I took the shot, hoping to land a clean free throw, but my mind was clearly somewhere else. The ball bounced off the rim—again. No surprise there. I attempted a few more, but none found their mark. With a quiet sigh, I passed it over to Gabriel, who had been waiting at the side of the court, ready to take the next turn.
We're here, just a bunch of us boys, burning the lazy hours of summer in a casual pickup game in a neighboring subdivision. Nothing serious. A friendly match to kill time while the sun blazed above. Most of my cousins bailed—they had their own vacation plans, and it's not like I was begging for them to be here anyway.
My eyes wandered, inevitably, to the chain-link fence at the far side of the court.
Lia.
She stood just beyond it, half-hidden by the shadows, her presence louder than anyone's voice on this court. Luiz, her cousin, was supposed to be joining our team today—but Lia? Lia was only here because I asked her to be.
She wasn't here for Luiz.
At least, that's what I told myself.
Now, she's surrounded by a small group of guys who hadn't even stepped onto the court yet. They're stalling, smiling too much, their words clearly aimed to impress her. And she's smiling back—playful, effortless, the kind of smile that draws people in without even trying.
That's when it really hit me.
She's single now.
And maybe that's why they're all trying their luck—shoulders squared, voices deepened, throwing their best charm into the air like dice on a table.
I drifted over to the bench near where they stood, close enough to listen in without making it obvious. There were other girls on the opposite side of the court, but the boys? They only had eyes for Lia. She was the epicenter of it all.
What did I expect? She was that girl—the one everyone knew. The one whose name floated through hallways like a melody. The one who could wear confidence like perfume and make heads turn without trying. Whether guy or girl, everyone wanted a piece of her light.
"So? You're really not together anymore?"
One of the guys leaned in, his tone low and just a touch too bold. I knew that voice—he was older. A senior from her school. He flashed her a smirk that was more suggestive than subtle.
Lia laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
And I sat there, jaw tight and hands clenched into fists I didn't realize I'd made.
Because watching her smile at someone else felt like taking a shot from the half-court line—missing by a mile, and still pretending you weren't aiming for something at all.
"There you go again," she said with a teasing tone, not a hint of irritation in her voice—just the kind of softness that lingered, laced with playful allure. "I already told you, we're done. How many times do I have to say it?"
My jaw tightened, tongue pressed to the back of my teeth as I held back the urge to grit them. Something about the way she spoke—so effortlessly flirtatious—set my blood on a slow boil.
"Did he leave you?" one guy chuckled, his voice laced with venomous amusement. "Maybe... you just weren't good enough?"
Laughter exploded from the group of boys, sharp and mocking. I turned my head toward them, fists itching. That was below the belt. I expected her to snap, to glare, maybe even walk away—but instead, she tilted her head and flashed a smile that was bolder than it should've been.
"Oh?" Her voice purred like silk sliding across bare skin. "Funny how you say that... when you've never had a taste."
Gasps. More laughter—louder this time.
"Oh? Then give us a sample?" one of the guys dared, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
And her smile—damn it—her smile stretched wider, far too willing to play along.
"Lia!" I called her name before she could say anything stupid.
Because I knew her. I knew that look in her eyes. I knew exactly what kind of smart, reckless reply she was about to throw back. Her body language screamed it—confidence cloaked in chaos.
The guys glanced in my direction, spotting me just past the court. One of them raised an eyebrow and laughed again, more to his friends than to me. Then, just like that, they scattered, drifting away from Lia like leaves blown by wind.
She slouched slightly once they were gone, a faint sigh escaping her lips.
I set down my drink and walked toward her just as she stepped in my direction too.
There was no smile now. Only that familiar quiet between us, thick with things we never said, but always felt.
A chain-link fence stood between us, thin and rusted, yet somehow enough to mark the space I wasn't ready to cross. We could've walked around, met face-to-face like normal people. But I stayed where I was, my gaze flicking toward the group of guys still hovering near the court's entrance—lingering, as if hoping she'd return her attention to them.
