The Underdogs by Sara Hammel Page A

the hot air in there was stagnant and putrid.
    This was bad. At the best of times, Evie’s routine included at least some socializing. Sometimes, in the afternoons, she and I would take a walk around the building, looking for little chameleons behind the club, by the outdoor courts. Occasionally Evie would take time to watch some tennis while pretending she didn’t care about the game. But now she’d started skipping more lunches, and instead of eating a healthy sandwich and salad, she’d head out to the Cumberland Farms mini-market down the road and use the spare change Lucky gave her to buy Ho Hos or Twinkies.
    Evie turned a page crisply and loudly. I was bored. I was worried.
    I took a swipe at her book.
    She gasped as it flew out of her hands and onto the floor with a thud . “What are you doing ?” She had to smile, though, and then she couldn’t help but laugh, and that was a start.
    â€œOkay,” she said. “Fine. I’m being antisocial. You want to talk?”
    Duh. Of course I did.
    â€œAll right. Let me offer you a simile about my life. You probably don’t know what that is, but let me give you an example.” She adjusted her rear end on the hard crate and tightened her ponytail. “If Celia is like a forehand winner,” she said, “then I’m like…”
    She looked off into the distance, and I followed her eyes to a mass of cobwebs up in a corner of the ceiling until it came to her: “I’m like … a defensive lob: slow, round, and desperate.” She looked at me with a satisfied expression.
    I wasn’t amused.
    â€œOkay,” she tried again. “Look, Chelsea. It’s not your fault everyone loves you around here, and that you’ve got Beth, and that my parents are total losers who don’t want me.”
    Whoa. That was not true.
    â€œIt’s a fact, Chelsea. God, how many times has Lucky left me here—totally forgotten about me—since my mom went out west?”
    Okay, that was true. But to be fair, Lucky had been coming here for, like, fifteen years and it had been only a couple years that he’d had a kid to think about. Lucky was a longtime fixture at this place, having started his tennis career here at sixteen. He disappeared after college when he’d gone on the pro circuit and traveled to exotic places to play tournaments. He made it to number one hundred ninety-nine in the world, which is actually quite impressive, contrary to what tennis novices might think of that number. And then he quit. One day he walked through the club’s front door again, and Gene hired him on the spot.
    Evie continued trying to explain her philosophy to me. “It’s not that I expect my parents to change ,” she said. “It’s more that I want different ones entirely. In fact, I want to get out of my life. I want to be someone else so bad , Chelsea. Have you ever felt that way? No, you probably haven’t…”
    I had to admit I hadn’t. It’s weird, but even though I retained clear, terrible memories of what had happened to me when I was younger, I was still okay with being me. As my mom liked to say, It’s your entire story that makes you who you are, not just the happy things.
    â€œI’d love to be anyone but me,” Evie said wistfully, reaching for that last Twinkie. “Anywhere but here.”
    I took that in and realized I’d failed this time. I hung my head and sighed. I wasn’t equipped to talk her down from this one. But we’d get there. I wasn’t giving up on her.

 
    Before
    So Evie and I were secretly following Annabel on the July day when my mom figured out Annabel was in love with a mystery man. Annabel was easy to spot in her hot-pink halter top. After she’d handed Nicholas his lunch of meat sandwiches, Annabel glided toward the women’s locker room. Evie and I picked up the tiniest hint of a hum coming from her, a happy