I'd never been more nervous in my life. I've probably said that already a few times during this story, but it was definitely true again. My leg was bouncing as I tried to control my breathing in the visitor's locker room.
I felt more than saw Mitch sit down next to me. "Cindy, hey."
I looked up at her, her blue eyes focused with competitive fire. "Hey."
"We got this. You and me, together. Right?"
"Yeah." I nodded, probably a little too fast.
"Good. What's on your shirt?"
"Huh?" My brow furrowed, not following. Mitch reached out and touched the embroidered letter on my top, just over my breasts.
"That. What is it?"
"It's the Georgia 'G'."
"That's right. And it's not a joke, and it's not a mistake. You earned it, because you are a damn fine tennis player. And we're going to go out a
