can't make you love me- ob87/ka12
║my first non landoscar fic, yay!! hope you enjoy!! imagine tsitp x challengers, and here we are. title from: we never dated, sombr. PLEASE USE YOUR IMAGINATION HERE!! in this au, netball is a MUCH bigger sport, and the team is really famous. like, the lionesses sort of thing. and the f1 rookies are known to be friends :) not everything is accurate (i don’t play half the sports referenced) yes, i rushed this and gave up by the end yes. the ending IS. intentional.!!! ‘he’ is either kimi or ollie, you decide! personally, i’d imagine ollie <3
║smau, fluff, swearing, non f1 au
║rugbyplayer!ollie x netballer!mc x tennisplayer!kimi
║please dont attack my weak smau skills, and i honestly didnt plan this fic it kind of just happened. this took me over a week to write, forgive me!! please notice rower!osc that was an intentional easter egg to a future fic! this includes the f1a girls (i love them) and the f125 rookies. any comments/reqs/feedback always appreciated!! thank you @kenniesf1 for not blocking me every time i crashed out about this!!
✧.*
yourusername
yourusername and the season is over!! thank you to the team, and the coaches, and to all the fans!! time for a well deserved summer break, and then back at it in a few months time- love you all! academynetball academygirls
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chloechambers champs wooo
dorianepin can’t wait to win next year too
liablock favourite captain
⤷ yourusername favourite gs !!
user29 so proud of you girls!!!
user45 i fucking love netball
⤷ yourusername same lol
INNL our winners in pink 🩷!!
Olympics2028 we’re certain we’ll see you in a few years time!!
⤷ yourusername i hope so! although, dont know how im supposed to play against some of my teammates 💔
⤷ dorianepin vive la france or whatever
⤷ chloechambers liablock 🦅🇺🇸🏐🔥
academygirlsfp i’m gonna miss you on summer break 💔💔
⤷ yourusername dw ill be posting loads! group holiday x
✧.*
kimiantonelli
kimiantonelli slightly disappointing end to the best season of my life, but we move on, and i’m hoping to come back stronger for my first senior season. grazie mille !!🇮🇹🎾👟
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olliebearman damn okay who tf are u posting allat for
⤷ kimiantonelli sybau
⤷ oscarpiastri what does that mean ??
georgerussell excellent match, tough game
user45 i have nothing appropriate to say
user29 future wimbledon champ
rolandgarrosoff good luck for next year, antonelli!
⤷ kimiantonelli so excited, thank you
landonorris my little mannnn
✧.*
olliebearman
olliebearman it’s been an honour to captain this team, truly! end of a great season, big up . anyway, time to change mud for sand ☀️
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isackhadjar football is better
⤷ liamlawson no it isn’t
⤷ kimiantonelli no tennis is
⤷ francocolapinto no basketball is jackdoohan
⤷ oscarpiastri rowing is goated
⤷ landonorris u capsized yesterday
estieocon congratulations
⤷ olliebearman thanks unc
kimiantonelli reply to me asap it’s urgent
⤷ kimiantonelli think i’ve got the wrong flight?
✧.*
The sun is playing on the horizon, toying with the inevitably of night. Not quite setting, but basking you in an orange light that feels too comforting and slightly nerve-wracking at the same time. Your first evening of many, of the next six weeks or so, and it feels like mere minutes have passed. You love your sport, love the excitement of the season. But sometimes, it was like a deadline. Until you have to train again, until you have to tape your bruised knees and try to perfect the count of three seconds in your head.
One, two, three-
The volleyball flies way over your head, way over your outstretched arm, and you curse. Chloe huffs dramatically to your left, and Ella shakes her head at you jokingly, before you all turn to watch where the ball rolls. And for a moment, it looks like it’s going to roll into the sunset forever, leaving a small dent in the sand behind it.
But suddenly it hits a pair of sandals, and the victim of your missed return pauses, to pick it up. They’re too far, so you can’t see what they look like, you can just make out their limbs.
“Hey!! Over here, please!!” calls Lia, from over the net, and you wave both arms erratically, hoping for a sign of recognition.
✧.*
“Who’s willing to bet one of us will be hopelessly in love with some random girl by the end of this?” calls Franco teasingly, and everyone groans, but no one bothers replying because something alien has just hit Isack’s foot.
“What is that?”
They erupt into laughter. “It’s a ball, you fuckin’ idiot. You literally kick one of those for a living.” Liam jests, and Isack just grumbles.
“Obviously. But what kind of ball?” he asks angrily, his french accent growing more noticeable as the laughter still doesn’t subside.
“You’ve never seen a volleyball before? That’s crazy.” chimes in Jack, and Gabi nods incredulously.
