You and Me Together Is a Match
You and Me Together is a Match
The crowd roared as Devi Ramirez hit a clean, perfect backhand passing shot to secure the break. She couldn’t believe it, she was one game, just one game, away from winning Wimbledon!
She sat in her white seat on the sideline and bounced her knees nervously. The scoreboard felt like it was simply burning into her skin... 6-4, 5-4. The anxiety bouncing around inside her could not get anymore intense...
Or so she thought.
During matches like this, the camera people often filmed certain celebrities who were present at the match and put on the big screen during changeovers, to show the crowd who all came out to the Final. Usually, Devi didn’t look up as she was afraid it would disturb her concentration. Yet, for some reason, today she decided to look up.
A few past players that Devi recognized and respected flashed across the screen. Then, a certain shaggy-haired and familiarly rascally face filled the stadium and filled Devi’s hard-working heart with shock.
The caption read: American Rock Musician: PETE WENTZ
“Time,” said the chair umpire in her British accent. What?! No time! I mean, I need time! What is he doing here?!
It took everything in Devi not to frantically scan the gigantic stadium in search of Pete. He couldn’t be here! Of all the times in the world for him to show up in her life again, he had to pick now? When she was just moments away from perhaps accomplishing the goal she had dedicated her whole life to reaching?
Unable to shake her nerves, Devi double faulted the first point of the game. 0-15.
"Come on, Devi. Put him out of your head for just five minutes. Five minutes and then you can dedicate every ounce of your mind to thoughts about Pete Wentz."
The next three points she won after long, exhausting, confidence-trying points. The intensity of it all buzzed in her ears manically.
“40-15,” announced the chair umpire. “Match point.” This was it. Devi was one swing away from the title. The stadium fell to dead silence.
A toss. A perfect swing. A serve speeding into the far corner of the box. An Ace. And then, an explosion. Screaming, cheering, a standing ovation! In her complete joy, Devi could have almost sworn she heard one melodious voice cheering out above the rest. She dropped to the torn up, worn grass and listened.
“Game, set, match, Ms. Ramirez.”
It was real. Devi had actually just won her first Grand Slam title.
The trophy ceremony, the US National Anthem, the post-match interview... It all was a happy blur. As her mind kept trying to wrap itself around the amazingness of what was going on, her heart kept bringing her down to earth with each beat- each a simple reminder: Pete... Pete... Pete...
The moment she was free to step into the locker room Devi beelined it for her tennis bag to find her iPhone. And of course, when she looked at it she saw that there were four messages flashing the name Pete Wentz.
"I’m here."
"Find me after? I want to talk... please?"
"Call me when you can."
With the last text, Devi was expecting something like a lame attempt at a joke about the ball kids, or even another one of his famous parting lines, followed by a long, tired excuse for why he had to leave her hanging this time- something Devi had gotten quite used to over the years.
But it was none of those things. Just two simple words appeared on her screen:
"You’re Beautiful."
An unexpected lump formed in Devi’s throat. She tried to convince herself it was just the overwhelming emotions of this day. Regardless of how tired she was, regardless of how much she wanted to find her coach and her family and celebrate this historical moment... She needed to take care of this first.
He answered on the first ring.
“You’re a champion!” He exclaimed. “That’s unbelievable, Devi! You-”
“Pete?”
“Yeah?” The nervousness was clear in the way his voice cracked.
“I’m going to be swarmed as soon as I get out of here. If you want to be alone, go to the atrium. I’ll tell security to let you in.”
The atrium, much like Centre Court, was encased with a glass roof. There was a grand fountain in the middle of the spacious lawn that trickled with life. It was getting dark on the English countryside, and moonlight lovingly lit the way towards Pete- who was sitting on the edge of the fountain. When he saw Devi, he sprung to his feet.
“That was so cool! You were like whoa and she was like WHOA! And that last shot of yours? She had no chance! I have no idea how you do it, Devi. Man, if the guys didn’t know any better they would never believe me if I said I slept with a girl who was going to win fucking Wimbledon!”