"I'll walk around—"
"Stay there," I cut in, sharper than intended.
She raised a brow at me, her expression unreadable. She had those unmistakable eyes—almond-shaped, always slightly narrowed as if she was perpetually unimpressed. A kind of beauty you didn't forget: half-Spanish, half-Chinese, born from two lineages that blessed her with glowing skin and a face sculpted for curiosity.
I remembered the first time Arianah asked her—some lazy summer afternoon, when they were lounging poolside.
"Are you Chinese?" she asked while swishing water at the pool's edge.
Lia had laughed. "My mom is. Chloe got the same eyes, but hers are rounder. She's more chinita than me."
"Yeah, but you got your mom's skin, right?" Arianah insisted. "Still. You both got it good."
Lia had shrugged back then, sunlight dancing on her bare shoulders. "I guess. Dad's fair too. Spanish roots. But in our family, those things don't really matter."
And maybe that's what made her different. She didn't flaunt the kind of beauty that screamed for validation—it just existed quietly, confidently. She wasn't tall, but she moved with the grace of someone who knew people looked. Not because she asked for it, but because they just did.
Still, I wouldn't call her cute. Cute was Natalie, with her angelic features and gentle laugh. Lia? She was something else entirely. Her softness was only skin-deep. Beneath it, she had sharpness—like a blade wrapped in silk. You'd only realize it once you were already bleeding.
"Emilia!"
The voice behind me snapped my thoughts.
Lia turned her head and smiled—slow, deliberate—at Gabriel, my cousin, who had just joined us.
And that smile… it wasn't the sweet kind.
It was the kind that started wars.
I glanced toward Gabriel, just in time to see him saunter over to the bench and take a long drink from his water bottle, sweat glistening along his jawline.
"You're actually here to watch Luiz? Now that's a miracle," he muttered under my breath.
Emilia let out a soft chuckle—light, airy, almost teasing. I turned to her, catching the faint curve of her lips. There was something in that laugh… something unreadable.
"No," she said, her tone lazy with disinterest. "I just didn't feel like staying home."
Then she tilted her head to the side, like a curious cat trying to charm its way into someone's lap—effortless, graceful, and just a bit dangerous. Her fingers threaded through her hair in a slow sweep, and that same flirtatious smile bloomed again—this time, directed at my cousin.
Gabriel raised a brow. "So... what brings you here? Doesn't seem like your kind of scene," he said, voice lined with implication.
She giggled softly, eyes gleaming. "You know me too well."
Wait—what?
That tone. That look. I didn't quite catch it.
"You're not even gonna question your cousin's motives?" she teased, biting her lower lip playfully.
Gabriel nearly choked on his drink. He spluttered, then burst into laughter, loud and real. And she joined him like it was the most natural thing in the world—as if they'd been sharing inside jokes for years.
I curled my fingers around the metal fence, gripping it tighter than I intended. My eyes narrowed at Lia, watching her closely. I didn't know they were this… close. The kind of closeness that came with knowing too much—too many details, too many truths not meant to be shared with just anyone.
Gabriel wiped his mouth and waved her off. "Nah. I know him. And I know you…"
And suddenly, I wasn't sure which part made me more uncomfortable.
Lia let out another soft laugh, her gaze lingering on Gabriel longer than necessary—as if caught in a silent conversation only they could understand.
"We need to talk," I said casually, keeping my voice even. "Let's go to the park nearby. I'm done playing."
That finally caught her attention.
"Ooh, I'd like that. Watching a game I don't care about is boring anyway," she said, her tone light, her eyes now flicking to mine.
Without another word, I walked off toward the bench where Gabriel and I had left our things. He tapped me on the shoulder just as I reached for my duffel bag.
"You're gonna ask for help, aren't you?" he said knowingly.
I gave him a side glance as I slung the bag over my shoulder. "And what makes you say that?"
He scoffed and nudged me playfully. "She's not your type. And you're definitely not hers."
