Four Of A Kind-Chapter 162: [3.64] Standard Scoring

Her voice cracked on the last word.

Shit.

She turned away fast but Isaiah had already seen.

"You’re not stupid."

The words landed like a slap she hadn’t expected.

"You don’t know that." She kept her back to him.

"Yeah. I do."

Something about the certainty in his voice made her snap. She whirled back around. Her ponytail whipped across her shoulder as she turned on him.

"How? Because I can memorize French Revolution dates? Because I colored some equations with markers like a kindergartener?" Her voice climbed higher. Each word came out sharper than the last. "That doesn’t make me smart, Isaiah. That makes me a trained monkey! I’m just performing tricks you taught me!"

She gestured wildly at the physics textbook still sitting on the bench. Her chest heaved. Her eyes stung again but she blinked it back hard.

"You want to know how I know?"

His voice stayed level. That same infuriating calm that made her want to shake him until something broke.

"No."

"Too bad." He crossed his arms. "Stupid people don’t spend three hours doing practice problems when they could be doing literally anything else. Stupid people don’t recognize their own mistakes before I point them out. Stupid people don’t ask questions that make me rethink how to explain concepts."

"That’s—"

"Stupid people quit. You haven’t quit yet."

The tennis court went very quiet.

Cassidy could hear birds in the maple trees. A car passing beyond the gates. Her own breathing.

"I’m going to."

"No you’re not."

"You don’t know that."

"Yeah." His mouth curved slightly. "I do."

She wanted to hit him. Wanted to scream. Wanted to grab his stupid face and—

Her phone buzzed in her shorts pocket.

She pulled it out. Harlow’s name flashed across the screen with approximately seventeen heart emojis.

cass please answer! Miss Tanaka says ur in the tennis courts and isaiah went to find u and im worried!!! did something happen??? do u want me to come down there?? i made cookies!!!

Cassidy typed back quickly.

im fine. dont come down here. im just practicing.

Another message came immediately.

are u SURE??

Another buzz. This time from Vivienne.

Cassidy. Harlow mentioned you left early. Do you need to discuss the test results? I have time at 6:00.

Translation: Time to analyze your failure in excruciating detail.

Cassidy showed Isaiah the screen. "She wants a post-mortem."

"So don’t go."

"She’s Vivienne. She’ll find me."

"Then tell her you’re busy."

"With what?"

"Tennis." He gestured at the court. "We’re in the middle of a match."

"That wasn’t a match. That was me humiliating you."

"Then keep humiliating me." He walked back to the baseline. "I can take it."

Cassidy stared at him.

At his stupid confident stance and his stupid bare arms and his stupid refusal to leave when anyone else would’ve run.

She should’ve told him to go.

Should’ve gone inside and faced Vivienne and accepted whatever lecture was coming.

Should’ve done a lot of things.

Instead she grabbed another ball.

"Best of three sets. Standard scoring."

"I don’t know standard scoring."

"Then you’ll lose faster." She smiled. Sharp. "First to six games wins the set. Have to win by two. Deuce rules apply."

"What’s deuce?"

"You’ll find out." She bounced on her toes. "Ready?"

"No."

"Good."

She served.

This time Isaiah was ready. He moved his feet, got his racket back, actually swung properly.

The ball went wide but it was closer.

"Better."

"Still terrible," he called back.

"Yeah but less terrible. That’s progress."

They played. Isaiah got progressively less awful. His returns started landing in the court. His footwork improved. He even managed to hit one shot that made Cassidy actually work for it.

When he won his first point, purely from Cassidy hitting into the net, he raised his arms like he’d won Wimbledon.

"Don’t celebrate that," Cassidy yelled. "I literally gave that to you."

"I’ll take it."

By the end of the first game, Cassidy had won six-love but Isaiah had managed to return at least half her shots.

During the changeover, they met at the net to hydrate.

Isaiah grabbed his water bottle from the bench. Drank half of it in one go.

Cassidy tried very hard not to watch his throat move.

Failed completely.

"You’re better than I expected," she admitted.

"That’s because your expectations were on the floor."

"Fair."

He wiped sweat from his forehead. "You’re really good at this."

"Tennis?"

"Yeah."

"I know." She shrugged. "It’s the only thing I don’t suck at."

"That’s not true."

