One Temptation

His Jersey? (Chapter 42)

The cafeteria was buzzing like it usually did around this time, filled with the typical chaos of students piling in for lunch.

Our table was packed with everyone:

Lia and Cole were sitting way too close, to be considered appropriate for school, Em and Jake were arguing about something I wasn't paying attention to, and I was zoned out like usual.

I just sat there, picking at my sandwich, trying to ignore how drained I was from this week.

It was exhausting.

People I didn't even know acted like we'd been friends forever, and others—well, I could tell by the dirty looks I'd been getting from Zora's friends that they wished I'd disappear.

It had only been a week, but everything had changed.

People in the halls parted for me like I was some kind of celebrity. Girls I'd never even spoken to started chatting me up like we were best friends.

All because of West. He'd said the attention would die down in a week, but he was wrong.

Yesterday at lunch, someone I barely knew sat next to me, trying to strike up a conversation about West's last game.

I tuned it out, forcing a polite smile, but inside, I was tired.

I considered, more than once, that ditching West might take some of the heat off me, but I never actually said it out loud. The thought always left a bad taste in my mouth.

I'd see him, smirking like none of this bothered him, and I knew I wasn't going anywhere.

Because the guy loved dragging me everywhere he went.

And as much as I wanted to hate it, I couldn't, because it put a smile on my face every time.

Suddenly, the entire cafeteria exploded with cheers and screams, pulling me from my thoughts.

I didn't need to look to know who just walked in. West. He'd probably brought the whole footie team with him by the sound of it.

My eyes shifted toward the entrance as he made his way in, surrounded by his team mates, all in their jerseys, looking like they owned the place.

And well, they kinda did.

West, leading the crowd in his number 11 jersey, looked...hot, like always, not that I'd ever say that out loud.

But it wasn't just his looks—it was the way he carried himself, with confidence. It was even hotter.

People were cheering his name, and I could see half the cafeteria tagging him in their posts on the MVH gossip page.

Number 11 was trending again. Typical.

They announced the semi-finals were happening this Friday at the stadium, and the entire school seemed to erupt even louder, hyped for the game.

I glanced at the MVH page on my phone—people were losing it, tagging their favourite players, mostly West. Screenshots of his jersey and the over hype that was not needed.

He finally made his way over to our table, plopping down right next to me, looking entirely too smug, surrounded by a bunch of people trying to get his attention.

Some of them I didn't even recognize, but they all wanted a piece of him. Even with all the chaos, though, he still had that annoying ability to zero in on me.

"So, who's coming to the game Friday?" West asked, leaning back in his seat, his arm casually draped behind me.

Everyone answered instantly, practically yelling, "Obviously, we're all going!"