A smirk pulled at the corner of my lips. I clapped his shoulder.
"That's new. Didn't think there was a type I couldn't win over."
Gabriel grinned. "Shy one, huh?"
"Very," I muttered, already turning away.
Too shy. And maybe that's why I was still trying. Because the quiet ones—they're the hardest to read. And sometimes, the most dangerous to want.
Gabriel laughed and let me walk off, no further questions asked.
Just a short distance from the basketball court, the subdivision's park stretched out in quiet serenity. I found a spot at the clubhouse, right where I could see the tennis court across the street. The air was still, but my thoughts weren't.
Lia stopped in front of me, hands confidently resting on her hips. My gaze betrayed me for a moment—lingering, just a little too long on the soft plane of her stomach. She was wearing a dangerously short white dress, delicate sleeves puffed around her arms, and the fabric hugging her in all the right ways.
"Where's the date you promised me?" I asked, eyes drifting back up to her face.
Her smirk curled with mischief.
Then she bent lower, just slightly—but enough to make my heart skip. Her sharp eyes narrowed as she leaned in, her face now inches from mine. I stiffened, pulse unsteady. Damn. She knew.
She must've caught me looking earlier. And I wasn't even going to deny it.
Lia was a living temptation. For our age, her body was... insane. Small-framed, but with curves that demanded attention. And if I didn't already know who she really was—what she was like—I might've made a move.
But here's the thing: one glance into her eyes and you'd know she wasn't the innocent type. She wasn't soft. She wasn't sweet. Lia was the kind of girl who could flirt you into a trap, make you fall—and never catch you.
A serpent with a killer smile.
"W-What?" I managed.
She leaned closer, her voice silk and sting all at once. "You look desperate... and thirsty."
I pulled away, heat rising to my face. "Cut it out, Lia."
But she just stood there—still smirking like she'd won something.
And maybe, she had.
"Is your body aching from waiting months for Mapple to notice you?" she teased with a sly chuckle, sinking onto the bench beside me like she owned the space.
I exhaled quietly, realizing—once again—that we were clearly not on the same page.
"You deserve it, honestly. With how much of a playboy you are, Natalie should make you suffer more!" she added, punctuating her words with a swift kick at a loose stone using her spotless white Stan Smiths.
I watched as her legs stretched out in front of her, restless and full of energy, the way her whole presence always seemed to be. I turned my gaze back to the tennis court, trying to center myself, but my patience was already wearing thin.
"I know you've formed some kind of unfair judgment—"
"Oh, come on, Apollo! You really think you can fool me?"
I didn't even get to finish. Damn it.
She cut through my words like a blade, eyes alight with amusement. "Yes, fine, I'll help you. But don't think for one second I'm doing this for you. I'm helping so that when the day comes—and you break Natalie's heart—I can say I did everything I could. That I tried."
Her voice was laced with sharp truth, and yet... her certainty irritated me.
"You talk like it's inevitable. Like I'm bound to hurt your precious friend." My jaw tightened. "I know people talk. I know the rumors about me—about my cousin and I being so-called 'playboys'—but they're not true. I mean, maybe he—"
She was mouthing the exact words I was saying, her lips moving in mockery, like she'd memorized my excuses before I could even finish them. My eye twitched. My arms crossed over my chest.
"Will you stop that, Lia?"
But she only grinned.
That infuriating, knowing grin of hers that always seemed to say: I already know how this ends, even if you don't.
She tilted her head and smirked, her voice laced with mischief. "Oh, please. Drop the act, Deleon. You don't have to fake anything with me."
Her eyes sparkled with amusement, mischief dancing in them like firelight. "I know one of your exes. And according to her, you looked absolutely miserable after you and Kelly broke up. That's how you got to her—by looking all broken and tragic. Next thing she knew, you two were a thing! Pathetic!" She flicked a finger toward my chest, feigning disgust. "That face of yours really is something else."
