia's parents off outside the tennis stadium. Dr Holmes handed the driver a tip, and then extended an arm to Mrs Holmes. She took it gently, and tilted her head towards the stadium.

  "It's so busy," Tich marvelled, feeling a momentary spike of trepidation. At first, after Sylvia's death, she'd tried her best to avoid crowds. It was too easy to spot girls that looked like Sylvia. To trick herself in to a false perception.

  "I'm not surprised," Mrs Holmes said, as they entered through the gates and had their bags checked. "It's a lovely day for it."

  "Hopefully they'll open the roof of Centre court."

  Tich practically skipped as they made their way through the grounds and up the steps. Sylvia used to joke that she had to run because her legs were too short to get her up any other way. She used to say Tich could get anywhere she wanted to through sheer determination. Tich smiled. Sylvia had always made her feel like she could take the world by storm. Even now, in remembrance, she felt giddy. How exciting to be living here right now under this sun and on this day. Sylvia would say the same if she were here. In a way, the unused ticket was for Sylvia. There was something right about that.

  "We're going to get a drink on the terrace, Tich," Mrs Holmes explained, taking her hand. "Would you like to come with us?"

  "Actually, I think I might go exploring for a bit," she said with a grin. They still had plenty of time before the match.

  She waved goodbye to them before taking off in the other direction. Tich headed towards the nearest official and flashed the VIP pass Al had acquired for her along with the ticket. She was directed down a corridor to the east entrance of the stadium, towards the changing rooms, and she thanked the official in response before heading in that direction.

  She took a detour to one of the many little cafes around the area to buy an orange Tango, although all they had on offer was Fanta. Life was like that. Full of slight variances. She was happily sipping on it through a straw when she spotted Mark Laton talking with his former teammates, including Ralph Morison.

  Her brain instantly went into panic, but she couldn't exactly stop dead in the middle of the corridor. She'd draw attention to herself. So she kept walking, hoping he wouldn't pay her any attention. She was a little annoyed that he'd never bothered to collect his things. She'd had to mail them to him on Mrs Holmes' behalf a few weeks ago. The arrogance of some people.

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  "It's just like last year," Ralph was saying.

  "Yeah," Mark muttered. "Except this year I'm going to win."

  "Save it for the court," one of their friends said. "We're still going to be friends, regardless of who wins, alright?" He threw an arm around Ralph's shoulders. Tich swallowed. They were almost next to each other now, and fortunately Mark hadn't noticed she was there yet. "Although, it's the last time Mark's playing under eighteens."

  He was going to walk straight past her without saying anything. She'd hoped for it. But now that it was happening, his ignorance annoyed her even more. She wanted him to notice her - to have some reaction at the very least.

  "Hi." The greeting was high pitched and sounded totally ridiculous coming out of her mouth, but it got Mark's attention as he brushed by. His head whipped around, his eyes widening with surprise as he recognised her. His friends were all staring at her too and she suddenly felt completely awkward. Why on earth had she done that? It would have been better if they'd ignored each other.

  She'd been so angry with him. But some of what he'd said had resonated. Had allowed her to have that conversation with Al with a different perspective. A little part of her appreciated that. Even if he was a jerk.

  "Um," she started, not sure what to say.

  "Sorry." Tich openly gawped at him, and was joined in that by all of his friends. Mark crossed his arms, his expression becoming unreadable and hard. He wasn't going to elaborate any. In fact, maybe his pride meant he couldn't acknowledge he'd even allowed that apology to happen, and Tich couldn't help herself. She was happy.

  "Wow," she said, quickly adjusting her giant mushroom hat so as to be able to properly look up at him. "Yeah." She grinned. "I think that'll do it." She held out her hand to him. "Good luck today."

  He hesitated for a moment before taking her hand, dropping it a second later. He had a strong handshake.

  "I don't need it." She grinned. Of course he didn't. Mark didn't need anything.

  "Thank you for saying it," she said, and the corners of her eyes crinkled a little as remembered the party. "Someone had to."

  "Who are you?" Ralph asked, his eyes wide. It was a bit weird talking to last year's champion. She was totally out of her depth. She looked around and noticed the curiosity on his friends' faces. Mark's expression had frozen after she'd declared her gratitude. It was a weird moment for everyone. How could she explain what had happened between them? It was a long story. And an unimportant one.

  "Just a fan," she decided. She shot Mark a smile, and noticed his eyebrows had risen. "Not yours," she added and marched away from the group as quickly as she could, blushing ridiculously.

  "What do you want?" Victor yelled, swinging the door open with excessive amounts of force. He was obviously a little tense before the match, but he froze when he saw her standing there.

  "Easy," Tich said with a placating gesture. "It's only me."

  "Tich?" Jim called from inside. He quickly joined Victor at the door. "What're you doing here?"

  "I thought I'd come wish you lot good luck, and to say that I'll be watching, so you better do your best!" Her voice was far too squeaky.

