‘I know I can’t fuck with the braid,’ Monique said, rolling her eyes. ‘Here, use these first.’

Charlie accepted the two sparkly hair ties and stuck them both between her lips. She gathered her dark waves up into a ponytail at mid-height and tied it off. It took only another ten seconds to weave her thick, wild ponytail into a wide braid and freeze the flyaways with some hairspray. ‘There,’ she said, feeling her head and braid to make sure everything was in place. ‘That’s how I like it.’

‘You wear a headband sometimes, right? Or a visor?’

‘I’ll wear a sweatband when it’s really hot out, but only because the front pieces of my hair fall out of the ponytail and stick to my forehead. No visor. No hat. I don’t like the shadows they throw on my face: it screws with my depth perception of the ball. Sometimes reading the spin, too.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Monique muttered. She couldn’t have sounded less interested. ‘Just work with me on this one, okay?’

The two other girls had finished in the locker room and left. Charlie wondered where her opponent was. They would be called to the court in less than five minutes. Was it possible she was already out there?

‘Work with you on what, exactly? I’ll admit, I had my doubts – and I’m still not sure it’s a great idea to play in ninety-degree heat wearing all black – but I do think I look great.’

‘It’s all sweat-wicking and Drymax and all that crap,’ Monique said, rooting around in her giant Goyard tote. ‘Don’t get hung up on the black thing. And you can see for yourself that neither the leather nor the rhinestones will get in your way. It kills me, but I admit this is one of the very few times it’s important to consider function as well as fashion. Come here.’

Charlie had just finished lacing up her sneakers – they were exact replicas of her usual shoes, just entirely in black and dotted with swirling rows of crystals – and she stepped toward Monique.

‘Close your eyes.’

‘No makeup. It’s a total disaster when I sweat and—’

‘No makeup. Now close your eyes.’

Charlie obliged. She felt Monique gently pull something over her head, taking care not to mess up her braid, and then secure it with two bobby pins. ‘Perfect!’

Charlie’s eyes flew open. Monique led her over to the full-length mirror in the dressing area, and Charlie could only stare at herself.

‘I know it’s a little unconventional, but I really think it makes the whole—’

‘I love it,’ Charlie whispered. She reached up to touch the small and impossibly delicate cluster of jewels right above her hairline. The little crown was sparkly yet elegant, and it was held in place by one of Charlie’s stretchy black sweatbands that nearly entirely blended into her hair.

‘Good, you should.’ Monique nodded. She appeared satisfied and perhaps a bit relieved.

Charlie fingered a line of minute purple stones that came together in a small heart shape, right toward the center. ‘Amethysts. My mother’s birthstone,’ she whispered.

‘Yes, your brother clued me in to that. The rest are colored and clear Swarovski crystals, as are all the crystals adorning your sports bra and sneakers. Their people will be thrilled.’

Charlie moved her eyes from her studded sneakers to her shortened, leather-trimmed skirt, checked out her sexily opened-up tank and bedazzled sports bra, and finally came to rest on her little headband crown, which, if she wasn’t seeing it in person, she would have sworn it sounded tacky at best and hideous at worst and thought: Yes. This works.

‘Go!’ Monique said.

Charlie threw her arms around the surprised stylist. Monique hesitated for a moment but then hugged Charlie back. ‘Whoa, okay, so you like it. Great.’

‘I love it.’

‘Excellent. It will only get better when we aren’t so rushed. Kick some ass today, okay?’

Charlie thanked Monique and practically skipped the entire way to the players’ lounge.

Dan was the first to look up from his novel when she walked in. ‘Damn,’ he breathed, allowing his eyes to move from her legs to her head. ‘You look hot.’

He must have instantly felt embarrassed for his brazen assessment, because he mumbled an apology, but Charlie was delighted. ‘You think?’ she asked, doing a little turn. ‘It’s good, right?’

‘It’s better than good,’ Dan said. ‘It’s freaking amazing.’

Todd walked over holding a take-out cup of coffee. He used his free hand to grab Charlie’s upper arm and pull her in a semicircle while he examined her like a cut of meat. ‘Now, that’s what I’m talking about,’ he said. ‘Edge. Some sex appeal. A big, fat middle finger to those pretty little dresses you’re always running around in.’

‘So you like it?’ Charlie asked, although she already knew the answer.

‘Hell, yes, I like it. It says “Fuck me” and “Don’t fuck with me” at the exact same time. What’s not to like?’

‘You have a real way with words, you know that?’ Charlie said, and although she knew she should’ve been offended by his vulgar appraisal, she couldn’t help but relish the praise – especially from Todd.

Charlie looked around to show Jake, but when her match was announced on the overhead speaker, Todd turned and put both hands on her shoulders.

‘Listen to me very carefully,’ he said, his face mere inches from hers. She could smell the coffee on his breath and see the silver fillings in his back teeth. Charlie tried not to cringe. ‘We’ve already talked strategy. You know how to crush this girl. Use this match as a chance to practice being a complete fucking bitch. She’s nothing to you – just a speck of meaningless dirt you’re going to send right back into oblivion after you stomp all over her six-oh, six-oh. Understood?’

Charlie opened her mouth to say something, but Todd held up his hand.

His face came in even closer. ‘You are a goddamn warrior, Charlotte Silver, and warriors win. What they do not do is hug their opponents or ask after their mommies or hope and pray that everyone adores them. Do you understand me?’

‘Yes,’ Charlie said.

‘What are you?’ he asked.

‘A warrior.’

‘And what do warriors do?’