I didn't message Natalie right away. I didn't want her to think I was some kind of creep—just because we'd had a brief conversation, I wasn't going to rush in and snatch her number.
Like Lia warned, she was cautious around guys. I didn't want her to mistake me for one of those toxic boys who hit up girls with meaningless small talk—showing up out of nowhere just to impress. Besides, that wasn't really me anyway.
Saturday arrived sooner than I expected. At first, I wasn't even sure why I was so eager for the day. All I knew was I was looking forward to the game.
It wasn't until we were inside the gym, listening to the coach's instructions, that I understood why. That's when a group of girls stepped through the doorway. Joshua's eyes instantly locked onto them.
Carlos furrowed his brow, shooting Josh a warning glance—but in the end, even he couldn't resist following their movements with his eyes. Raven appeared before them, and Carlos scratched the back of his neck, while Josh remained frozen in place, mesmerized.
Meanwhile, the coach was giving us orders, but honestly, my mind was somewhere else.
"Remember—homecourt advantage. To beat them, you need to overwhelm. You can't just chase after points if you want to win."
I nodded absently, my gaze drifting back to the newcomers.
They settled by the hoop. I rested my palms on my knees, staring down at my shoes. Suddenly, Josh leaned over and rested his head on my shoulder.
"Did you have Riva's number?" he whispered.
I shot him a look, brows slightly drawn, and shook my head. But Josh wasn't done—he subtly gestured toward the group of girls lounging near the back of the ring.
"Didn't she used to have a thing for you? What, you're not into her? She's gorgeous, man."
Our eyes drifted to the cluster of girls, casually seated with their legs crossed, laughter bubbling from half of them. Among them was Natalie—serene, quiet, striking. Riva sat beside her, along with Nadia and three other girls who were visibly more carefree, giggling at something only they seemed to understand.
But Natalie—she wasn't like them.
She just sat there beside Riva, observing the game with a soft, distant expression, her silence louder than their laughter. She wore jumper shorts and a plain white tee, but there was something about the simplicity of her outfit that made her stand out. Innocence wrapped her like a second skin.
Then she stood.
I blinked, caught off guard, as she made her way toward the court with gentle steps. In her hands, a bottle of Gatorade—large and glistening with condensation. She offered it to a guy warming up inside the court. Lia's cousin. His dark blue Ateneo jersey clung to his back, his last name stitched bold across it.
Natalie turned slightly in profile as she passed the bottle, and—damn.
My gaze locked, shamelessly tracing the curve of her figure. The gentle slope of her chest, the way her hips swayed... Her body wasn't loud, but it spoke in a language I instantly understood. I bit back a smirk.
So this was why I'd been counting down the days to this game.
"Starting five—Raven, Carlos, Lance, Ethan, Adrian," our coach barked out in the background. "They're probably putting Sy, Suarez, Rivera, Panis, and Valencia. If you've ever played in Passerelle, you already know who their shooter is."
Josh, trying to keep up with the conversation, leaned closer again.
"You know, I get it now. The girls who hop from one boyfriend to another? Starting to lose their appeal. Sure, they're fun—but isn't it…"
He trailed off, echoing the coach mid-sentence like he wasn't really paying attention either. I wasn't listening much, either.
My eyes were still on her.
I shrugged, hoping he'd get the hint and back off. Instead, he frowned, clearly realizing I wasn't interested in what he was trying to say. Then he pointed at me.
Our eyes locked, his gaze heavy with accusation. I met it with a cold glare.
"Putting on airs, huh? I knew it. When you're pretending, you don't react—unlike before, when you were scrolling nonstop on Facebook, looking for girls!"
"Shut up, Josh," I muttered, trying to keep my tone serious.
He groaned and jabbed his finger playfully at my chest. I caught his hand and pushed it away, but I couldn't help laughing at how childish he was being.
"Hey! You two, are you even listening?" Our coach snapped, breaking into the moment.
