𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬

18

The game kicks off with the ref tossing the ball high into the air. Teddy and Jaxsy, standing on opposing sides, are locked in intense focus. Teddy snatches possession from Jaxsy and skillfully dribbles the ball down the court, the crowd's roar growing louder with every step. He halts, scanning the court, and then expertly passes the ball to Quinn, who leaps and dunks it into the basket with a powerful slam. The entire UNC side erupts in wild cheers, the stands shaking with their excitement. Jaxsy, unable to hide his grin, shakes his head and gives Quinn a playful shove. It's clear from their interactions that they're genuinely happy to see each other, despite the competitive spirit of the game.

As the game goes on, I can say without a doubt that my outfit hasn't distracted Teddy at all. He's completely locked in, his focus unbroken. Every move he makes on the court is precise and powerful. The crowd's energy only seems to fuel him more. Teddy's determination is palpable, and it's clear that nothing is going to break his concentration tonight.

As the game goes on, I catch a glimpse down the stands out of the corner of my eye. Lena is there, cheering obnoxiously with her group and, of course, Kimberly and Summer. They look bored out of their minds, clearly not having any fun. Lena, on the other hand, is wearing Teddy's number plastered on a tight cropped shirt, and it's making me feel a pang of jealousy. I shouldn't be feeling this way; I'm here to make things horrible for him, not fan-girling over him. Disgusted with myself, I tear my gaze away from them, trying to refocus on my original plan.

The game goes to half-time as Teddy and his team jog back to the locker rooms, their faces glistening with sweat but still wearing determined expressions. The score is 50-37, with UNC winning. Teddy's infectious smile lights up his face, and his dimple pops out, adding to his charm as he high-fives his teammates. The energy in the stadium buzzes around him. Dixi says, "I'm hungry!" so we hurry out of the stands, grabbing popcorn and using the restrooms before the game unpauses. The stands start to fill up again, people eagerly refilling their seats, the anticipation for the second half palpable in the air.

The game starts again as both teams rejoin the court, taking their positions. The tension is palpable. Soon enough, Jaxsy dribbles the ball with fierce determination, his eyes locked on the hoop. He passes it to Trixy, who swiftly returns it to him. With a powerful leap, Jaxsy slams the ball through the hoop, but the momentum causes him to crash to the floor. The Duke side goes crazy, the noise deafening. Teddy rushes over, helping Jaxsy to his feet and patting his back, a look of concern mixed with admiration on his face. It's great to see Jaxsy and Trixy again.

The game is soon to end, the score nail-bitingly close at 95-94 with UNC barely holding the lead. One of the Duke players, eyes blazing with determination, dribbles towards the hoop and shoots. But Teddy, with an almost superhuman leap, blocks it. The crowd erupts into a deafening roar. Teddy then fakes out Trixy with a swift, deceptive move and makes a beeline for the hoop. My heart pounds in my chest, and time seems to slow down. Every second stretches as Teddy soars through the air and dunks the ball with a resounding slam. The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game. The entire stadium explodes with cheers, everyone jumping out of their seats. Teddy turns his head to look at me, his gaze intense and burning with raw emotion. There's no hint of happiness, only a fierce determination and an unspoken connection that makes the moment even more euphoric.

As the team heads back into the locker rooms, celebrating the big win, there's a mix of excitement and frustration in the air. But for some, it doesn't feel as monumental. Alina's presence was a constant distraction, making it hard to focus. The burning desire to impress her and give it everything was all-consuming, yet there's a nagging feeling of disappointment, a sense that the effort didn't quite measure up. The victory feels hollow, overshadowed by the weight of unfulfilled expectations.

I'm seriously fuming about her being there after all the hell I've been through. Getting chewed out by my coach for landing that punch on Liam's face was bad enough, and then there was that stupid video. It's like everything was piling up, and Alina's presence was just the final straw. I wanted to impress her so badly, but now all I feel is this burning anger and frustration. It's like she overshadowed everything, and I can't shake off this feeling of disappointment and rage.

After the beach, all I could think about was her. Her sea salty wavy long brunette hair, the way it moved with the breeze, and those smile lines when she smiled, making her look so effortlessly beautiful. Her sun-kissed skin glowed under the sun, and her figure was just mesmerizing. It's overwhelming how much she's stuck in my head, like every detail about her is etched into my memory. Her presence is so intense that it's almost like I can still feel the warmth of her skin and see the sparkle in her eyes.

Taking me out of my trance is Kenny and the rest of the team as I sit on the bench beside my locker.

"You should be proud of yourself, man. You did great," he says.

I nod as the excitement in the locker room slowly dies down. The other guys start to wind down, chatting amongst themselves and eventually heading off to take their showers.

I pull out my phone and see a text from my dad reading, "Proud of you, son. Keep up the good work."

If he was so proud of me, why doesn't he show up to my games? Same for Mom.

I scoff, sending him a thumbs up before heading off to the showers.

᯾

As we all walk, I spot Damian chatting it up with some curly-headed chick. I approach him since he drove us here.

Alina and Bitchy Dixi, along with another girl, stand nearby chatting. When they notice me, Alina blushes and looks down. Cute.

Dixi gives me a once-over and scoffs. The other friend seems a bit dazed, just hanging around.

I want to talk to Alina, so I swiftly pull her away to a nearby meeting room we have in the stadium.

My heart races, but I keep my cool, determined to finally have this conversation.

As we step into the room, the noise of the crowd fades, leaving just the two of us in a quiet, intimate space. I take a deep breath, ready to say what's been on my mind.

"Why the fuck did you show up to my game?" I say, my anger rising like a tidal wave, my voice echoing in the small room.

"Who says I was here for you?" she spits back, her eyes narrowing, her posture defiant.

"You know exactly what you're doing in that little outfit," I say, my gaze trailing down her body. "You look like a whore."

Her eyes, those doe eyes that usually sparkle with life, now glisten with the threat of tears. She steps closer, her hand trembling slightly before she slaps me across the face with a sharp crack. The sting is immediate, and I feel the heat rise on my cheek.

"Fuck you," she mutters, her voice cracking with emotion. She turns on her heel and leaves, slamming the door behind her, the sound reverberating through the empty room.