"State of Emergency": Geneviève's tennis weekend

Weekend of the NCAO Doubles Championship
Saturday, 7 Nov.

Morning routine

Geneviève wakes early, and makes herself a cup of espresso. The room feels too quiet without MC, who'd taken to stopping by for a morning coffee/tea/juice before practice.

Today, however, there's no thump of footsteps, no soft, sleepy grin, no brainless conversation.
Geneviève hadn't noticed how much she'd begun to enjoy this particular way to start the day until now.

Ridiculous, Geneviève sniffs, draining the rest of the tiny cup.

She heads to the library to complete a political theory essay, determined to get on with her weekend. Things can't just grind to a halt because one particular freshman's not around.

She makes it about two sentences in before her phone beeps.

New Message (1)

Geneviève's heart jumps, and she taps to read it before she can stop herself.

MC: "Got through to the quarter-finals. Here's the tournament draw, if you're interested. Talk to ya later, maybe?"

The attached selfie shows MC biting into a giant meat sandwich, teammates laughing in the background—pure American Jock energy.

Something twists in Geneviève's chest. Not jealousy exactly, but…she does find herself wondering what would it be like to inhabit that world. Traveling, training, competing together, laughing and joking around between matches. She frowns, and tamps it down with a small flicker of surprise.

Utterly ridiculous. It's certainly not the kind of life she'd ever wanted to have.

That doesn't stop her from clicking on the link that MC had sent, though.

Down the rabbit hole

The Official NCAO tournament website swallows Geneviève whole, and spits her out a completely changed person.

Player profiles, match histories, 'Favorites to win' the Doubles Championships, special features, YouTube video links—Geneviève devours it all.

MC and his/her/their {national_doubles_partner} are featured in the 'Favorites to win' section of the men's/women's/mixed doubles category, which makes her grin, surprised. She'd watched MC move and hit, of course, but she'd never truly realized how good her hall mate is in the context of the college tennis circuit.

Geneviève discovers several videos of MC playing tennis on YouTube, and even finds a grainy middle school doubles match where Sam and MC completely decimate their opponents. Somehow, that video has 870 views—which makes Geneviève wonder who else is watching a bunch of teens play tennis.

Three hours later, Geneviève now knows more about MC's win-loss record than the essay she's supposed to be researching. She's even figured out the bafflingly un-mathematical concept of tennis scoring. The only thing that kind of makes sense is that love is "zero", as if someone as anti-romance as Geneviève had come up with it.

"Merde," she mutters, slamming her laptop shut with more force than strictly necessary. The other students look up, but Geneviève doesn't notice. She's still replaying the videos in her mind, thinking about how MC transforms into a different person on the tennis court. It's undoubtedly a turn-on, but it also makes Geneviève curious about all the other sides to the freshman that she hasn't yet discovered.

Usually, Geneviève prefers keeping people at arm's length—wants only to know bits and pieces of a person at a time, so that there's still a sense of mystery before things go stale.

But with MC, that hasn't happened yet—and Geneviève wants more. Wants to get closer, wants to peel back every layer until she can get to the very core of him/her/them.

That, she thinks, feels like trouble.

Code Red

Over lunch, Geneviève dissects the situation.

She had never before been afflicted by the wide-eyed, head-over-heels, throw-caution-to-the wind type of romance. She remains deeply suspicious of grand gestures and promises of forever, and that hasn't changed. She has always prefers clean boundaries. Lines drawn between mind and body, between the concrete now versus the nebulous future, enjoyment versus commitment. And... she'd never had trouble maintaining those boundaries before.

But with MC, those lines had begun to blur.

Speaking of the devil, Geneviève's phone begins to ring. MC's face lights up the screen.

Geneviève wants to say 'I miss you,' but instead, what comes out of her mouth is, "I figured out how to read tournament draws."

Maybe it means the same thing.

...

The call is everything Geneviève's been longing for all day.

