The hallway erupted before the first bell — shouts, footsteps pounding, lockers clanging shut. Rey had barely stepped inside when a kid in a varsity jacket almost barreled straight into him.
"Whoa, my bad!" the guy said, laughing as he kept running.
Michael appeared a second later, weaving through the chaos with his backpack half unzipped. "Game day energy, man. Whole school's wired."
It was the annual intramural sports day — track, basketball, volleyball, even a tug-of-war event for bragging rights. Half the students were in gym gear already, the rest buzzing about who would crush who.
Carlos jogged up, tossing Rey an apple. "Breakfast," he said. "You're welcome."
Rey caught it without breaking stride. "Thought you were playing basketball today?"
"Yeah," Carlos said, smirking. "And winning. You playing?"
"Not officially."
Michael grinned. "Translation: if the basketball team loses, he's subbing in to save them."
---
Out on the school field, the air was thick with sound — whistles blowing, sneakers squeaking on the asphalt court, the rhythmic slap of volleyballs in the gym. The bleachers were packed with students cheering, laughing, and waving handmade signs.
Rey found himself drifting toward the track where Aaliyah's team was warming up. She spotted him immediately and jogged over, her ponytail swaying.
"You here to cheer me on?" she asked, half teasing.
"Depends," Rey said. "You planning to win?"
"Always." Her smile was quick and confident. "Stay till my race. You'll see."
Michael elbowed Rey as soon as she left. "You're done for, man. Hook, line, and sinker."
---
They hung around the basketball court for the first game. The school's senior team went up against a mix of juniors and teachers, the match turning into a mix of skill and comedy. Carlos managed to land two clean shots before tripping over a teacher's foot and nearly flattening the scoreboard table.
The crowd roared with laughter.
"You good?" Rey called.
Carlos grinned from the floor. "I meant to do that."
---
Later, on the track, the 400-meter race lined up. Aaliyah stepped into position, the sun catching the edges of her track spikes. The whistle blew and she was off — fast, smooth, eating up distance with each stride.
Rey found himself leaning forward unconsciously as she rounded the final bend. She crossed the finish line first, barely winded.
She jogged over to him, cheeks flushed. "Told you."
"Yeah, yeah," Rey said with a faint grin. "Guess I owe you a dance at the Bash."
---
As the afternoon wore on, Rey noticed something. Between games and races, a boy he'd seen before — the same one from the courtyard days ago — was lingering near the edge of the crowd. Not watching the events. Watching people. Watching him.
Every time Rey glanced over, the boy looked away.
By the time the tug-of-war finale began, the boy was gone.
---
The day ended in loud victory chants, high-fives, and promises to do it all again next year. But as Rey walked toward the gates with Michael and Carlos, the sound of the cheering behind them faded.
And for a moment, he could have sworn he heard slow, deliberate footsteps matching his own.