“Are you meant to kick it?” Isack retorts, and Jack shakes his head.
“Exactly.”
That's when they all turn at the sound of a yell, and they watch as arms flail around in the distance, begging for their ball back.
Franco whistles. “No fucking way.”
Ollie claps him on the back, maybe slightly too hard, and he stumbles forward.
“Mate, they just hit their ball over. It’s not a sign.” he murmurs carefully, trying to hide a smile as Franco squints aggressively.
✧.*
“Why are they just not moving? Dickheads.” you mutter, trying to stare them down, but it's hopeless against the sun. And then, it isn’t, because a figure emerges.
He’s tall, maybe scarily so, but not gangly. No, his arms and legs fit him perfectly, proportionately, anyway. Also, not proportionately, just perfectly. To put it crudely, he was big. Someone who clearly trained, maybe an unhealthy amount.
“Sorry about that. Isack was about to kick it, and I figured that was a bad idea, ‘cause he’d probably burst it, or whatever. Anyway, here you go!” he exclaims warmly, grinning at you, and you smile gratefully. You take it carefully, making sure your fingers don’t touch, but not trying to seem repulsed by him.
You’re about to thank him, but a voice comes before yours. Lia, loudly, unbothered.
“Do you and your friends want to play?” she asks, casually, but her eyebrows raise slightly. A small challenge. And the boy in front of you doesn't seem like someone who backs down easily, someone who politely shakes his head and walks away.
And you’re absolutely right, because a slightly wicked look crosses his face and he nods enthusiastically.
“Sure, but cut us some slack. We’re not volleyball players.” he admits carefully, still grinning, and you shrug.
“Neither are we.” you reply, and he admires you carefully.
“So it’s on, then.”
“Absolutely.” adds Ella, and he raises his eyebrows at her accent, before giving her a gentle smile.
“Mmkay, I’ll be back. But fair warning, only about half of us will be even remotely decent at this. You’d be surprised how uncoordinated some athletes are outside of their own sport.”
Tina scoffs from over the net. “We’re not surprised. Just hurry up, we’re losing daylight.”
He nods rapidly and sprints off, but not in a panicked way, in a rehearsed way. Like running is second nature.
You make a mental note to ask him what he plays when he comes back, but when he returns, flanked by six other people, it slips your mind.
✧.*
“So, brief introductions, or whatever. I’m Ollie, and this is Isack, Gabi, Jack, Franco, Liam and Kimi.” the boy explains, gesturing wildly as they all give brief waves and warm smiles.
“Are you like, their leader, or something?” Aurelia asks, not rudely, but curiously, and he lets out a hearty laugh.
“What? Not at all. Maybe Liam’s, we play on the same rugby team. But the rest? No way. Just cause they think I’m the friendliest looking, they sent me over.”
You raise an eyebrow, but don’t contest it.
“I was willing to step up, but they were pretty adamant about not sending me.” jokes the one to his left, Franco, you think.
“Well, the rules are pretty simple. There’s meant to be six on a team, but we both have seven. It’ll work. We just need to start a rally and return the ball to each other. You can’t hit more than three times before returning. You’ll figure it out as we go.” Chloe explains, before dragging a slightly confused Jack over to the other side of the net and gesturing for him to stand near the front, and stay put. “Now, make two rows, back and front, and we’ll go from there.”
They do as they’re told, and the game quickly begins. You watch them carefully, scrambling and falling over limbs. They don’t communicate with eachother, and neither do you. But your team is a team, so you’re well practiced. You know everyone’s role, how everyone moves. Who will take what shot, where they’ll run to. Who they’ll pass too. Your opposition? Don’t have that at all, and it’s painfully obvious.
“Huh, you guys really aren’t a team. You can talk to eachother, you know. We won’t judge you.” you call over, laughing slightly as the ball smashes straight into the blonde one’s chest, and he makes a gentle ‘oof’ sound. With that, you win the game (by a painful landslide) and you find yourself trailing Lia as you walk down to where the ball had first hit Isack’s foot. You watch carefully, while Ollie successfully sets up a fire in the pit beside you. You notice iron steps leading up to a house, and it mirrors where you’re staying for the next few weeks.
“And you guys really are. A team, I mean. What do you play?” replies the one directly opposite you, his italian accent catching in his throat, an obvious response to your earlier dig.
“Netball. What about you? Evidently not something similar.” you retort, and he sighs dramatically.
“Is it that obvious? Tennis.”
Aurelia makes a sound of recognition. “Hey, I know you! Antonelli, right?”
You are all sitting now, and your legs are tucked into your chest as the warmth of the flames paints you red.