MC describes the tournament atmosphere, the match he/she/they'd just played, and how good the 'Philly cheese-steak' had been. Even through the phone, Geneviève can picture MC's smile. She finds herself asking questions they wouldn't have known to ask, thanks to her newfound tennis knowledge. The pleasant surprise in MC's voice makes her heart flutter. Suddenly, spending the whole morning on 'research' feels like it'd been worth it all along.

"Look what you're doing to me," Geneviève had joked at the very end of the call. The words land closer to the truth than she'd intended.

After hanging up, Geneviève actually makes progress on her essay.

That is…until she finds out that the tournament site has just refreshed with the latest quarter-final results.

"Merde," Geneviève mutters, for the second time that day. She settles back against her chair. "There goes my productivity."

If MC won

Cargill pair advances to semi-finals with spectacular win

Geneviève swells with pride. She continues reading eagerly, grinning in spite of herself.

If MC lost

State University of Southern California advances to semi-finals with spectacular win
Geneviève's stomach drops. MC must be gutted. She bites her lip and continues reading, making a mental note to text him/her/them right after this.

The interview coverage features a whole section of quotes from the players, and Geneviève reads MC's effusive praise for:

• Sam

• MC's doubles partner

with a slight twinge of… well—she's still adamant that it's not… jealousy.

If praise Sam

Still, she can't help but what it would be like to have grown up with MC, or what it would be like to impress MC with her artistry on the court.

Well. That's something she'll never know. Not unless she picks up tennis and gets very good in the next couple of months.

If praise doubles partner

Still, she wonders what it would be like to face down opponents with MC—what it would be like for MC to talk about her with that warm trust and awe.

Well. That's something she'll never know. Not unless she picks up tennis and gets very good in the next couple of months.

...

If Sam romanced

Another paragraph catches Geneviève's eye.

"The partnership between the protagonist and Sam has been one of the most compelling storylines of this tournament. Their on-court chemistry is undeniable, and off the court, their friendship clearly runs deep…"

• "Sam means the world to me" or "One day, we're gonna be on a front cover together, next to the words: 'Tennis power couple.'"

• Other response

"Means the world to me/ Tennis power couple"

MC's response makes Geneviève's throat constrict. What exactly did they mean by that? It certainly sounds like an admission that they are dating. Geneviève frowns, and re-reads the quote, wondering if she had misinterpreted it. Something lost in translation, perhaps? But even after reading it a third time, it still stings.

Geneviève frowns, and takes a slow breath.

If open relationship:

She knows Sam and MC are in an open relationship. She has no issue with that. But sometimes, she wonders if MC would've preferred being in a committed one with Sam if they'd both gone to the same college. Was MC only with her because Sam's not here

Technically, MC's feelings for Sam shouldn't affect how she feels about them. That's supposed to be the point of an open relationship. But why then does her chest feel so tight?

Other response

MC's response neither confirms nor denies anything. But what Geneviève does wonder is what the reporter had seen, to ask that question point-blank like that. Had it just been because they'd been doubles partners in high school?

Geneviève frowns, and takes a slow breath.

She decides there and then that she needs to acknowledge this for what it is: a state of emergency.

'Casual' does not involve spending the morning obsessively learning about a topic that she'd previously had no interest in.

It certainly should not result in one's heart jumping into one's throat whenever a particular someone calls.

Before Geneviève can talk herself out of it, she knocks on Jordan's door.

The Diagnosis

Thankfully, Jordan's the only one in the room—Shan's apparently out playing 'quidditch'.
They're sprawled across their single bed, printed essays scattered around them like academic confetti (and looking more like room decoration than actual materials that Jordan's been reading).

Instead of her usual dry smirk, Geneviève looks almost embarrassed. "Can we uh… can we chat for a bit?"

Jordan waves a hand for her to come in, not at all surprised. "I kinda knew this was coming," they say, gathering up their readings to make space for Geneviève on the bed.

The French exchange student raises an eyebrow. "You did?"

