Violet [Under Editing]

Chapter 4

To the world, you may mean one person but to one person, you may mean the world - Bill Wilson
Dedicated to Stephanie 💙

Avery's POV

With a black hoodie on, a water bottle hung on my right index finger and a basketball spinning on my left index finger, I walked to Astros field.

My bicycle failed me today after school and I think it needs some serious servicing, hence, the trek.

I pulled up the sleeve of my hoodie just above my wrist to check the time.

4:12.

Ian told me to meet him by 4:00. Still, I don't hasten up my pace. I keep on walking with the same speed regardless of the time I'm clearly wasting.
Maybe he's the one who's coaching, that doesn't mean he's also going to coach my timing.

I freaking do what I want!

Few minutes later, I arrived at the field. Ian was already there, playing and scoring by himself. I was standing behind a green bench, watching him play flawlessly. I hated to admit it, but he's really good.

He took three more shots, and scored from different angles before turning to my direction and noticing me. I immediately turned my head to the side making my hair sprawl on my face, supporting my cover to stop him from thinking I was ogling him.

From my peripheral vision, I saw him catch the ball easily and walk towards me.
When he got to where I was, he leaned on the bench. I could feel his green eyes on my face.

After a while, I turned to face him, his intense eyes looking straight at me.

"Hi violet." He said, not breaking eye contact.

He looked at his watch on his wrist. "You're not exactly on time." His expression was calm but an undercurrent of seriousness was visible.

"I know." I said, glaring at him, before walking around the bench to where he was. I hit the ball down from his hand and caught it after it bounced, in mine.
"Now, can we show each other who's boss?" I said, daring him.

He chuckled, then bit his lower lip. He stepped closer, this time I didn't move back not because I didn't want to but because I couldn't.

My feet literally betrayed me, as I stood there under his gaze.

He was so close, I could feel the heat radiate from his body.

"Is that supposed to be a challenge?" He asked, smiling.

"Yeah." I said and walked away from him to the center of the court. Thankfully, my legs regained their consciousness.

I angled to make a shot, and scored. I looked at his direction where he stood in front of the bench.

"Not bad." He said and walked to me after picking up the basketball. He moved few steps backwards from the centre of the court.

"But can you score from this angle?" He said, made a shot and totally scored.

I picked up the ball, moved farther from his position and scored. He did the same and it went on that way for a couple of minutes.

I'm not sure i'd be able to keep up if we keep doing that backwards stuff.

"Be my guest." I took the ball from his hands and threw it for the basket. It went straight down the net and of course I was grateful.

He nodded approvingly.
"Cool. So why don't we spice it up a bit?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Did he say what I just thought he said. Faith and luck made me score that and he's thinking of spicing it up.

"Cool. So why don't we spice it up a bit?" He repeated his exact same words except this time his expression was challenging.

I didn't want to make him think I was weak, so....

"Sure. Why not?"

He smiled again before taking ten steps backwards, threw the ball from behind and damn scored.

I bit my bottom lip to stop my mouth from dropping open in awe. I hated that he was so good at playing. I hated his face, his eyes, his smile. Sometimes I wish I could slap it off his face for good. I was almost like an enemy of progress.

"Is that all you've got?" I said not wanting to accept pre - defeat. I snatched the ball from the ground and walked to his position, backing the basket. I threw the ball. I didn't need to turn around or need anyone to let me know that I didn't score.

I turned around and saw the ball hitting the ground far from where it's supposed to be if I scored. I was disappointed in myself.

He went to fetch the ball. I was expecting to see a victorious look on his face that he beat me, when he turned around but it wasn't there.

"I think you'd actually score if you study the position of the basket. Assume you're in Calculus class. Consider the angle and force you'd use to score by taking note of the distance between you and the basket. Got it?" He said using his fingers to demonstrate the arithmetic. "Like this."

I looked at him, he turned me around, back to the basket, held my hands up, upper and told me to make the shot. I did it and I scored.

"Woah! How'd that happen?!" When I turned to face him, he was smiling at me like he was impressed.

"Thanks." I said and walked away from him. He made me feel things I didn't want to feel. At all.

We practiced some more, before parting our ways. He suggested walking me home. But I turned it down because I don't want to be around him. He's an enemy. They're all enemies, so I have to keep on reminding myself that the only reason we're meeting is because of the basket ball practice and that's all.

I couldn't help but think about him, and I hated it. I hated that I let him get into my head. I hated that his face was stuck in my brain. I hated him.

Arrgh!!!!

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A/N:

Love y'all