Older || 18+

28. Emma

Skylar and I make our way up the creaky bleachers, each step sending a tiny shiver through the metal beneath our feet. It's crowded and loud, the smell of popcorn and hot dogs filling the air.

Down on the field, Alex is in his element, muscles flexing and skin glistening under the warm glow of the afternoon sun. His dark hair, tied back neatly, only adds to the athletic grace with which he moves, juggling the soccer ball like it's an extension of himself. He's the picture of focus and determination, and for a moment, I'm caught up in the scene too.

But then, I catch Skylar, practically drooling over him, and I can't resist a playful jab. "Eyes back here, missy," I whisper, my voice low but teasing as I tap her arm gently.

Her response is a grin, wide and unapologetic, her laughter a melody in the noisy stands. "You know I can't help it," she says, her voice filled with laughter. "He's too damn hot."

"How are things going with the two of you?" I ask, hoping she'll finally spill. There's been a mystery around them, a little bubble of something more than casual, and it's driving me crazy not knowing.

Her smile softens, lighting up her face in a way that tells me everything and nothing all at once. "It's going... really well," she beams, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "We're taking it slow, but yeah, I think things are going well."

I grin, happy for my best friends. On the drive up here, they were flirting and roasting each other, which was adorable. They definitely have something, even if they aren't calling it anything.

"I'm glad," I reply, meaning it.

We settle into our spot just in time to see Alex gearing up, his every move precise, every step deliberate. The intensity in his eyes is a clear sign: this is more than just a game to him.

Then, as the noise around us dims and the teams prepare for kickoff, Alex's gaze sweeps the stands, finally landing on us. His serious expression breaks into a boyish grin, and he sends Skylar a wink and a playful air kiss that has her blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl.

"Oh my god," she laughs, shaking her head, but clearly loving every second of it. "He's such a dork."

I laugh, nudging her with my elbow. "You're a dork."

She grins, her gaze returning to the field.

The game starts, and Alex is a force to be reckoned with. He's fast, powerful, and has excellent control of the ball. He's in his zone, and it's impossible not to be drawn in by the sheer force of his talent.

As the game progresses, Alex's skill on the field captivates everyone, including us. Every maneuver, every strategic play, he's always two steps ahead.

The crowd is electric, their cheers fueling the players, but none more so than Alex. He commands the field, a blur of energy and precision that's mesmerizing to watch.

During a brief lull in the game, Skylar leans closer, her voice a whisper of pure admiration. "He's amazing out there, isn't he?" she whispers, her eyes shining with admiration.

I can't help but agree. "Yeah, he's owning the field. You picked a good one," I tease, bumping her shoulder lightly.

She laughs, then her expression softens into something more tender. "He makes me happy," she admits quietly, a rare vulnerability in her voice. "I haven't felt this way about someone in a long time."

I feel a warmth spread through me at her words. "I can tell. You both seem really good for each other."

The game snaps back into focus, sweeping us up in its tide. Alex, with the grace of a panther, intercepts the ball, weaving through the opposition with a dancer's finesse. The goal looms ahead, and with a heartbeat's pause and a decisive kick, the ball arcs beautifully into the net. The stadium erupts, a tidal wave of cheers and applause.