“Yeah, Kimi here is probably the most impressive of all of us. Ranked first in the world, you know?” Ollie boasts for him, clapping him on the back. Kimi looks away bashfully. “Only in the junior category, we’ll have to see where I rank next year.” he adds gracefully, but Aurelia shakes her head.
“Nah, I’ve seen you play before. You’re really good.”
You look up at him now, somewhat intrigued. He doesn’t carry himself in the way you’d expect a champion to. Instead, he raises his head carefully, as if to not disturb anyone else. He wasn’t shy, that wasn’t the right word. You couldn’t quite describe his expression, his demeanour. But when he smiles at you, noticing the inquisitive look on your face, you betray yourself slightly. Unfortunately, ‘he’s pretty’ is the first thought that comes to mind, and you curse your predictability.
“So, netball, the easy version of basketball?” suggests Jack, and Tina scowls at him.
“Nah, I’d say basketball is easier. Less footwork rules, you can travel with the ball and you have a backboard.” Ella says, matter of fact. You appreciate her capability to remain calm, unbothered by the classic narrative the boy was suggesting. You nod enthusiastically. “You’d be surprised, how much thinking it takes. Stupid three second rule.” you huff, and Jack just looks at you blankly. You don’t bother to explain, just note him as somewhat uneducated and too quick to challenge.
“What, that’s where you have to pass the ball before three seconds, or it’s held, right?” Ollie asks, looking up from his phone. You grin at him, surprised, and Lia nods.
“Hand-ball games are weird. Personally, I think football is peak.” claims Isack loudly, and Doriane responds immediately in quick french, surprised by the boy's accent. He’d been relatively quiet before now, same with the person to his right. Gabi, you figured. You turn to him slowly, a lazy smile on your face.
“So, what about you? You a footballer too?”
He seems grateful for the opportunity to speak, and he nods. “Yeah, unfortunately I'm on the same team as him. Although, I don’t think it’s what I want to do, like, forever.” he explains, and you smile. But you can’t agree, can’t nod knowingly, because you know that you’ll want to be on the court for the rest of your life.
✧.*
The friendship between the two groups blossoms quicker than you’d anticipated. It was interesting, how having nothing yet everything in common made it easy to connect. Out of everyone, though, you remain the most quiet. You smile, and laugh, and offer jokes in silence. But there's a faraway look in your eye, a focus on something else entirely. And no one seems to notice, as a week passes. In a way, everyone is thick as thieves. Isack and Doriane, constantly swearing profusely in various languages, and Tina and Chloe had taken it upon themselves to ensure Jack and Franco now firmly believed in the difficulty of netball. But you just flitted between groups, bouncing through conversations. A second you were there, a second you weren’t.
For the girls that knew you, this was normal. Expected, and predictable. Being fluid, adaptable. It was how you worked best as captain, a capability to insert yourself anywhere and still be magnetic. But in some ways, you felt like you were behind, a bit. Like a friend to all, somehow, is a friend to none. But you didn’t complain, because the company was enough, and you liked not feeling tied down. For the boys that didn't know you, and didn’t really care to, they didn’t notice. They returned warm smiles and laughed with you, but didn’t notice if you’d gone to talk to someone else. But the boys who did want to know you, they couldn’t help but notice. Kimi and Ollie watched you quietly, carefully. Never uttering a word to the other, about who their eyes were following, but never quite hiding it, either.
In a sense, their detachment made the three of you anomalies, but anomalies together. And often, you’d find yourself spending longer with them than you realised.
“So, you’re first in the world, impressive. And you? Rugby, huh.”
Ollie looks at you, sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. We, um, we just won the Super league. Sounds more impressive than it is, really. Hoping to play in the world cup, next year, though.”
You smile at him, and nod understandingly. There's something deeper about team sports, a different type of pressure. Knowing your success can be squandered by one mistake from someone else. The pressure of your whole country, on your back. It’s not the same, you represent yourself in a solo sport, no matter the flag on your back. It’s your job to perform, and it’s up to you if you fall. But this, the world teams, the need to captain a team, it’s something else entirely.
“Yeah, same. World netball, yeah.” you reply, tensing slightly. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.
With that, you get up, and you’re gone. They don’t move, just wait for your imminent return.
✧.*
yourusername
yourusername week one, done✅ tina: tanned✅ volleyball games won: ♾️ outfits worn: too many. tinahaussss academygirls
❤️liked by olliebearman, kimiantonelli and others
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tinahaussss okay wasn’t expecting a feature
⤷ yourusername you look so cute
user46 okay am i delusional or do i see my glorious king gabibortoleto there
⤷ user25 that is defo kimi in the corner stop it.
liablock that is my top what.
⤷ yourusername oh!
user87 please help look who’s in the likes what is this crossover???? is this a future of sport meetup or something ???