Damn Joshua. This is all your fault!
I tried my best to ignore him, but the devil always finds a way to drag us into trouble.
"Yes, coach," I answered, smiling reluctantly.
Josh chuckled quietly beside me, and I couldn't stop the smile from tugging at my lips. The coach gave us a sharp, piercing look before turning back to the court and tossing the ball.
Before the game officially began, we were allowed to warm up on the court. We had already done a bit earlier, but I couldn't stay still. My feet kept moving, tapping and shifting, trying to stay loose and ready.
After our warm-up, we returned to the bench, settling in to wait for the game to unfold. Gabriel was the undeniable center of attention—wherever he went, loud and flashy girls swarmed like moths to a flame, cheering wildly with banners fluttering in their hands. Even Raven, who usually kept a certain distance from them, couldn't escape their cheers just because he was Gabriel's brother.
This was the world we lived in—imagine the chaos our coach had to manage with a team full of boys who thought they were gods of the court. Each one stubborn in his own way, but undeniably skilled enough to make their heads swell.
Basketball was in our blood. Our fathers loved the game, and their passion passed down to us effortlessly. It was the thread that wove our childhoods together—half courts and hoops at home were as common as morning sunlight.
Gabriel and Raven were the first to stride onto the court, followed by the rest of the team. Gabriel's hair was longer than usual—enough to earn a few warning looks from the discipline office. He only planned to cut it when he was finally summoned. Raven, on the other hand, kept his hair clean-cut, which made him look taller—technically, he was just an inch or so taller than Gabriel.
Carlos leaned against the wall near the bench, his back to the court, kissing his own arm absentmindedly as he watched the opening plays. His military-style fade was sharp, much like mine, while Josh was beside me, his long, thick waves making him look like the innocent, boyish type—but appearances were deceiving. The sweatbands wrapped around his arms and forehead? Just for show.
The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game. We held the lead through the first quarter—not by much, but enough to feel confident.
"Carlos, you're in. Raven, sub for him," the coach ordered as Kevin stepped in to replace another player.
Kevin stood tall, the darker counterpart to Joshua's angelic features. I wouldn't say he was as skilled, but he carried himself with a calm maturity and sense that his younger brother hadn't quite mastered yet.
The game grew tighter, bodies pressing and colliding on the court. Arianah's voice rang out loud and sharp across the gym, cutting through the tension. I glanced back to see her shouting, her fiery spirit always preferring to taunt our opponents rather than cheer us on when we took the shot.
"Deleon, you're in for Gabriel! Joshua, Carlos…" the coach barked, pacing the sidelines.
I rose and called out to Gabriel, who was gasping for air. He pointed at my ear, and only then did I realize I was still wearing my earring. I pulled it off and handed it to him.
"Give this to Arianah," I said.
He nodded wordlessly, still panting heavily.
We kept our lead, especially once Sy stayed in the game—he was their top scorer, and though exhaustion weighed heavily on him, the coach wouldn't risk benching him. He didn't want to overwhelm him with pressure.
But even the best can falter when pushed too far, and Sy's moves began to lose their edge, faltering and off-timed.
"Losers!" Arianah's voice rang out again, full of playful jeers.
Lance chuckled softly, shooting her a sideways glance.
The intensity of the game surged, electrifying every nerve in my body. Caught in the whirlwind of adrenaline and the thrill of leading, I lost myself in the moment. After a slick layup, one of the defenders pointed at me—my signature move was on full display. I'd always loved that move; it unsettled the guards, froze them in place like statues.
I have this trick that always looks like a traveling foul—one that irritates Josh endlessly. He insists I'm breaking the rules every single time, but the truth is, it's all in the timing. Only the sharpest eyes could catch it—and even then, it's a blur.
"Traveling! Call it!" my defender barked, eyes blazing.
I tuned him out and sprinted down the court, fast break igniting beneath my feet. Josh tapped my shoulder, already switching to defense as the ball changed sides. Our team snatched possession, and from afar, I heard Sy's frustrated shout, sharp and cutting through the noise.