Jordan nods, completely unfazed by her uncharacteristic vulnerability. "It's the first time MC's been gone over the weekend," they say knowingly. "Figured you might or might not be having an existential crisis."

Geneviève lets slip a surprised laugh. "Jordan, I came to talk to you because I wouldn't have to tell an extra person about uh, what you saw in the student lounge that day, between me and MC." The two exchange a wry look. "But now I'm starting to wonder if you're some omniscient being in disguise."

Jordan laughs. "Just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And please just sit down, you're making me antsy too."

Geneviève sits down gingerly at the foot of the bed.

"So… what's wrong?" Jordan asks.

Geneviève sighs, and stares up at the ceiling, as if it might offer some insight into her predicament, before looking back down at Jordan again. "I uh, I spent the past day watching tennis videos on YouTube and trawling through tennis websites."
Jordan snorts. "Oh no."

"Exactly." Geneviève groans. "I know two meanings of 'bagel' now, and before this semester, I didn't even know that word existed." The French exchange student squeezes both eyes shut and blows out a breath. "It's bad, isn't it?"

Jordan smiles, and reaches out to pat her on the shoulder. "I was going to say congratulations, actually." They bite down an even bigger grin from spreading across their face. "You've caught feelings."

Geneviève looks distraught. "I thought I was immune."

Jordan smirks. "You're in a new country. We have different viruses here."

This makes both of them snort.

...

After a while, Jordan sobers up. The freshman tilts a chin at Geneviève curiously. "Why're you so against emotional entanglements, anyway?"

There's a long pause, as Geneviève mulls over her answer. "The more attached you are to something or someone, the harder it becomes to live without them. But you can't control that, really. So… I've just figured the least painful way of dealing with that is to not get attached."

Jordan arches an eyebrow. "Huh. How's that been going?"

"Alright, I guess," Geneviève says. "Until now."

Jordan shrugs thoughtfully. "What happens if you're already attached, though? Do you just sever those ties?"

Geneviève bites her lip, and stares out the window. She'd spent many afternoons looking out of the window of her own room, observing American college life with bemused interest, like a wildlife photographer watching animals in their natural habitat. Now, suddenly, she can no longer deny she's just another part of this ecosystem.

"I don't know," she says finally.

Jordan's expression softens slightly.

The late afternoon sun is beginning to slant into the room, casting long shadows across the hard-wood floor.

Eventually, Jordan says, "It's November, so you've got, what, a little less than 7 months left? That's either enough time to see where this goes, or short enough that it doesn't have to be forever if you don't want it to be."

Geneviève considers this. Seven months. In the context of one's entire life, it's nothing. But in the context of how quickly she'd begun developing this… 'attachment'—seven months felt both impossibly short and terrifyingly long.

"I guess I should just worry about this... if, or when, it's about to break my heart," she decides eventually.

Jordan nods. "Exactly."

Geneviève shoots the freshman a wry look. "You know, you've been so helpful that I'm probably going to keep bugging you about this."

Jordan gives her a small shoulder squeeze, then flashes the older student a sly grin. "So long as you don't make me see anything else I'm not supposed to see..."

Geneviève laughs, lips curling upward into a far more typical grin as she reaches out to punch the freshman in the shoulder. The tension breaks.

...

"For what it's worth," Jordan drawls. "You're a cute couple. Of everyone on this floor, I think you and MC make the most sense."

Geneviève raises an eyebrow. "Not Addie and D?"

Jordan squawks, and begins wheezing.

Soon, the two of them are tossing out ridiculous pairings for the rest of Haynes Hall. "So... does that mean I can tell the rest about you two now?" Jordan asks. "D keeps prodding me about it."

The French exchange student chuckles, feeling a weight lift off her chest. "I don't care." She shrugs. "You'll have to ask MC."

At some point, she's going to have to worry about what happens when her time at Cargill's up. But she'll cross that bridge when she gets there.

For now… she's convinced this isn't an emergency after all.

Not yet, anyway.