  "Are you by yourself?" Tony asked as she entered the room. "Oh, did you want tea or something? Have you eaten yet?"

  "Al's parents are having champagne on the terrace," she said, trying to defeat any awkward situations with Victor with an endless supply of optimism. She brandished the Fanta to show she had a drink. "And I'm fine thanks. Oh. Dear." She'd just caught sight of Al's face. He looked deathly pale. His head was in his hands like he had the worst headache ever. "Are you alright?" she asked, coming to sit down by him, completely concerned.

  "Fine," he mumbled. Jim laughed and joined them on the other side.

  "You should ignore him. He always gets like that before an important match."

  "Seriously?" Tich was completely taken by surprise by this revelation. "But you always look so confident in matches," she said, turning back to him again. Al dropped his hands and turned to look at her with an amused smile.

  "Thanks, but how would you know?" Her eyebrows rose and she shook her head at him in a mockery of despair.

  "Who do you think kept Sylvia company every time she was cheering you on from the sofa during a live feed?" Al laughed, and the other three, who had tensed up when Tich had said Sylvia's name, relaxed.

  "I can't believe you're still wearing that hat," Victor muttered, lounging against the wall. He was acting a little sour, and Tich wondered if he wasn't secretly bothered that Marilyn hadn't come.

  "Well, it's my favourite," she explained. "Even if I do look like a mushroom when I wear it." Jim snorted.

  "You do."

  "I'm glad someone said it," Tony muttered, and Tich threw a jumper she found on the bench at him.

  "What gives?" she cried, although she was laughing so they knew it was in good humour. In the same way, she wasn't offended that Tony managed to catch the jumper easily before it hit him. Not that it would have hurt him anyway. "I don't know. I come here to give you guys some unconditional support, and all I get is ridicule. Some people." She finished with a ridiculously exaggerated eye roll that put her on par with a maddened horse.

  "We appreciate it really," Tony said, trying to mollify her offended pride, and she grinned at him.

  "Well, you can make it up to me if you win," she muttered, crossing her arms. She looked back to Al and touched his arm when she saw he seemed to be getting even paler. "No pressure." He reached up and squeezed her hand.

  "Yeah, thanks."

  There was a knock on the door, and somebody official stuck her head around the door.

  "Match time in fortyfive minutes. You could start making your way to the stadium for warm-ups any time in the next fifteen." She glanced around. "Where's-?"

  "Mark had to go bond with Ralph," Victor explained, and the official looked a little surprised by his choice of words. Tich just about managed to contain her grin. "He'll be back." Al got to his feet.

  "We'll make sure he knows."

  "Well, if you're sure," the official said and left, looking completely unsure herself. Tich shook her head. Mark wouldn't be late to a match. Especially not a championship final. She was sure of it. The boys collected up their things and headed to the door.

  "Where are you watching from, anyway?" Tony asked. Tich shrugged. She had the feeling it was quite a good seat.

  "Wherever they put me, I suppose." She smiled up at Al. He looked better now that he was standing. "It'll be fun watching from the stands! I always wanted to do that some day."

  "I'm glad you came," he said quietly, and she heard the rest of his team shuffle away.

  "We'll go find Mark," Jim shouted and closed the door behind them. She could practically hear Victor rolling his eyes, and Jim's obnoxious laughter in the corridor. Al shook his head exasperatedly.

  "Well, that was considerate," Tich said, turning back to him with laughter in her eyes. "If a little over the top." Alan took her hands.

  "I wasn't sure you would come. I didn't want to make it difficult for you." She pitched up onto her toes so that she could reached his cheek.

  "I wouldn't have missed it."

  "After this..." he hesitated. His jaw worked as if he were chewing on his words. "After this, can I take you out." She felt the blush coming, rising up her throat to her face. "I don't mean with my parents today. I mean after that."

  "Yes," she said, her smile curling across her face. She'd known what he meant. The fact that he'd stumbled over it was incredibly endearing. "I'd really love to."

  "Great." Suddenly she was being picked up and spun around.

  She only shrieked a little bit.

  Eventually he put her back down, and she struggled to catch her breath, laughing at the silliness and the spectacle of it all. The brilliance of it.

  "Good luck today," she hesitated. "Or, break a leg? Or, whatever it is I should be saying."

  "Good luck will do." He caught her hand and bent to kiss the inside of her wrist. She'd thought she knew what it felt like to blush before. But this took it to a whole new level. He grinned with delight at her expression. She couldn't quite believe it was happening. "I should go find the others."

  They left the locker room, and headed through the hallways in search of the team. She saw a girl with strawberry blonde hair out of the corner of her eye, and her heart skipped a beat. She knew without looking that it wouldn't be Sylvia. It never was. But it was nice to imagine Sylvia was with them. She squeezed Al's hand gratefully.

  She had a lot to be thankful for.

  Wouldn't it be wonderful if, this time, they won?

  THE END

  Author Notes:

  Afterword: