The Champion He Didn't Deserve

Chapter 2

Fate had a funny way of setting things up. My first match was against Rosalind.

I drew a deep breath and tightened my grip on the racket. We exchanged the customary nods at the net. The confidence in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. She had already decided the outcome of this match before it even started.

The umpire signaled for my serve. I swung sharp and fast, sending the ball at her like a vicious strike. She barely had time to react. Rosalind never expected me to bounce back like this. Not the academy's former burnout, the one everyone had written off.

But she was their star player for a reason. She returned it with effortless grace.

The ball flew back and forth in a relentless rhythm. My focus never wavered, not once. Before I knew it, we had reached match point. One more point. That was all I needed.

My serve again. I sent a simple topspin her way, the kind of shot Rosalind could handle blindfolded. But then something caught my eye. She adjusted her position. On purpose. Deliberately.

Then thwack. The ball slammed into her arm.

She stumbled back with a piercing shriek and collapsed onto the court, clutching her elbow like she had been shot. The performance was almost impressive.

Wyatt came barreling down from the stands. He made a straight line for her, dropping to his knees at her side. He cradled her face in his hands and traced his fingers over the angry welt on her skin. His concern was on full display for everyone to see.

"Are you hurt?" he murmured, loud enough for the whole stadium to hear. He was flaunting his worry like some tragic hero in a bad movie.

Then he wheeled on me. His eyes burned with accusation.

"Did you really have to go this far to win?" His voice carried. "Clover Hill, I never thought you would sink this low."

His words weren't just criticism. They were a public condemnation, delivered for everyone to witness.

My stomach dropped. Since when could anyone control every twist in a match? And she had moved first. She had stepped into it on purpose.

But the real knife to the gut came from somewhere else. My own boyfriend had just thrown me under the bus without hesitation. In front of everyone.

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but nothing came out. No words. No explanation. Just silence.

Meanwhile, Rosalind fluttered her lashes up at Wyatt. Her eyes glistened with crocodile tears.

"It's okay," she whispered, voice trembling. "I know Clover didn't mean it."

Wyatt's expression melted into something soft and admiring. Then he snapped his attention back to me.

"Rosalind is letting it go," he said. "Why can't you?"

Apologize. He wanted me to apologize for her stunt.

White hot fury burned through my chest. The umpire tried to play peacemaker, but his half hearted mediation only pressured me to cave. Around us, the whispers swelled into a venomous chorus. Everyone was eager to paint me as the villain.

"So much for being a national team reserve," someone muttered nearby. "She has been losing match after match lately. Can't even compete with Rosalind, and Rosalind joined after her."

Another voice joined in. "She saw her defeat coming and took her frustration out on the opponent's arm. Probably trying to eliminate the competition to keep her ranking."

Wyatt heard every single cruel comment. He didn't lift a finger to defend his own girlfriend. Instead, he used the crowd's judgment as a weapon. He stood there waiting for me to beg for forgiveness.

I gritted my teeth and tightened my grip on my racket. I forced my voice steady.

"Accidents happen in matches," I said. "Let me take you to check that arm."

My calm response clearly threw Wyatt off. He had expected tears and submission. He had expected me to fall apart.

Rosalind seized the moment with fake sympathy.

"It's nothing, really," she said. "Wyatt is just being overprotective."

The crowd ate it up. They praised her generosity and her gracious spirit.

I was done with this act. If they didn't need me here, I wouldn't stick around.

I turned to leave. As I walked away, I caught Wyatt's stunned expression out of the corner of my eye. It only lasted a second before Rosalind's dramatic whimper of pain stole his attention right back.

But this wasn't the end of my fight. The toughest challenge still lay ahead.