Against the Odds

Chapter 4

Noah

I had to admit it—seeing Ellie tossed into the pool was a pretty wonderful goddamn moment. Okay, so maybe it was sort of a dick thing to do, but she had asked for it. Or so at least I told myself while peeking over the rim of my drink and taking in the chaos before me like a photographer finding a once-in-a-lifetime shot.

Ellie and I had history, not the good kind. Now, our feud was practically legendary: that epic saga of misunderstandings, petty arguments, and a few all-out battles. The summer before I transferred to Ellie's high school, our two teams—mine from my old school and Ellie's from hers—faced off in a high-stakes charity game. I was in my element, mesmerizing them all with my dribbling and shooting. You could feel the game pounding inside of me; I was good and ready to put on a show. That was when Ellie emerged as some star player for her team—like, she's not even that great, for goodness' sake. From the word go, though, it was pretty evident we were arch-nemesis level.

With only minutes left in the game and our teams tied, I went for the win with a shot that was blocked by that bitch. Then she dropped the winning basket as the buzzer rang. Her expression, proud and almost smug, was kind of burned into memory. That look, that moment of victory, turned out to be the turnabout. It wasn't just a loss; it was humiliation. From that day onwards, I had to ensure I proved myself better than her, being ahead of her in all aspects.

That fall, returning to school, I was a different kid—new guy with a chip on my shoulder, and Ellie had become an embodied reminder of my defeat. Now, every interaction with Ellie—in the hallway or during school activities—seemed charged with tension. We were at each other's throats all the time, this clash of two big personalities and inflated egos. Ellie had no issue with a little competition, but then she did something to make it personal. Every time we crossed paths, it was her way of reminding me about that game, the moment I came up short.

Our feud came to a head one afternoon during a regional championship game. We were pitted against one another, with a lot riding on the outcome. I was running on fumes and would not give Ellie the satisfaction of winning again. At every turn Ellie made, I surged with anger and determination.

The more the game was pressed to an end, the more controversial a play I made—clearly at this point, fueled by frustration and desperation. I was called for a technical foul, a move that drastically swung Ellie's favor. Capitalizing on this, her team nearly assured me of suffering defeat once again. Ellie's taunting smile, gloating—just about more than I could stand.

Tensions boiled over after the game. Harsh words were exchanged in the locker room, the kind that cut deeper than any loss ever could. Ellie accused me of playing dirty, and I shot back with personal attacks. Raw emotion—a release of all that resentment built up through the months.
The Party Incident

Fast forward to last night. I'd seen Ellie on the dance floor, dancing like she actually cared about having a good time. That was weird, seeing her that way—carefree and, if I dare say it, almost happy. Of course, I couldn't turn down the opportunity to fuck with her a little, just to remind her that I was still in the picture. When I pushed her into the pool, it was not quite being a jerk—instead, keeping our competitiveness running, that feeling in me that once again put me on top of things. She did look incensed, but I liked to think that, in a way, she was secretly impressed by my cheek. Maybe deep down, she respected the fact that I wasn't afraid to challenge her. Of course, Ellie took it way too personally. She's got this way of blowing things out of proportion, turning a harmless little prank into a full-blown vendetta. I figured she'd be pissed off for a while, plot some payback maybe. But I didn't think she'd actually lose sleep over it.

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What do you guys think about Noah?