Chapter Twenty-One
I duck out of the way as the ball whooshes by my head.
“Forty–love!” Iris yells from the other side of the court.
We’re playing tennis. Correction—Iris is playing tennis. I’m playing dodgeball. I rub my hip where her last volley landed, then dance on my toes, adopting the beast-mode stance I’ve seen both Williams sisters take at the height of a match. I’m still trying to perfect the stance when Iris’s serve flies by my head.
“Game, set, match!” she yells, running toward me and leaping over the net in one graceful motion.
What I am in the kitchen, Iris is on the tennis court. The only reason I play with her is for the workout I get chasing down her serves. When she saunters over to me, I’m bent at the waist, gasping for air.
“So what’s up?” she asks, a grin turning