“Thank you. Really... But you didn’t fly all the way to England to tell me that.”
“Would you believe me if I said I did?”
Devi looked at Pete without amusement, but rather a knowing and expectant raise of the eyebrows. Pete’s smile faltered.
“Right...”
“What are you doing here?” She whispered after a long moment.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out right away. This was the Pete Devi knew- he came all the way to England to find her yet didn’t have a clue what to say.
“The band is on hiatus.”
“Pete...”
“That means I can finally be there, wherever you go! Without tours and recording and everything I can finally be that guy I always should have been for you. No more disappearing without a goodbye. No more running away.”
“Pete, it was never the band making you run away. It was just you. Just us.”
“But it doesn’t have to be like that anymore!” He pleaded, stepping towards Devi and taking both her hands in his. “Just give me a chance.”
“What, were the first five not enough?” Devi said sarcastically as she was starting to let the anger and heartbreak she still felt towards Pete tear through.
“Why do you think I keep coming back, Devi?” He asked. He just about fell to his knees to beg. “I know I’ve hurt you so many times before. Joe and Andy and Patrick keep telling me to let you go. That if I really love you I’ll stop hurting you and let you get on with your life. Everyone is always saying that. If I really wanted you to be happy I’d stay out of your way and stop fucking everything up all the time. But you know what? That’s bullshit. If you love someone you fight for them. You fly across the world to watch them live their dreams. If you love someone you never let them go.”
Devi stared at her dark-haired, tattooed counterpart. She knew this passion- it was what made Pete such a great songwriter and musician. She knew better then to believe he could stand by his word and not fly away again, but something in his intensity told her that this time was truly different.
“Why should I believe you?” She asked anyway. Pete got up off his knees and put both his arms around his love. Devi felt the smooth metal of his lip ring against her lips as he took her in a passionate kiss.
Both breathing heavily now, Pete rested his forehead on Devi’s and whispered. “Because we are meant to be together. You and me together is a match.”
She sat in her white seat on the sideline and bounced her knees nervously. The scoreboard felt like it was simply burning into her skin... 6-4, 5-4. The anxiety bouncing around inside her could not get anymore intense...
Or so she thought.
During matches like this, the camera people often filmed certain celebrities who were present at the match and put on the big screen during changeovers, to show the crowd who all came out to the Final. Usually, Devi didn’t look up as she was afraid it would disturb her concentration. Yet, for some reason, today she decided to look up.
A few past players that Devi recognized and respected flashed across the screen. Then, a certain shaggy-haired and familiarly rascally face filled the stadium and filled Devi’s hard-working heart with shock.
The caption read: American Rock Musician: PETE WENTZ
“Time,” said the chair umpire in her British accent. What?! No time! I mean, I need time! What is he doing here?!
It took everything in Devi not to frantically scan the gigantic stadium in search of Pete. He couldn’t be here! Of all the times in the world for him to show up in her life again, he had to pick now? When she was just moments away from perhaps accomplishing the goal she had dedicated her whole life to reaching?
Unable to shake her nerves, Devi double faulted the first point of the game. 0-15.
"Come on, Devi. Put him out of your head for just five minutes. Five minutes and then you can dedicate every ounce of your mind to thoughts about Pete Wentz."
The next three points she won after long, exhausting, confidence-trying points. The intensity of it all buzzed in her ears manically.
“40-15,” announced the chair umpire. “Match point.” This was it. Devi was one swing away from the title. The stadium fell to dead silence.
A toss. A perfect swing. A serve speeding into the far corner of the box. An Ace. And then, an explosion. Screaming, cheering, a standing ovation! In her complete joy, Devi could have almost sworn she heard one melodious voice cheering out above the rest. She dropped to the torn up, worn grass and listened.
“Game, set, match, Ms. Ramirez.”
