Where's The Trophy?

If someone had told Shylie she'd fall head over heels for a boy one day, she would've laughed in their face and probably bet a million rupees that they were wrong.

Well, she would've lost that million.

Because somewhere along the way, she found herself falling harder than she ever thought possible for one particular someone.

A boy who spoke more through his cricket bat than his words.

A boy who spent more time at practice nets and training sessions than at cafés and parties.

And, unfortunately, a boy who always seemed to find new ways to get under her brother's skin.

Every. Single. Time.

So she did what any sane sister would do.

She rolled her eyes whenever his name came up.

She complained about him whenever her brother did.

She pretended she couldn't stand him.

Meanwhile, behind her brother's back, she was memorizing his smiles, waiting for his matches, and falling a little more in love with him every day.

The irony wasn't lost on her.

The boy she defended in her heart was the same boy her brother considered his biggest rival.

And she didn't know how much longer she could keep that secret.

Not because she was afraid of getting caught.

But because she was tired of pretending.

Tired of acting like her heart didn't race whenever she saw him.

Tired of hiding feelings that seemed to grow stronger with every passing day.

Still, if there was one thing she knew for sure, it was this:

He was worth every lie she had ever told.