Chapter 53

As Brawley was about to serve the first point of the second set, a guy yelled “Don’t choke, Butt Boy.” He was a red-faced, red-haired ROTC jarhead who seethed with disgust. If he knew what he’d just done.I had to close my eyes and concentrate on cuddling Cameron so I wouldn’t lunge at the guy and break his nose. The chair umpire, silent about the bullying until now, mumbled something vague about interrupting play. What happened to the usual warning that harassment of the players would result in expulsion from the stadium? The umpire’s apparent ambivalence made me feel worse, even if it served my purposes.

Cameron gave the jarhead a long stare, his expression baleful. On the Saffir-Simpson scale of anger, this was now category-five rage. Brawley turned back to the service line, his jaw set. Four aces later, Cameron was up a game. Elliot was so stunned, he never had a chance to get his racket on the ball.