I chuckled under my breath, a little guilty, a little nostalgic. "Well... she wasn't wrong. That whole thing was a mess."
She didn't even wait for me to explain. "You pretended to be heartbroken, got a girl to comfort you, and the next day, you're suddenly dating the comforter? Classic manipulation! Unbelievable."
I laughed harder—because, honestly, she wasn't entirely off. I had done that before. Not on purpose, but it did happen. It was like some twisted version of 'appeal to pity,' only... it worked. And I never really stopped it.
"Hey, in my defense, that wasn't intentional," I said between fits of laughter.
"Yeah, right. No guy ever admits that being a walking sob story is their go-to flirting technique."
I raised both hands in surrender, still grinning. "Okay, fine. Yes. Guilty as charged. But back then, I really was sad. I wasn't faking anything. I didn't mean for it to turn into something else. I was just... comforted. And then the feelings grew. It wasn't some elaborate scheme."
She rolled her eyes so hard I could almost hear it. "That's why I know how your mind works, Leo. That's exactly why I'm going to help you get close to Natalie—because I know if I don't, you'll find a sneakier way. And at least if I help, I get to warn her, too."
I raised an eyebrow. "Warn her? What are you even planning to say?"
She smiled sweetly, too sweetly. "Oh, nothing damaging. I'll just share a few stories I've heard about you... a few things she might find interesting."
"Whatever you've heard about me, Lia—those are just rumors. Nothing more."
She pulled a face, lips twisting with unconvinced amusement.
"Sure. And after I help you—because you're my friend—and tell her the truth—also because she's my friend... then it's up to her. If she decides to give you a chance once you start courting her, then that's on the both of you. If she says yes and ends up heartbroken, don't drag me into the mess. My conscience will be clean. I did my part."
I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair. "You seriously think I'll hurt her? Lia, have you even met her? She's... soft. The kind of soft that feels like a daydream. Like you'd break her just by holding her too tightly."
Lia raised a brow, unimpressed. "You've felt this way before, haven't you? With your exes. You always say the same thing. What happened to them?"
I scoffed. "They turned out to be monsters."
Her jaw dropped slightly, a quiet gasp escaping before she stared at me like I'd grown two heads. I lifted a brow in return, silently asking what her deal was.
"Has it never occurred to you," she said, voice sharp as glass, "that maybe you're the reason they became monsters?"
My brows furrowed, confusion lacing my face. "Me? Why would I be the reason? Am I some kind of evil evolution catalyst?"
"You jerk," she snapped, rolling her eyes so hard it could've been a reflex. "It could be how you treat them, Deleon. Ever think about that? The way you move, the way you love—maybe it messes with people. Maybe your charm is a trap. Maybe the girls you date already have doubts about themselves, and you just feed it without realizing. It's not always them."
I exhaled loudly, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Why are we even talking about this again? Weren't you supposed to help me with Natalie?"
"Oh, I will. But before I do, I need to figure out what your real problem is. I'm not handing over my friend just to let you mess her up too."
I groaned, a deep, drawn-out sound of frustration that echoed the obvious truth—I was not getting any help from her. Not a sliver of sympathy. Not even a maybe.
Fine. I'll just find someone else who's willing to help.
They were friends, she and Gabriel. Maybe Gabriel knew someone who could pull a few strings. But wait—wasn't it just Luiz and Lia who Natalie was close to?
This is ridiculous.
"This is so stupid," I muttered to myself.
"You probably start ignoring your girlfriends a few days—or weeks—before breaking up with them," she accused, her voice cutting through the air like a blade sharpened by bitter experience.
"I don't remember," I replied flatly, the boredom in my tone laced with defiance.
She let out a mock gasp. "Wow! So now people aren't even allowed to look at others? Come on! Everyone checks people out once in a while. Don't tell me back when you were still with your ex, you didn't think I was hot?"
I blinked at her and shrugged. "Of course I thought you were good-looking. But it's not like I was fantasizing about you while making out with my girlfriend, so... nah." She fanned herself dramatically, as if rejecting the very idea of my imaginary affection.