"You idiot!"
I chuckled, knowing full well my sister was probably firing off another round of ruthless taunts.
The ball landed in my hands again. Spotting an open lane, I readied my favorite move once more. But just as I prepared to glide past, an irritated defender shoved me hard—immediately drawing a foul call.
My momentum carried me fast and unsteady, and before I knew it, I crashed toward the bleachers where Natalie and her friends sat, watching the game.
She froze, caught between surprise and fear as I barreled toward her. My momentum was unstoppable, but I slammed the ball down hard just in time to avoid hitting her. It didn't matter if the ball went out of bounds—I had to protect her. Her friends quickly rose, creating a barrier to shield her from my reckless charge. Since she didn't move, I pressed my back against the wall behind her to keep myself from colliding with her body.
"Sorry, sorry…" I muttered, catching the slight squeeze of her eyes.
Damn, she was adorable.
"It's okay…" she whispered, still catching her breath.
I watched her blink slowly, relief washing over her features. I couldn't help but smile—she had been genuinely scared. Don't worry, I thought, I'll make sure you're safe.
She let out a soft sigh when she saw I was just standing beside her. I turned back to the game, but every time the ball neared their side of the court, my eyes couldn't resist sneaking a glance in her direction.
That moment became the highlight of the match. By the third quarter, Sy hadn't even played—benched the whole time. The Suarez brothers and Kevin were on the floor, and our lead never grew beyond five points.
Then, in the first two minutes of the fourth quarter, Sy exploded—scoring six quick points! Suddenly, they were ahead, and Sy had clearly gotten the rest he needed.
I was teasing Carlos relentlessly when I caught the furious glare he shot my way. Hot-headed as ever, and still not thinking straight when angry—which just made me angrier. So many stupid mistakes happen when he's like that.
"Don't get mad, Carlos!" I shouted, trying to cut through the tension.
Coach sent me in as Carlos' substitute. I managed to score, but it was too little, too late. The clock was against us, and when the final buzzer blared, defeat was ours.
Sy's last shot sailed through the hoop, stretching their lead to nine points. As the siren echoed through the gym, he made his way over and shook my hand firmly.
"Good game," he said.
I nodded, gripping his hand in return.
I glanced toward the bleachers where their group sat, clapping enthusiastically. Nadia and the loud crowd moved over to the team's bench, while Riva and Natalie remained seated, their smiles shy and quiet, watching their friends celebrate the win with infectious energy.
I caught Arianah's eye from across the stands. She was deep in conversation, her face animated with every word. When she saw me signaling, she paused mid-sentence and tossed aside her drink before diving right back into her lively chatter—as if nothing had happened.
I took a sip of water and wiped the sweat from my brow.
"Coach keeps saying Sy's good at boxing out," I heard him tease us.
After wiping off the last trace of sweat, I grabbed my shirt from the duffel bag, slipped on my black long sleeves, and stole one last glance at Natalie—still sitting there, calm and serene.
"Well," Coach barked, "that's enough for today. Step up your game next time!"
My teammate raised his hand, and I followed suit, bowing my head as Coach led us in a brief prayer and offered a few words of encouragement.
"Knights!" came the chant, one word echoing through the gym before we released.
I set my things down and made my way toward where she stood. Despite Riva's constant, sharp gaze fixed on me from beside her, my eyes never left Natalie. She was absorbed, watching her friends congratulate the winning team. But when she finally noticed me, a flicker of nervousness crossed her face.
"You okay? Sorry about earlier," I began with a gentle smile.
She blinked a few times, and Riva's eyes shifted between me and Natalie.
"I-I'm fine…" she murmured, avoiding my gaze.
There was something about her discomfort that tugged at my conscience. Damn it! Why did I have to approach her in the first place?
