*

The following day, Audra pants, out of breath. Her blue eyes narrow, and her nostrils flare. She wears all white. White sneakers, a white dress, and a white Nike visor. A silver tennis bracelet dangles from her wrist, sparkling. Sweat drips from her forehead, and wisps of blonde hair flutter in the breeze. She is beautiful.

Across the court, Jim attempts to catch his breath, rocking back on the ball of his foot as he prepares to serve. Audra twirls her tennis racket. Impatient.

The ball is tossed, Jim serves, and SWOOSH! Audra smacks it.

She smiles as Jim turns, watching the ball sail by. His shoulders sink, and he sighs.

Audra cheers, spinning excitedly, "Love set! I win again!"

Jim shakes his head, coated in sweat. Chestnut curls stick to his forehead. "You're killing me here, Ace. I'd hardly call that a fair set."

Audra points at him with her racket, "Don't say that. I only agreed to take the summer off if I practiced. This is practicing."

"This is felony assault," Jim argues, holding a stitch in his side. "You know what? I think I'm having a heart attack."

"You are not." Audra laughs, approaching the net and reaching for her water bottle.

"No, I am. I swear to God, if I die—"

"Would you stop being such a fucking baby and sit down?" Audra rolls her eyes, taking a seat on the ground and a swig off her water bottle. Grumbling, Jim sits beside her. Audra hands him a bottle of Gatorade. "What crawled up your ass and died this morning?" She asks, wiping sweat from her forehead.

"Nothing."

Audra arches an eyebrow, waiting.

Jim exhales, "It's just– My mom gets in this morning. And uh,"

"You're nervous to introduce her to Isobel?"

"You could say that again." Jim chuckles.

He takes a drink, shaking his head, and Audra waits again, knowing he has more to say, "My mom can be a little judgmental."

Audra scoffs, "Ha! And you're a saint."

Jim laughs, resting his elbows against his knees. Audra leans back, bracing herself against her wrist. She takes another drink of water as Jim contemplates his next question, "Are you okay?"

"What?" Audra furrows. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. I feel like I hardly saw you yesterday."

"You're exaggerating."

"You didn't want to come sailing with us."

"For fucks sake. I was tired. It's not that big of a deal."

"Listen, if you're feeling excluded because of Isobel and I, just–"

Audra's eyes widen. She scoffs, turning sharply, "James Talbott, look at me."

Jim faces Audra, frowning nervously.

"Get. Over. Yourself." She says.

They stare at one another, Audra's expression unchanging until finally, Jim presses his eyes shut. He holds his face in his hands and laughs, inviting Audra to join in.

She cackles, "God, you're such an asshole!"

Jim laughs harder as Audra impersonates him, "'Listen, if you're feeling excluded because of Isobel and I–' What the fuck is wrong with you?" She stands, offering him a hand, "Get up."

"I'm sorry."

"Do you hear yourself?" Jim continues to snicker, struggling to his feet. Audra shakes her head. "Bloody hell."

They grab their rackets and start towards the house. Audra slings a designer duffle bag over her shoulder.

She takes another drink of water as the two cross the court. Jim, beside her, walks backwards, bouncing, "Hey, I meant to ask you, what do you think of Peter? He's great, right?"

Audra chokes, coughing as she attempts to swallow. "Uh, yeah. No, totally. He's great."

Jim beams, "See, what did I tell you?" Audra nods as he faces forward again. "This is going to be the best summer yet."

Awkwardly, Audra agrees.

They go inside.