Chapter Four — The Basketball Court

By January, people had started noticing us.

Not in an obvious way.

Just little comments here and there.

“Why are you always together?”

“Did you two fight again?”

“Arone only talks that much to you.”

Every single time, I denied everything immediately.

Which only made my friends laugh harder.

The problem was…

they weren’t completely wrong.

At some point, being around Arone had become natural.

If he was absent, the classroom felt strange. If we fought properly, my mood got ruined for the entire day.

And unfortunately, he had started realizing that too.

One afternoon after lunch, I was peacefully revising debate notes when Arone suddenly pulled my notebook away.

“You have debate practice today.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“Because I’m studying.”

“You’ve been staring at the same page for ten minutes.”

“That’s called concentration.”

“That’s called sleeping with your eyes open.”

I kicked his chair immediately.

“You’re annoying.”

“You say that every day.”

“Because you earn it every day.”

A small smile appeared on his face again.

That smile was becoming dangerous for my mental health.

After classes ended, I finally walked toward the auditorium for debate practice.

Unfortunately, the basketball court was on the way.

And unfortunately for me…

Arone was practicing.

The entire court was loud with sneakers squeaking against the floor and boys shouting across the game. Meanwhile, I stood near the entrance pretending to check my notes.

Pretending being the important word.

I looked up just in time to see Arone score before his teammates started yelling loudly.

Then suddenly, he noticed me standing there.

His expression changed immediately.

He jogged toward the side of the court while wiping sweat from his forehead with the edge of his jersey.

My brain stopped functioning.

Completely.

“You’re late for practice,” he said casually.

I stared at literally anywhere except him.

“I know.”

“Then why are you standing here?”

I shrugged dramatically.

“Boys are hot.”

Silence.

Then I added the worst possible thing.

“And they have abs.”

One of his teammates started choking from laughter nearby.

Meanwhile, Arone stared at me like I had personally offended his entire bloodline.

“You come here to look at boys?” he asked slowly.

“You’re overreacting.”

“I’m overreacting?”

“You literally look angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“You definitely are.”

He grabbed his water bottle from the bench aggressively.

“Go to debate practice,” he muttered.

I watched him walk away while trying very hard not to laugh.

The entire evening during study hour, he ignored me completely.

No teasing. No comments. Nothing.

At first, I enjoyed the peace.

Then after fifteen minutes, it became annoying.

After thirty minutes, it became unbearable.

Finally, I poked his arm with my pen.

No reaction.

I poked him again.

Still nothing.

“Arone.”

Silence.

“Are you seriously upset?”

Without looking away from his notebook, he replied calmly:

“You said boys are hot.”

I immediately looked down to hide my smile.

“You’re jealous.”

That finally made him look at me.

“No, I’m not.”

“You ignored me for an hour.”

“You counted?”

“That’s not the point.”

For a few seconds, we just stared at each other quietly.

Then suddenly, he sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” I replied softly, “you still keep talking to me.”

Something unreadable flickered across his expression for a second.

The classroom around us buzzed with noise while winter sunlight faded slowly outside the windows.

But somehow, that moment felt quiet.

Like it was only us.

Me.

And the boy who was slowly becoming impossible to ignore.

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