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"Shit," I muttered under my breath, as I followed Dumbo.
He paraded around with an annoying swagger, as if the entire ten batches hadn't just seen him deliberately take down Laksh. Aakib stood there, his eyes blazing with a fiery intensity, as if he were ready to rip Dumbo apart with just a look.
"You know you can get rusticated for this," Aakib said, his voice dripping with anger as he walked towards us.
"It was a mistake," Evyaan shrugged nonchalantly, his dismissive tone only adding to the escalating tension. The other teammates watched in uneasy silence, sensing the charged atmosphere.
"Aakib, my boy, he was passing it to me. I was right next to Laksh. Not our fault he jumped in the middle, laughing his ass off," I lied smoothly, trying to downplay the incident. "And Dumbo, you might want to spend a bit more time on the court if you want to claim perfection. That was a pretty sloppy shot." I subtly signaled to the other teammates, and they quickly caught on, echoing my defense.
"Right, Evyaan, this was a slight miss," some of them chimed in, but Aakib's intense glare silenced them instantly.
"Evyaan, you are banned from any field—for the next three months," the sports minister declared, his tone unyielding despite our friendship.
Evyaan, however, turned around and flashed a smirk at Laksh.
"Drop the act, Evyaan. This can majorly cause you trouble," our health minister, Armaani, warned.
"You know I wanted to compete, but now I'm stuck with an ugly soul and his ugly bleeding nose," she complained.
"While you're at it, make sure he gets even more hurt," Evyaan added, and sighing she tossed her basketball jersey aside and hurried towards Laksh.
Aakib, having overheard everything, looked even more incensed. "If he files a complaint, I can't back you up," he warned, motioning for everyone to return to the field.
"I'm the vice-prime minister, Aakib. I don't need any backup," Evyaan scoffed, his tone sharp. There was something unnervingly off about him today. The usually composed Evyaan was now aggressively confrontational. Aakib's eyes burned with fury, but Evyaan seemed oblivious, too focused on spotting someone in the crowd. When he finally did, his face lit up with a predatory grin. "Take this," he said, thrusting his basketball jersey into my hands without breaking eye contact.
"He needs to get a grip," Aakib muttered as he snatched the jersey from my grasp.
Maybe he does, or maybe not. I like this version of Evyaan—wild and unbothered.
The competition resumed, and I left the field, not wanting to stir up more trouble.
"Let's go!" Pratyusha urged, grabbing my arm and pulling me along.
The excitement in Pri's eyes distracted me from asking where we were headed.
"Team Regals!" the crowd roared, their cheers rising to a fever pitch. My ears perked up—Evaana was playing for them.
