POV: Zion
There was a certain peace in pressure.
Zion felt it that morning — not like a storm hanging over him, but a low, humming tension in his chest. A need. The kind that had nothing to do with survival and everything to do with dominance.
He wasn't trying to get better.
He was trying to win.
The week leading up to the half-term tests was usually when everyone started to panic. Zion never did. He was the kind of student who could sleep through a lecture and still ace the test. Straight A's came to him the way charm came to Mikey — effortlessly.
But this time was different.
He wasn't just showing up.
He was preparing.
Library – Monday Afternoon
Stacks of notes. Three textbooks open. A blue pen twirling between his fingers like a blade.
Across from him, Nyra sat in silence, pretending to work, but stealing glances when she thought he wasn't looking.
"Didn't expect to see you here," she finally said.
"I live here now," Zion muttered, eyes still on his notes.
"You're already top three in the year. What are you trying to prove?"
He didn't answer right away.
That I'm better than Kevin. That I'm worth more than just a look from Mabelle. That I don't need to be second place in anything.
Instead, he just shrugged. "Trying something new."
Basketball Court – Tuesday Evening
The sound of sneakers on polished wood. The sharp echo of a ball hitting the floor. Zion wiped sweat from his brow, jaw clenched as he watched Kevin make another clean three-pointer.
Their eyes met.
It wasn't spoken, but it was clear.
Game on.
When Zion took the ball next, his movements were sharp, precise, ferocious. No more lazy grace. No more show-off passes. Just speed and control. He didn't stop after one round. Or two.
By the time he finished, his jersey clung to his back and half the team was watching in silence.
"You good?" Mikey asked, stepping beside him.
"Getting there," Zion replied.
He wasn't just playing anymore.
He was hunting.
Mid-Term Test Week – Thursday
Zion sat in the exam hall, arms folded, watching as Kevin walked in, cool and composed. Their desks were four rows apart.
The test papers hit the table.
It was one of the toughest Physics sets Goldridge had given in the past two years.
Zion smiled.
And wrote.
Later That Day – Soccer Field
Coach raised a brow as Zion sprinted across the pitch, weaving through defenders like they were statues. "I thought you didn't care about captain picks this term."
Zion didn't respond.
He just shot the ball — top corner, perfect angle.
Even Kevin nodded from the sideline.
It wasn't just about skill anymore.
It was intent.
Dorm Room – Midnight
Zion sat on his bed, flipping through his notes again. The room was quiet, save for the distant sound of Kevin's voice on the phone next door.
He tried not to listen.
Tried.
"You think he's trying to impress her?" Kevin said, voice muffled but cold.
A pause.
"...He's wasting his time."
Zion closed his textbook.
And smiled.
Friday – Tennis Practice
Normally, he'd skip Fridays. It was the end of the week. He'd give just enough to not get benched.
This time?
He didn't miss a single serve. His footwork was sharp. Every backhand had purpose.
Nyra watched from the benches. So did Isla. Even Celeste raised an eyebrow.
Mabelle, however, wasn't there.
Zion didn't let it faze him.
Because she'd hear about it either way.
And when the results came out — when the numbers spoke — so would he.
Loud and clear.