Ximena's POV
The stadium lights blazed bright, transforming the field into a stage where dreams lived and died. The crowd's energy was electric, each roar and cheer creating waves of pure excitement. Tonight felt different. Tonight, Anton commanded the field like he was born for it.
And I wasn't hiding in the shadows anymore.
I wasn't just the quiet twin sister tucked away in the corner of the bleachers, invisible and forgotten. The jersey Glenda had crafted for me clung to my curves, Anton's number sparkling across my chest like armor made of sequins and hope. She'd even convinced me to let her paint Ezekiel's number on my cheek before we arrived, her brush soft against my skin as she worked carefully.
At first, self-doubt had crawled up my spine like ice. But now, surrounded by bodies jumping and voices screaming together, something warm bloomed in my chest. Belonging. It tasted sweeter than I'd imagined.