⤷ user12 if they get my fav girls into different sports i’ll lose my mind!! can you imagine ellalloyd playing rugby
⤷ ellaloyd i’d be really good
⤷ yourusername id be better
⤷ olliebearman loud incorrect buzzer
✧.*
“Oi, bearboy. I’m deeply wounded by that comment, you know. On the public ‘gram, too. Now everyone thinks Ella could have me easily. Which, for the record, she couldn’t.” you yell from the top of your house steps, the sun barely rising in the sky.
Ollie looks up, surprised. His hair is slightly damp, from the ocean or from exercise, you’re not sure. But when he realises it’s you, he beams and waves you down.
You rush into the kitchen, grabbing a pair of sandals, and then you sprint down the steps, barrelling straight into him unapologetically. He tumbles backwards, straight into the sand, and you stand triumphant.
“Hah! I knew it! I’m gifted.” you announce, exploding into laughter, and he can’t help but laugh through his bewilderment too. He’s never seen you so loud, so animated.
“Well, not exactly. That wasn’t a tackle, that was a surprise attack. Not even sure if there's a page in the rulebook for that kind of assault. Up to me, you’d have an immediate red card. Also, bearboy? Seriously?” he groans dramatically, taking your extended hand and pulling himself up against you.
“Okay, so teach me, properly. Then we can have a 1v1, and you can’t blame it on a sneak attack.”
“You can’t 1v1 rugb- okay. Sure, stay here. I’ll be back.” he gives in, jogging away, around the small stretch of trees you’d learnt hid the stairs to his villa.
He’s back impressively fast, bearing a slightly deflated rugby ball under his left arm and a water bottle in the other.
You quickly mask the surprise on your face, and pretend you haven’t noticed his change in posture, gripping the ball. There’s a new layer of confidence rolling off him, one you recognise well. The same way you feel at every centre pass.
“Alright, bearboy. Teach me this nonsensical sport.” you drawl, mocking his pose, and he relaxes immediately.
“Well, let's start with passing. You can’t pass forward, but that’s irrelevant right now-”
“You can’t what? That’s absurd.” you cackle slightly, and he gives you a determined look of mock offence.
“-Anyway, you hold it like this-” he outstretches his arms and then folds his elbows to the side- “and then you essentially chuck it to the side. So bending your elbows is really important, see?” he explains, before accurately throwing the ball to the side. You pick it up, dutifully, and try to copy him, but the ball doesn't travel as nicely through the air as his, essentially falling flat into the sand.
“Huh. Okay, that sucked.” you furrow your eyebrows, feeling that familiar sense of annoyance when you can’t do something perfectly right away.
“Nah, I’ve seen a lot worse. That’s essentially how Liam passes- he’s just good at running.” he jokes weakly, and you can’t stay mad when you admire his laughing face, the sun decorating him gently.
You pick it back up, trying to replicate his arm shape, but he stops you. He looks up at you, a question on his face, his arms hovering by yours. You nod, and shoot him a sarcastic expression, but that quickly fades when his hand finds your forearm and he moves it further vertical, so it’s parallel to the ground. You’re too aware of him now, feeling his breath on your skin, but you don’t squirm. You just stay perfectly still, and you try to exhale as quietly as possible when he steps back.
“Okay, try now. And try to like, spin it as it goes through your palms. Sorry, I don’t really know how to explain it-” he begins, but you throw it determinedly, and it feels better when it leaves your hands. Looks better too, matching his example.
You grin proudly, raising an eyebrow at him expectantly. He opens his mouth, as if to congratulate you, but suddenly his head is pressed to the side of your waist and you’re on the ground, and he looks overly pleased with himself.
“Surprise attack!” he bellows, to the sky, to the birds circling above you, to anyone or anything that will witness his triumph.
When he offers you a hand, and you take it only to drag him down with you, neither of you feel the need to move as the sun kisses the sand you’re lying on. When his knuckles brush yours, you don’t move. You don’t open your eyes, or turn to face him. If you had, you’d see that he was already looking at you.
✧.*
yourusername
yourusername i am so insanely multitalented, so id like to formally announce i am now a professional rugby player. thanks olliebearman for the lesson! also look how cute we are 🥹 academygirls
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user14 is this a hard launch.
⤷ yourusername no lol
ilovekimiantonelli it’s happening it’s happening
⤷ helovesmeyeah dorisack duo incoming
⤷ dorianepin isackhadjar oh!🇫🇷
olliebearman if you can pass the bleep test you can replace liamlawson bc you pass better
⤷ liamlawson wtf dawg
⤷ yourusername im not doing allat
kimiantonelli okay do you have a tennis racket
⤷ yourusername i do
⤷ kimiantonelli lesson time!
