Drake leaned against the lockers with his friends, half listening as they talked over each other about the coming game.
"I'm telling you, this one matters," Ray said, spinning a ball on his finger. "Coach is already stressed."
Khalid nudged Drake with his elbow. "You're unusually quiet for someone who's starting."
Drake shrugged. "Just thinking."
His friends exchanged looks.
"Thinking about the game," Ray said slowly, then smirked, "or thinking about Blue?"
Drake scoffed, but his ears betrayed him. "What about her?"
"You're always hanging around her," Khalid said. "Invite her. You clearly like her."
"And?" Drake asked.
"And having someone cheer you on helps," Ray added. "Especially someone you actually have a crush on ."
Drake laughed, shaking his head. "You guys talk too much."
But later that day, he found himself standing by Blue's desk anyway.
"So," he began, rubbing the back of his neck, "there's a game coming up."
Blue looked up. "Yeah, I know. The teacher said no one should miss it."
"Oh." He blinked, then smiled. "Guess that makes it easier."
She tilted her head. "Why?"
"Well," he said, a little more confident now, "then you can cheer me on."
Blue laughed softly. "I'll try my best. But I'm not the best choice for that."
He shook his head. "No problem. As long as you try."
His smile lingered longer than usual before he stepped back. "See you later."
As he walked away, his steps felt lighter, hope quietly settling in his chest.
Blue watched him go, then returned to her work, the rest of the day flowing on as usual—classes, chatter, bells ringing.
Game day arrived dressed in noise.
The field buzzed with movement, colors clashing, voices piling on top of each other like waves. Blue stood near the edge of the stands, hands tucked into her jacket sleeves, taking it all in. Banners fluttered, shoes scuffed the ground, and somewhere close by, a whistle shrieked as players warmed up.
Her stomach twisted slightly when she recognized the opposing jerseys.
My old school.
She hadn't expected that part to feel so strange.
"Blue?"
She turned and broke into a smile. "Jade?"
Jade laughed and stepped closer, pulling her into a quick hug. "Wow, look at you. It's been forever."
"Not that long," Blue said, grinning. "You still live next door."
"Yeah, but life still happens," Jade replied. "Different schools, different drama."
They leaned against the railing together, eyes following the players jogging across the field.
"So," Jade said, nudging her lightly, "new school treating you okay?"
Blue shrugged. "It's loud. Messy. Kind of fun."
"That doesn't checks out," Jade said. "You always disliked chaos."
Grey wandered over, hands in his pockets, eyebrow raised when he saw them together.
"Oho… you guys already met each other."
Jade snorted. "We didn't forget each other, Grey."
He looked at Blue with mock seriousness.
"Thought you didn't know her. Seems she's always been famous."
Blue rolled her eyes. "That's a stretch."
"Yap," Jade said, nodding dramatically. "She was low-key iconic."
Grey laughed. "Guess I missed the era."
They talked easily after that, bouncing between jokes and how weird it felt seeing familiar faces on opposite sides of the field. Around them, groups gathered, some shouting, some laughing, others just watching like it was a social event disguised as a game.
A few rows down, Ann and her group of four sat together, loud and self-assured, legs crossed like they owned the entire stand. Their laughter cut through the noise, sharp.
Blue noticed them, then looked away.
She didn't want that energy today.
"Elise! Asher!" Grey said suddenly.
Elise waved as she and Asher approached, eyes immediately lighting up when they saw Blue surrounded by a new face.
"Well," Elise said, folding her arms with a grin, "look at you."
Asher chuckled. "Rival school too? You're collecting fans now?"
Blue groaned. "I'm literally just standing here."
"And yet," Elise added, "attention follows."
Jade laughed. "She's always been like that."
Asher leaned closer. "Careful. At this rate, even the referee will recognize you."
"Please stop," Blue said, laughing despite herself.
Before she could reply again, someone grabbed her wrist.
"Come with me," Medina said, already pulling her along.
"Wait—what?" Blue stumbled slightly. "Medina?"
"We're switching sides," Medina said simply. "This is where the cheering actually happens."
They crossed the field edge, weaving through clusters of students until the sound grew louder, sharper. This side pulsed with energy, chants rising and falling like a heartbeat.
Blue froze.
She suddenly felt very visible.
"I don't know what to do," she whispered.
Before Medina could answer, Drake jogged over, hair damp, breath steady. He stopped in front of Blue, smiling like the noise didn't exist.
"You made it," he said.
She nodded. "Yeah. I—"
He pulled off his team T-shirt, already wearing another underneath, and handed it to her.
"Hold this for me."
Her hands closed around the fabric automatically.
He leaned in and patted her head, quick and natural. "Thanks for being here."
Then he turned and ran back toward the field.
Blue stood there, stunned, suddenly aware of eyes drifting her way. Whispers fluttered and faded. She swallowed and clutched the shirt tighter.
Medina smirked. "You're welcome."
"What?" Blue muttered.
The whistle blew.
Cheers exploded from both sides, voices crashing into each other, the game finally beginning. Blue lifted her head, unsure whether it was from the crowd, the moment, or the way the day had shifted into something she hadn't expected.
But as the players moved and the field came alive, she found herself cheering alittle bit anyway.
Medina stayed beside Blue as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Shoulder to shoulder, they watched the game unfold, the crowd rising and falling with every near miss and sudden sprint.
Blue tried to focus on the field. She really did.
But every now and then, her eyes , drifting to the flash of Drake's jersey cutting through the defense.
"Relax," Medina said lightly, nudging her with her elbow. "You're doing fine."
"I'm not doing anything," Blue muttered.
"That's the problem," Medina teased.
The whistle blew sharp and long. Halftime.
Players jogged off the field, sweat-soaked and laughing, some bent over with hands on their knees. A cooler was dragged closer.
Medina reached for a few water bottles and without much thought, pressed one into Blue's hand.
"Here. Hold this."
"For who?" Blue asked.
Medina just smiled.