Still, I hoped she'd feel at ease around me eventually. And truth be told, the way she looked—so shy and hesitant—only made her more endearing. I couldn't help but grin.
"How about you? You good?" I glanced at Riva, hoping to pull attention away from Natalie for a moment.
I didn't really want to pry into the other girl's business, but I knew I had no choice. I wanted Natalie to feel comfortable—truly comfortable—with me. And sure, her shy side made her all the more charming, but more than anything, I wanted us to be friends. The more at ease she was around me, the better.
"Uh, yeah…" Riva gave me a small smile. "I didn't get hit or anything."
I smiled back, catching a quick glance from Natalie at the corner of my eye.
"I was worried you all got all sticky from my sweat. Hope that didn't happen," I teased gently to Riva.
"No, not at all," she replied, returning my smile.
I stole another glance at Natalie. She just shook her head silently, not saying a word.
"Well, good to hear!" I nodded and turned my attention back to the court.
When the team started gathering their bags, I followed suit without announcing my departure. Saying goodbye felt too formal, and the last thing I wanted was to make her more awkward. I didn't want to push her into feeling self-conscious.
I organized my things, casting my gaze around the whole gym. I wasn't sure if this was the first time I'd met someone so quietly reserved. My exes had been shy once, sure—but they always eventually came out of their shells.
That's why I couldn't quite understand why I was so drawn to Natalie's quiet, timid nature. It felt like if she were mine, we could live in our own little world. Plus, she was undeniably attractive. A hot girl who's shy—that's a rare combination.
"Let's go, Leo…" Gabriel's voice broke through my thoughts when he noticed me lingering by the bleachers.
I searched for someone who could help me out. Sure, I could handle her on my own, but it would take too long—especially since she goes to a different school. I needed backup. Most of the people I knew from her school were guys. If there were any girls, they either held grudges against me or were interested in something else.
I started walking toward the exit.
"Bye! See you next time!" I heard the girls shout near Natalie.
Carlos and Josh exchanged glances but didn't bother me. On any other day, I might have joined their banter out of curiosity, but not today. I kept walking until we were outside. Once out, I pulled out my phone to send a message on Messenger.
Me: Lia, what does she like to do? Any hobbies?
Lia was online but silent. I waited, even as I got into the car, but still no reply.
Sliding into the front seat, I noticed our driver was already inside, waiting for Arianah and Chloe. Chona was riding with her boyfriend, so just the two of them were behind me.
Me: Hey, why weren't you at the game? Your cousin was playing.
Still no reply. I stared at my screen, and when another notification popped up, I swiped it away—turns out it wasn't Lia.
Me: Too busy...
She finally replied.
Lia: Did they win?
I exhaled deeply, dropping my bag onto the floor of the car. Arianah leaned over and took it, placing it next to Chloe while the two chatted non-stop behind me. Arianah's voice was animated, leaping from one guy to another like a pinball machine of gossip. Chloe, calm as always, listened with the kind of patience only best friends offer.
"Heading home, Leo?" our driver asked, catching my eye through the rearview mirror.
"Yes, sir," I muttered, fingers already flying across the screen.
Me: Yup.
The car was pulling out of the school gates when I noticed the silence again—no reply.
Me: Why didn't you come to watch?
And then, something that made my brows pull together.
Lia: Why are you spamming her? This is her boyfriend, idiot!
I blinked. Snorted. Sat frozen in my seat, the irritation crawling up my spine like a sudden itch.
What the hell?
A second message came quickly, as if she realized how far she'd gone.
Lia: Sorry! Crap. I was busy, okay? That's why I didn't make it to the game.
Why? Why don't you scroll up and read your own messages? You'll see what I was doing.
I rolled my eyes, the tension slowly easing.
Me: Forget it. I was just gonna ask about Natalie.
Lia: I'll tell you later. I promise. Sorry again.
Me: No problem.
I locked my phone with a soft click, but my thoughts stayed on one girl—the quiet one with soft eyes and an even softer smile. Natalie.