✧.*
You have an unfamiliar hum in your chest, a buzzing, not dissimilar to a fly, as you take each step closer to the courts. You can see the green of the astroturf, and the back of Kimi’s curly hair. It’s nerves, you realise. You’re nervous, which is ironic, considering you haven’t felt a singular ounce of nerves since you first stayed playing netball. But here you are, pink racket in hand, and you want to run away.
“Ciao!” he calls, and you wave weakly, hoping he can’t see the slightly strange expression on your face.
He clocks you immediately. “Huh, you look nervous.” he comments, casually, but you can see the corners of his lips tugging upwards.
“What? No, I’m not-” you begin, but he’s suddenly very much in your face and now you very much are nervous.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asks quietly, a wicked look on his face, and you can’t help but admire his annoyingly perfect eyelashes. Then he lets out a hearty laugh, and he’s back near the net, and you’re somewhat dazed and definitely confused as to why you can still feel his burning stare.
“No, I’m just embarrassed. I told you I was hopeless, and I was being deadly serious. My dad, he plays tennis. He loves it. He’s probably a fan, y’know? And he used to drag me to play, every weekend, and I hated it, and he was so upset. But I was just so bad, it was almost funny. I mean, I literally can’t hit the ball.” you admit, somewhat exasperated. And you don’t know why you’re so loud, or so worked up, but you hate that pit in your stomach that is slowly swallowing the joy out of the situation. And for a moment, you imagine Kimi will be staring at you with that same look of disappointment you’d see every Saturday.
But he isn’t, he’s staring at you kindly. Warmly. In a way you don’t think anyone’s really looked at you before, like you’re something worth studying. Something a bit wild, and a bit confusing, but worth the risk nonetheless.
“Well-” he clasps his hands together absent-mindedly- “I’m not your dad. And frankly, I just wanted to spend some time with you, so I don’t care if you’re rubbish. It’ll be fun, come on. And I guarantee, by the end of it, you’ll be able to hit the ball.” he promises, talking quickly so his words weigh less. So they shoot out faster, and disappear faster, but he doesn’t realise that you’ve grabbed them and tucked them somewhere deep, somewhere safe.
You smile gratefully, carefully. Not obvious, just a small, slow curve. One he’ll only catch if he’s really looking at you. He smiles back, and that’s your answer.
“Okay, okay. Sure, you’re right.” you mumble, nodding, and he picks up his racket quickly.
He launches into gentle explanations and guides your hands around the handle, and then he’s throwing balls at you, trying to remain patient as you complain about your wrist hurting or your feet slipping. You try to break down your obstinance, to be open-minded, but with each weak shot you feel a familiar urge to smash your racket on the ground until it turns into plastic shards. You can tell he can sense your frustration, but he looks unsure on what to do, how to calm you down inside when you seem calm on the outside.
“Okay, I see what you mean now. Although, it almost seems like you want to be bad at this. You have the strength, and the speed, to hit it back well, so you’re being a bit obtuse, eh?” he suggests, and you would be offended, but you can tell he had decided on a whim to use the word ‘obtuse’ and he seems to be regretting it. So instead, you cackle.
“Obtuse? Well that is rather rude of you, Antonelli.” you mock quietly, and he frowns, but his smile betrays him. He shakes his head as he comes up behind you, placing his hands over yours.
“Okay, follow my movement.” he whispers, as he swings his arms back and forth gently. You comply, moving in time with him, and eventually he moves away. You pretend you don’t notice the absence of his body, and keep mirroring his swing. And then, a ball is thrown at you, and you watch as it bounces straight off the middle of your racket with a satisfying ‘thud.’ It flies over the net, and you wait for the clink of the metal fence, but it never comes, because Kimi returns it gently. So you do the same, until his shots grow faster, and harder, and you’re running, swinging your racket slightly erratically as you chase the ball, desperate to hold the rally. He sends a vicious shot, directly into the corner opposite, and you know you’re beat. Obviously, you wouldn’t be able to hold your own forever. But your body moves without thinking, and you manage to whack the ball pathetically and it flies just over the net. Kimi doesn’t return it, since he didn’t expect to see it come back his way. You have to stop yourself from yelling “Fifteen, love!”, but you still punch the air proudly.
He chuckles, and you can hear a hint of surprise in his tone.
“That was genuinely good. Like, impressive.” he exclaims, and you grin.
“Maybe we should have a proper match.” you suggest, but he raises an eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t go that far. But you should try playing with your dad again.”
yourusername
yourusername collecting sports like infinity stones or whatever the phrase is! kimiantonelli can confirm im on my way to wimbledon. isackhadjar gabibortoleto boys vs girls football next ??
