(Earlier that day)
I woke up feeling like crap.
That was the first thing. Just this weird, twitchy jolt, like someone hooked a battery to my veins while I was out. The ceiling felt like it was an inch from my face. All the expensive, minimalist junk in my room felt like it was closing in. I couldn't get my brain to shut the hell up.
Yesterday was stuck in my head like a bad song. Isabelle's voice. That look she gave me when I finally got under her skin. I'd replayed that hallway moment way more than I'd ever admit. Just a loop, over and over and I couldn't find the off switch.
I rolled out of bed before the alarm could even annoy me. It was the weekend. Practice day. Usually, that's my reset button. Discipline, control, all that. But today? I just felt restless. Like I was waiting for something to explode.
I took a shower so cold it made my skin sting, trying to blast her out of my head. It didn't work. I grabbed my gear, black sleeveless hoodie, compression stuff, the sneakers I've basically lived in. My ball gear is like armor. It's the only time I'm allowed to be as aggressive as I actually feel without people calling my father.
I headed over to Adrien's room. The dorm was quiet as a grave. Only the guys who actually give a damn stay on weekends. Adrien opened the door already geared up.
"You're up early," he said, snapping his wristbands.
"So are you," I muttered. My voice sounded like I'd been eating glass.
He gave me that annoying, "I know something you don't" smirk. "Big scrimmage. Coach wants intensity."
"Coach always wants intensity."
We headed down, our shoes thumping in the empty stairwell. Adrien started making food. "Eggs or a sandwich?"
"Sandwich," I said. I grabbed two energy drinks from the fridge and chucked one at him.
He caught it without even looking. "You're hitting the caffeine hard lately, Dmitri. You jittery or something?"
"Just focused."
"Sure," he said, wrapping the sandwiches in foil. "You look like you're ready to hunt something."
We ate fast, talking about plays and rotations. It was normal. Safe. The kind of stuff I actually get. I grabbed some water, threw my bag over my shoulder and we headed out.
The campus is weird on weekends. Too quiet. I kept catching myself scanning the paths, looking for... something. I didn't even know I was doing it until Adrien slowed down.
"What are you looking for, Dmitri?"
"Nothing."
He stopped dead. "You've checked the library and the courtyard twice. Give it a rest, man."
I gave him a look that usually shuts people up. "You're seeing things."
He just laughed and bumped my shoulder. "Relax. She isn't gonna be at the athletic wing. She probably sleeps with that violin case."
My heart did this stupid, pathetic jump at the mention of her, but I kept my face flat. "I don't know who you're talking about."
"Yeah, okay," he grinned. "Come on. I'm gonna destroy you today."
The gym was empty when we got there. At least at first.
I ran my drills hard. I was being violent with the ball, making the other guys stay the hell out of my way. Sweat was dripping off me, and I was finally starting to feel that "autopilot" mode where my brain actually stops talking for five minutes.
Then... the air in the room just shifted.
I saw a flash of movement. My focus snapped instantly. She was standing by the edge of the court in this light sweater, her red hair pulled back. The sun hit it and made it look like it was actually on fire.
For a second, I felt this heat in my chest that scared the hell out of me. She was here. She was watching me.
And then she laughed.
It wasn't even loud, but in that big, quiet gym, it hit me like a punch to the ribs. I fumbled the ball. It bounced away with this hollow, echoing thud, basically announcing to the whole room that I'd lost my cool.
I couldn't stop staring. She looked... open. Unfiltered. All those sharp edges she usually has were gone. But she wasn't laughing by herself.
Julien was right there.
He was leaning in, whispering something in her ear. Whatever "Golden Boy" nonsense he was saying, it worked. She smiled even wider, a gentle and genuine smile, her laughter spilling out in a way I'd never seen before.
My jaw felt like it was gonna crack. This sharp, ugly knot twisted in my gut. My hands curled into fists, my nails digging into my skin.
What did he whisper to her?
Why was she laughing like that with him?
She looked up. Our eyes locked across the hardwood. She got that "startled" look again. Awareness. Like she'd seen a ghost.
Julien felt it too. I watched his shoulders square up as he followed her eyes and found me, sweating, breathless, staring at them like I wanted to break someone's face.
"Something wrong, Isabelle?" he asked. I could hear him from across the court.
"Dmitri." It was Adrien.
I didn't blink.
"Dmitri!" He grabbed my arm, hard. "Why'd you stop? You almost tripped the point guard."
I forced myself to take a breath and look away before I ended up charging over there. Adrien looked at them, then let out this long, tired sigh.
"Oh," he whispered. "She's here. And she brought the backup." He looked at me, eyes full of warning. "Complications, man. Always complications."
"Call a break," I said. My voice was wrecked.
Adrien looked at me for a second too long, then yelled at the team. "Five minutes! Hydrate!"
I walked to the bench and downed half a bottle of water in one go. My pulse was slamming against my eardrums. When I looked up, she was leaving. Alone.
Julien stayed behind for a second, watching her go, then he looked back at me. He wasn't acting "kind" anymore. He looked protective. He looked like he was inviting me to a war I'd already started.
I stood up, dripping sweat and headed for the exit.
"Where are you going?" Adrien called out.
"I'll be back."
I followed her into the stone hallway. I tried to keep my steps quiet, but I was vibrating with this weird energy I didn't know how to get rid of. She didn't hear me at first, she was humming some tune. Probably something Julien liked.
"Enjoying yourself?" I said. My voice cut right through her humming.
She spun around, eyes wide. "What?"
"I asked if you were having fun," I said, stopping a few feet away. "The court's for athletes, Isabelle. Not for... dates."
She stared at me, her face turning back into that wall of ice. She sighed, looking totally done with me. "What do you want, Dmitri? I was just passing through."
I stepped forward, blocking her way. I was a foot taller than her, covered in sweat and probably looking like a maniac, but I don't care.
"I'm not in the mood," she said. "Move."
"Or what?" I said, real quiet. I stepped closer, making her tilt her head back just to look at me. "What happens if I don't move?"
Her eyes flashed. "Please. Don't start."
I tilted my head, my voice dropping to a drawl. "Your escort's gone. Julien stayed behind. Did he finally get bored with playing the knight?"
That did it. Her mask cracked. She looked furious.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," she said, trying to push past me.
I blocked her again. Then again. Every time she moved, I moved. Her breath started coming in these short, ragged hitches. Finally, she just stopped, her chest heaving.
"What do you want from me, Dmitri? Honestly. What is it?" she snapped.
I shrugged, leaning against the wall, trying to act like I didn't care even though my heart was about to pound out of my chest. "Nothing. You're just... entertaining."
She let out this dry, crappy laugh. "Entertainment? Is that it? You break my stuff, you ruin my life and you follow me around for a laugh?"
"You're different when you're mad," I said. I leaned in until I could see the little gold flecks in her eyes. "The 'perfect student' is boring. This version? This is worth watching."
Her breath hitched. For a second, the anger turned into this raw... awareness. "You did this yesterday. Now today. I don't get your game, Dmitri Volkov."
"I told you," I whispered. "I'd take responsibility for you."
"Responsibility for what, exactly?"
The voice came from the end of the hall. Cool. Steady. Totally unwelcome.
I turned slowly. Julien was standing there, hands in his pockets, looking colder than I'd ever seen him. The "Golden Boy" had followed us. He was standing in the shadows, looking like he'd finally found a spine.
The air in the hall went to zero. I felt my hands curl into fists.
The game just got a lot messier.