"See? Then why are you lecturing me like some self-righteous saint? Everyone admires someone else at some point—even you. Or in your case, some guy with a jawline sculpted by angels."
"Yeah, but do you actually tell your boyfriends that you find someone else attractive?" I shot back, raising a brow at her.
Her eyes fluttered like she hadn't expected the question, and her smirk faltered slightly.
"Well... they ask me—"
"And that's exactly the problem." She pointed at me as if that settled it. "You're such an idiot sometimes. Your relationship's new, Deleon. It's natural for your girlfriend to feel a little insecure. That's not the time to play Mr. Brutal Honesty. You just throw in a harmless white lie, reassure her, make her feel like she's the only one that exists in your universe. Then, later on—once she's secure, once you've built the trust—you can start admitting that, yeah, sometimes you find other people attractive. But you're with her. That's what matters."
I blinked, momentarily stunned. Why did she have to sound so... right?
"Why even ask if she doesn't want to hear the answer, right?"
"Because she's insecure, Deleon!"
"Then why ask at all? That's a toxic habit I despise. Getting all jealous, and then—boom! Breakup."
"Don't tell me you never get jealous?"
A laugh slipped from my lips. "I don't. If people admire my girlfriend, that's a compliment to her, isn't it? Means I've got a stunning girlfriend."
"Oh, really? So if it's Luiz and Natalie, you won't be jealous?"
Her question pulled me upright, a small flicker of surprise crossing my face.
"That's different. I said—if it's my girlfriend we're talking about, Lia. If Luiz happens to like Natalie while I'm with her, that's fine—as long as he respects her."
"You're not even together."
"It's just a hypothetical situation."
"Fine. So, if Natalie turns out to be the jealous type—like, she gets upset whenever you admire other girls—would you still like her?"
"That would depend on how she handles her jealousy."
Lia groaned, leaning closer. "Okay, picture this—she's furious. Yelling at you, tears in her eyes, losing control!"
"She's not a monster—"
"Well, we don't know, right? But what if?!"
Lia's words hung in the air, a question wrapped in challenge. I tried to picture it—to see Natalie as someone who could lose herself in jealousy—but the image wouldn't come. It felt impossible.
"Don't compare her to others—"
"But what if she does?" Her chinky-shaped eyes widened, locking onto mine, searching for something.
I frowned, meeting her gaze.
"See? If you can't handle her worst, then don't even try to make her yours."
"I thought you were supposed to help me? Why does it feel like you're trying to stop me?"
"I'm not stopping you. I'm just making sure you're serious—that you're not chasing her just because of some fleeting attraction."
"Why do you always think that way? Do you really believe I'd pursue her just for that?"
"That line…" she whispered, her voice tinged with something I couldn't quite grasp.
"Oh, so it's you who thinks like that, huh? Now you're assuming I do too?"
A laugh escaped me, a little too sharp.
"And what makes us different, huh? You know Gabriel, don't you? That says it all!"
"I am serious with my relationships—"
"Yeah, right!"
She raised an eyebrow, a mix of defiance and pride. "I've dated boys who start sweet but turn into jealous monsters."
"Like the one who messaged me last time, remember? The one you broke up with because of his jealousy?" I shot back, my words like a dart.
"Yes. But do you know what? I gave him a chance. I tolerated his jealousy for months, telling him again and again not to be threatened by anyone…"
I scoffed, leaning back, but her voice didn't waver.
"I tried. I gave my all to keep that relationship. So when I finally let go, I walked away without regrets, Leo. But you? The moment jealousy creeps in, you let go immediately, don't you?"
Her words struck a nerve, carving a silence between us. She wasn't wrong. I couldn't even deny it.
"That's what I'm trying to tell you. If you truly love your girlfriend, you give her a chance. You forgive her flaws. You try. Again and again. And only when you've exhausted everything—only then do you walk away. That's what you never do, Leo. You never give chances."