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iloveantonelli ohmywordhowdoirecoverfromthis
helovesmeyeah dorisack football confiremd
aurelianobels why are my feet on ur main
⤷ yourusername absolutely no one wouldve notcied if u hadnt said that
francocolapinto no basketball then?
⤷ chloechambers no x
olliebearman rugby or tennis???
⤷ user46 this feels like a loaded question
⤷ yourusername neither- netball!
kimiantonelli you were better than i thought youd be
⤷ yourusername i told u i was crap in advance
academygirlsgossip
academygirlsgossip some memes after yourusername's new post, are you team ollie or kimi?
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helovesmeyeah im team dorisack
✧.*
“Alright, football. Now, I hope you know this is going to be a very serious game, highest stakes possible. Ninety minutes of solid locking in, no slacking. I will simultaneously carry the entire game and referee, so don’t try anything funny, understood?” shouts Isack, standing boldly in the middle of the pitch, and you wonder if you might’ve just accidentally enlisted into some shocking sub-section of the military, based on his loud voice and insane posture.
Gabi joins him, laughing quietly while shaking his head. “You can all relax, it’s going to be fun. Essentially, don’t touch the ball, and don’t attack anyone-” he begins, eyeing up Liam and Ollie aggressively, “-and don’t let Isack boss you around, okay? He doesn’t know how to take a day off.”
The french man to his right scoffs angrily but still cracks a smile, and everyone lets out a sigh of relief.
Soon, the game is afoot, and it’s so much more fun than you’d imagined, the ball sliding between your feet and flying erratically on the green as you lazily pass to any flashes of your girls you can find. You’ve found yourself naturally flanking the wings, sprinting up alongside the ball.
The goal is approaching quickly, and you’d never made it this close- the boys are annoyingly much better. But here you are, Aurelia in your peripheral vision, the ball dancing at her feet. Jack goes in towards her, trying to tap the ball away, but she kicks it in your general direction desperately, and you sprint for it.
It’s spinning, too close to the white line, too far away, but you keep sprinting, ignoring a burning in your chest.
Your right foot launches out and flicks it backwards, back into play, and you turn quickly to aim for a shot, but someone else has got to it first.
Ollie looks down at you, a small smile flashed on his face, his hair horrifically messy yet still horrifically perfect. There's something that resembles fondness in his stare, but his eyes are wide and his eyebrows are raised just high enough that you know he’s challenging you.
You laugh at him, just slightly, before your feet are against his, and you’re fighting desperately for the ball back, ignoring when your ankles collide on when he knocks your knees. It’s an erratic tangle of limbs and laughs and breaths and you barely notice your hands on his chest, balancing yourself as you finally, finally manage to tear the ball away from him. Your shot is on target. It sails past an unsuspecting Franco, and it’s your first goal.
You don’t notice how everyone stares at you when you go to high-five Ollie, you don’t notice the glower on Kimi’s face, because you’re too busy looking at him, how his hand fits against yours.
✧.*
Jack and Lia decide to force you all to try surfing next, a ridiculous ordeal.
“I don’t really do watersports.” you huff slightly, arms folded, as Kimi passes you a wetsuit.
“You’d hate our other friends, then. They’re rowers.” he says quietly, but you catch him sneering, and you smile weakly.
He stops, and looks at you seriously.
“Are you okay? You look particularly miserable. Kind of how you looked before tennis. It’s not me, is it?” he asks, more genuine now, and you whack his arm.
“Don’t be stupid. Of course it’s not you, I just- I just really don’t like the idea of going surfing. I don’t know, maybe it was Jaws or whatever, but it never seems to end well.” you admit honestly, and you can tell he’s holding in an evil chuckle.
“You’re scared of sharks? There’s no sharks here, you’re fine.”
You huff, adamant. “Well, of course I know that, Antonelli. But there’s still a very high and valid risk of drowning, or something.” you reply, but he just looks at you ruefully, and you can't describe the way it tugs at your chest a little.
“Well, I’ve seen you swim. You’re strong, you don’t need to worry. Also, let’s stick together, okay? Because I think I’m going to be rubbish anyway, I have no sense of balance.” he replies carefully, but friendly. Warm, reassuring.
So you pull on the suit, tuck your scuffed board under your arm and slip your hand into his, sprinting straight into the sea.
Jack and Lia shout instructions and demonstrate various ways to stand, an easy step-by-step type thing for you all to follow, and you copy them dutifully, aware that Kimi never leaves your side.
You’re up, soon enough, all thoughts of fear dissipated, because you’re too busy laughing at him as he tumbles again and again into the water, his hair growing more unruly and more curly with each violent dunk.
“You truly are rubbish at this!” you yell, hands cupped, watching him paddle awkwardly towards you.
