After the one-on-one match, the gym was buzzing with excitement. Students were congratulating Aiden, some laughing at Marco's frustrated expressions, and I couldn't help but feel proud—heart pounding and smile wide.
Aiden jogged over to me, sweat dripping, hair sticking to his forehead. "So… reporter Lia," he teased, "was that a good show for you?"
I laughed, trying to play it cool. "The best. You were incredible. But maybe a little show-off-y?"
He smirked, leaning closer. "Just for you."
My heart skipped. He always knew how to make my chest flutter without even trying. I stuck out my tongue playfully. "Careful, Cruz. Too much teasing, and I might get competitive too."
"Is that a challenge?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe," I said, grinning.
Before we could continue, Marco appeared, smirking as usual. "Still gloating, huh? Don't get too comfortable, Cruz."
Aiden rolled his eyes, but his hand found mine, squeezing gently. "Ignore him," he whispered, eyes soft for me alone. "I only care about you."
I felt my cheeks heat. "I only care about you too," I whispered back.
For a moment, the rivalry, the cheering crowd, the chaos—all of it—disappeared. It was just us, holding hands in the middle of the gym, hearts racing faster than any game clock.
"Race you to the lockers?" Aiden asked suddenly, grinning.
I laughed, shaking my head. "You're on," I said, taking off.
We ran side by side, laughing and bumping into each other playfully. The gym erupted in cheers, but none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was the warmth of his hand in mine and the feeling that, no matter what challenges came next—games, rivals, or high school chaos—we'd face them together.