Fight To Love You Freen&Becky

I'm gonna destroy you

Oh no, breathe, Becky, breathe. Slower, too many people—too many people! Stop screaming in your head. They're here for the game. You've done this before. Breathe, calm down, stay confident. Just like that—walk like you own this place.

Despite my racing thoughts, I was striding ahead of my team with as much cold confidence as I could muster. My heart felt like it was boiling in a kettle, my knees trembling like autumn leaves. Yet, I walked as though I'd never heard the word "anxiety" in my life.

"BOOooooooo!"

Perfect. Just what I needed—booing. Of course, we're at their home court.

We made it to our side of the court, and I focused hard on the game, trying to ignore the distracting tension. But something was off. That girl—why is she so strikingly beautiful? I tried to shake it off.

"Hey, what are you staring at?" Her voice snapped me out of my daze. Had I been staring too intensely? I must have looked like a creep.

"I wasn't—" I fumbled, desperately trying to avert my gaze. Her eyes, though, were captivating in a way that unsettled me.

"Do you think you're going to win this game? Under my roof? I don't care if it's just a friendly match. We're going to destroy you so badly that you'll never walk or look the same again," she taunted.

Who does she think she is?

I was so furious that I was ready to kick that cute face of hers. But just as I was about to confront her, the teacher grabbed my arm and yanked me away, dragging me to the other end of the court.

"She's trying to provoke you," the teacher said sternly. "Don't let her drag you into her game. Focus on playing this one."

I glanced back at the girl, still locked in a staring contest with her. How could someone so stunning be so infuriating?

"Go," the teacher urged, giving me a push towards my team. "They're waiting. Give them a pep talk."

"Isn't that supposed to be your job?" I shot back, but he just gave me that infuriatingly calm look. I turned to face my team, the pressure mounting.

"Wait a minute," I said, suddenly realizing. "This isn't even a real game of the championship?"

"No, it's just a warm-up, a chance to meet your potential opponents," he explained. "I didn't want you to relax. You still need to win. Now, stop talking and motivate your team."

After a brief, uninspiring pep talk—I'm no motivational speaker, after all—I turned to find our positions. The girl's gaze was still locked on me, and I wondered why she looked away like that. Whatever. We were here to play, so let's get on with it.

The game began, and I can't even begin to describe the chaos on that volleyball court. I think after the whistle, our opponents became some kind of kung-fu volleyball players. They were more than professional—leaping high, diving low, passing the ball between each other like it was a mere piece of bread. But when the ball crossed the court to our side, it transformed into a bullet, ready to hit and annihilate anyone in its path.

Our team was in total disarray. We were so overwhelmed that, at times, it felt like the ball was a deadly projectile aimed at us. The opposing team played with a ferocity that left us scrambling. We were so scared of getting injured that we instinctively started avoiding the ball, making us look like a bunch of amateurs.

By the end of the first set, it was clear we were completely outmatched. The second set was only slightly better, but we still lost. As a friendly game, it was limited to three sets, and we lost them all—though we managed to close the gap a bit each time. But it was still painfully embarrassing.

As the final whistle blew, I wished the earth would open up and swallow me whole, anything to escape her relentless gaze.

I could feel her eyes boring into me, and I desperately wanted to shout at her, demanding she stop staring. But I wasn't sure I could handle her without resorting to violence.

We quickly changed in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I tried to shut out everything, including the unsettling realisation of what was happening to me. I needed to figure it out later. For now, all I wanted was to get out of there as fast as possible.

"So, you're slow in everything, huh?" she taunted, standing in the doorway with her team behind her, blocking our exit.

"Shut up and leave us alone," Annie snapped, trying to drive them away.

"This is my school," the girl retorted, her tone dripping with arrogance. "Don't tell me what to do."

I stepped in front of Annie, standing toe-to-toe with her. "Leave us alone, or—"

"Or what, little kitty? Are you going to scratch me? Such a scary little kitten," she taunted, her team laughing behind her. Her eyes, though, held something I couldn't quite understand.

Without warning, a sudden wave of frustration and surprise overcame me. I raised my hand and, almost instinctively, slapped the girl across the face. The sharp sound of the slap echoed through the hallway, and I stood there, stunned by my own reaction.

"Gosh, what's wrong with me?" I thought, my heart racing. "She's just bullying you, Becky. Why did you—"

CHAAMP

-HaaaaH...

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