He scowls at you, before wobbling to his knees, and then his feet. For one glorious moment, he’s standing, and the sun bounces around him like a perfect halo. He looks as though he was born of the ocean, something slightly other-wordly. And when he grins at you, you see his teeth, which you could almost affectionately call fangs.
But it is momentary, because he falls straight off, dragging you down with him.
And as you plunge headfirst, you forget to be scared of drowning, because his elated face is imprinted in your mind.
yourusername
yourusername recent dump!! summer looks good on us 😎 thx for the camera photo man olliebearman
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user79 not her only tagging ollie that’s her MAN
⤷ user68 bruh u saying that like she ain’t with my man antonelli #teamkimi
⤷ yourusername i’m team me soz 🤙🤙
helovesmeyeah r u kidding me. it happened IT HAPPENED fuck YEAH 🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷
isackhadjar i’m insanely attractive wtf
⤷ yourusername how do i dislike comments
user27 can ollie or kimi make a move already this is crazy
⤷ olliebearman 🫡 kimiantonelli the fans have spoken
user36 pls can she do something so insanely iconic and date them both???
⤷ chloechambers i liked this comment btw
✧.*
Ollie meets you where you’d seen him those weeks ago, where you’d thrown him into the sand. The sun is still rising, colouring the sky in so many shades and hues that it’s dazzling to look at. You marvel at it intently, trying to ignore how you can feel him staring at you, instead.
“I’m sorry, this is going to come out all wrong. But, I’m assuming you’ve seen all the jokes people are making, and whatever else. And I thought it was shitty of me, and shitty of Kimi, to keep this going, with no like, conversation. I mean, I don't think we’ve done anything wrong, or whatever, and you certainly haven’t, but I just thought I should maybe, I don’t know,” he begins awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck, and you look at him quizzically.
“Um, what is going on right now?” you ask, curious but careful, and he smiles at you bashfully.
“I like you. I mean, I was assuming that was fairly obvious, considering I've been tripping over my feet backwards, or whatever the phrase is, for the last few weeks. I would’ve dropped a banana peel and slipped on it to make you laugh, frankly.” he admits, his brows furrowed nervously.
“Oh.” you mutter, the sound dead and heavy in your throat.
He doesn’t wince, but he looks a bit hurt.
“And obviously if you don’t feel the same way that’s fine, but I didn't want you to think I was taking the piss or anything, or I was being a dick. Well, maybe I am. I am jealous of you and Kimi, I mean the way you guys look at eachother- whatever, it doesn’t matter. I just thought I’d tell you, so maybe you’d be less mad about all the comments? I was worried they were stressing you out. And if I’ve overwhelmed you, that’s fine, I’ll go. But y’know, if you’d let me, I’d like to go out some time. Just us, properly.” he rambles, bouncing his knee aggressively.
You instinctively place a hand on it, to calm him down, and he stops. His eyes meet yours, full of hope, and something else you can’t figure out.
“Ollie-” you begin, but he hears it. The depth of your tone, how you sigh a bit. You see it, in his eyes, the hope fading. It quickly being replaced with a dark, bitter regret.
He’s gone before you can finish your sentence. Before you can explain.
✧.*
You hum slightly, as you carelessly butter your bread, uncaring as you stain the table. Your headphones tangle below your neck, intertwined with your messy hair.
You try not to think of Ollie.
You fail.
Someone yanks your headphones gently, and they fall from your ear. A familiar flash of curls beams at you, and you inhale quickly.
“Hey, Antonelli.” you mumble, trying to smile, but it’s rough and broken around the edges.
For once, he doesn’t notice. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He doesn’t seem to notice your nervousness. Instead, he looks a little nervous himself.
“Are you free?” he asks quickly, drumming his fingers on the table.
“What, now?”
He pauses. “No, tonight? Or tomorrow night? Any night.” he explains, waving his hands slightly in manic gestures.
Your stomach plummets for the second time that day.
“Kimi, are you asking me out?” you murmur hesitantly, and he nods.
“That’s what I’m trying to do, yeah.”
Your face contorts into something simply indescribable, and he recoils.
“Did you know Ollie was here earlier, doing the exact same thing?” you ask pointedly, anger seeping into your words. He blinks.
“No, I genuinely didn’t. I’m sorry, he didn’t tell me, I didn’t realise- well, I did, kind of, but I didn’t think he’d actually ask. Anyway, I’ll go, sorry.” he replies rapidly, but you shake your head.
“I said no, sort of. But Kimi, I don’t know what bullshit is going on, but I don’t want to be involved. I’m not something to fight over, seriously. You’re both so nice, like I genuinely adore spending time with you, but I don’t want to be the reason you guys get into an argument, or stop telling each other things. I know how close you are.” you explain, firmly but not unkindly, and he nods.