"Name one other thing."

"Making me want to throw myself in traffic."

Cassidy’s laugh surprised her. "That’s not a skill. That’s just my personality."

"Exactly."

They looked at each other across the net.

Something in his expression had changed. Softened.

Cassidy’s pulse kicked up for reasons that had nothing to do with tennis.

"We should keep playing," she said quickly.

"Yeah."

But neither of them moved.

The sun had started setting, painting everything orange and gold. The court glowed. Isaiah’s dark hair caught the light and looked almost copper at the edges.

Her phone buzzed again but Cassidy ignored it.

"Isaiah."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For coming out here."

His eyebrows rose slightly. "You’re thanking me?"

"Don’t make it weird. And don’t tell anyone I said that or I’ll break your kneecaps."

"There’s the Cassidy I know."

She threw her water bottle at him.

He caught it one-handed, grinning now.

That stupid, rare, genuine smile that made him look completely different.

Cassidy’s stomach flipped.

Stop it. He’s the help. This is professional. You’re just stressed.

But her brain wasn’t listening.

Her brain was cataloging the way his shoulders moved when he served. The concentration on his face when he tried to return her shots. The fact that he’d come looking for her when he could’ve just texted.

The fact that he’d stayed.

"Let’s finish the set," she said.

They played until the light got too dim to see the ball properly. Cassidy won six-one but Isaiah’s one game victory had been legitimate. He’d fought for every point.

By the end, they were both breathing hard.

Cassidy walked to the net. Held out her hand. "Good match."

Isaiah took it. His palm was warm and rough. "I got destroyed."

"Yeah but you didn’t quit."

"Learned from the best."

Their hands stayed locked together longer than necessary.

Cassidy should’ve let go.

Didn’t.

"The test doesn’t matter," Isaiah said quietly.

"It matters to your contract."

"Then we’ll figure something out."

"Like what?"

"I don’t know yet." His thumb brushed across her knuckles. Once. "But we will."

Cassidy looked down at their joined hands.

At the dirt under her nails and the calluses on his palm.

At the way his grip felt steady when everything else was falling apart.

She pulled away. "I need to shower. I’m gross."

"You’re fine."

"I smell like a gym."

"I’ve smelled worse."

"Wow. Romantic." The word slipped out before she could stop it.

Isaiah’s ears went red.

Cassidy’s face matched.

They stood there in increasingly awkward silence while the sky turned purple above them.

"I should go," Isaiah said finally.

"Yeah."

But he didn’t move.

Neither did she.

A breeze moved between them, cooling the sweat on her skin.

Cassidy became hyperaware of how close they were standing. How his eyes tracked her face like he was memorizing something. How her heart was doing that stupid fast thing again.

"Cassidy—"

"Don’t." She stepped back. "Whatever you’re gonna say, don’t."

"I was just—"

"I know what you were gonna say. Thanks for trying or you did your best or some other bullshit that doesn’t change the fact that I failed." Her voice came out harsher than intended. "So just save it."

Isaiah’s jaw tightened. "That’s not what I was going to say."

"Then what?"

"That you’re one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. And that’s a compliment."

Cassidy blinked.

"You work harder than anyone in that school. Including Vivienne. Including Sabrina. You just work on different things." He picked up his discarded shirt from the bench. "So yeah. You failed a test. Okay. We adjust. We keep going."

"Why do you care so much?"

The question hung between them.

Isaiah pulled his shirt on slowly. Buttoned it with fingers that moved too carefully. "Because someone should."

Then he walked off the court before Cassidy could respond.

She stood there holding her racket.

Watching him disappear around the corner of the manor.

Her phone buzzed.

A message from Isaiah.

same time tomorrow. bring your textbook and your attitude. we’re not done.

Cassidy stared at the screen.

At the casual command. The assumption she’d show up.

The way he’d typed "we’re" instead of "I’m."

Like they were in this together.

Her face got hot again.

She typed back quickly.

dont tell me what to do scholarship boy

His response came immediately.

or what? you’ll make me wear rabbit ears?

I HATE YOU

liar

Cassidy threw her phone into her bag.

Grabbed the ball basket.

Walked toward the house with her heart still doing that stupid fast thing and her face still burning.

Behind her, the tennis court sat empty in the fading light.

But somehow it felt less lonely than before.