It was real. Devi had actually just won her first Grand Slam title.
The trophy ceremony, the US National Anthem, the post-match interview... It all was a happy blur. As her mind kept trying to wrap itself around the amazingness of what was going on, her heart kept bringing her down to earth with each beat- each a simple reminder: Pete... Pete... Pete...
The moment she was free to step into the locker room Devi beelined it for her tennis bag to find her iPhone. And of course, when she looked at it she saw that there were four messages flashing the name Pete Wentz.
"I’m here."
"Find me after? I want to talk... please?"
"Call me when you can."
With the last text, Devi was expecting something like a lame attempt at a joke about the ball kids, or even another one of his famous parting lines, followed by a long, tired excuse for why he had to leave her hanging this time- something Devi had gotten quite used to over the years.
But it was none of those things. Just two simple words appeared on her screen:
"You’re Beautiful."
An unexpected lump formed in Devi’s throat. She tried to convince herself it was just the overwhelming emotions of this day. Regardless of how tired she was, regardless of how much she wanted to find her coach and her family and celebrate this historical moment... She needed to take care of this first.
He answered on the first ring.
“You’re a champion!” He exclaimed. “That’s unbelievable, Devi! You-”
“Pete?”
“Yeah?” The nervousness was clear in the way his voice cracked.
“I’m going to be swarmed as soon as I get out of here. If you want to be alone, go to the atrium. I’ll tell security to let you in.”
The atrium, much like Centre Court, was encased with a glass roof. There was a grand fountain in the middle of the spacious lawn that trickled with life. It was getting dark on the English countryside, and moonlight lovingly lit the way towards Pete- who was sitting on the edge of the fountain. When he saw Devi, he sprung to his feet.
“That was so cool! You were like whoa and she was like WHOA! And that last shot of yours? She had no chance! I have no idea how you do it, Devi. Man, if the guys didn’t know any better they would never believe me if I said I slept with a girl who was going to win fucking Wimbledon!”
“Thank you. Really... But you didn’t fly all the way to England to tell me that.”
“Would you believe me if I said I did?”
Devi looked at Pete without amusement, but rather a knowing and expectant raise of the eyebrows. Pete’s smile faltered.
“Right...”
“What are you doing here?” She whispered after a long moment.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out right away. This was the Pete Devi knew- he came all the way to England to find her yet didn’t have a clue what to say.
“The band is on hiatus.”
“Pete...”
“That means I can finally be there, wherever you go! Without tours and recording and everything I can finally be that guy I always should have been for you. No more disappearing without a goodbye. No more running away.”
“Pete, it was never the band making you run away. It was just you. Just us.”
“But it doesn’t have to be like that anymore!” He pleaded, stepping towards Devi and taking both her hands in his. “Just give me a chance.”
“What, were the first five not enough?” Devi said sarcastically as she was starting to let the anger and heartbreak she still felt towards Pete tear through.
“Why do you think I keep coming back, Devi?” He asked. He just about fell to his knees to beg. “I know I’ve hurt you so many times before. Joe and Andy and Patrick keep telling me to let you go. That if I really love you I’ll stop hurting you and let you get on with your life. Everyone is always saying that. If I really wanted you to be happy I’d stay out of your way and stop fucking everything up all the time. But you know what? That’s bullshit. If you love someone you fight for them. You fly across the world to watch them live their dreams. If you love someone you never let them go.”
Devi stared at her dark-haired, tattooed counterpart. She knew this passion- it was what made Pete such a great songwriter and musician. She knew better then to believe he could stand by his word and not fly away again, but something in his intensity told her that this time was truly different.
“Why should I believe you?” She asked anyway. Pete got up off his knees and put both his arms around his love. Devi felt the smooth metal of his lip ring against her lips as he took her in a passionate kiss.
Both breathing heavily now, Pete rested his forehead on Devi’s and whispered. “Because we are meant to be together. You and me together is a match.”