“Okay, okay. But, if you put him aside, our friendship aside, would you consider it?” he mutters quickly, a strange gleam in his eyes.
“Um, maybe. But like, I wouldn’t say yes to you and not to Ollie-that would be mean. I genuinely like you both the same, and I don’t want to ruin our last weeks here by causing drama.”
Kimi pauses, and then stretches out beside you lazily.
“So, go out with us both. Give us both an equal chance, then if you still don’t want it to go anywhere, fine. And if you do, the other person won’t be mad. We can agree on it. It will be indefinitely worse like it is now, because we’d both think we could’ve tried if not for the other person. It wouldn’t ruin our friendship, we’re too close for that, but I know I’d be pissed if I watched you leave knowing I couldn’t say anything because you were scared of hurting Ollie.” he admits, shrugging, like it’s fine. Like this is normal. Like you aren’t feeling the strain of an entire childhood friendship on your shoulders, like the next few weeks seem more like doomsday than vacation.
So you swallow and stare at him skeptically.
“So, you’re telling me you’d rather I say yes to you, and yes to Ollie, and I give you both the next three weeks to essentially ‘woo’ me?” you ask, torn between laughter and incredulousness. Your arms are folded instinctively, but it seems so ridiculous that you almost laugh.
Kimi hesitates, before nodding.
“It would make it a bit like a competition, no?” he murmurs.
You tilt your head slightly, trying not to look at him with too much scrutiny.
He lets out a shallow laugh as he exhales. “We’re athletes. We love competition.”
✧.*
Lia rests her head on your shoulder, her breathing in time with yours. The quiet of the night is welcoming, comforting. It gives you the capability to inhale, undisturbed. But you can’t shake the frown on your face, the heavy confusion in your chest.
“Whats wrong, you’ve been miserable all day.” hums Lia quietly, and you tussle with the idea of telling her. Aurelia sits down beside her, a look of similar concern on her face, and you smile gently.
“I’m okay, it’s just, um- Ollie asked me out today.” you admit, your voice low and dejected. Lia beams.
“I knew it! I’ve been saying this, for weeks now! Literally since that first night, that volleyball game. I love being right.” she rambles, grinning, and you nudge her.
“No, the problem is, so did Kimi.” you mumble, and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“Right, so you had to go back and cancel on Ollie for Kimi, then.” suggests Aurelia, but you shake your head.
“No, what? No, I just said no to them both.”
Aurelia sulks. “But I was convinced you liked Kimi. Lia and I had bets on it.” she admits sheepishly, and you scowl at them both.
“So, now you’re sad because you’re not going out with either of them?” Lia asks hesitantly, and you sink your head into your hands.
“I wish. No, instead, Kimi somehow convinced me to let them both try to win me over, so now I’m in some violent love triangle.” you mutter, exasperated, and Aurelia cackles.
“This is comedic genius. Brilliant. I cannot wait to see the memes that come out of this. They’re hilarious, already. Did you see that challengers one? Lia told me you’d get mad if I changed the group chat profile to that picture but I have been sending it without context to people in messages now.” she announces gleefully, rubbing her hands together like some evil mastermind. You can’t even be annoyed, no matter how wickedly she’s grinning at you.
“This is somewhat devious, especially by your standards. Makes sense you’re crashing out, fair enough. Good luck.” Lia adds, rubbing your shoulder in a way that's sarcastic and soothing simultaneously.
“I beg of you, post each date, or whatever. It would be hilarious. Imagine the fans thinking they know what's going on, and then you post a date with the other one. I doubt we’ve ever had so much attention.” demands Aurelia, winking at you, and you have to refrain from laughing and hitting her. Suddenly, she goes quiet, and Lia quickly conceals a slightly scary smile.
“He’s here.” she mutters into your ear, and she’s gone before you can ask which ‘he’ she’s referring to.
Long legs swing around next to you.
Ollie.
“Hey, I’m sorry for leaving so abruptly earlier. I didn’t want you to feel awkward. I just wanted to say, you don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to. Like, I won’t be mad, Kimi is so dramatic. Just let me know, and I’ll back off.”
You let yourself sit with it, for a moment. Your last chance to go back, to pretend you don’t know how they feel. To pretend to not see the angry stares. To pretend you feel nothing at all.
Or, you let it happen.
You let them try, let yourself feel. Let yourself let go of some of the control you grip onto.
Your inability to be bad at anything, your inability to not lead, to not flit between people and check everything is in order.
Maybe, for once, you can let it be a bit messy. You can let yourself get in the way of a friendship, let some drama unfold around you. Instead of fighting for both causes, being the cause.
You could let them try. It wouldn’t kill you. If anything, it might kill them. Worst thing that happens? You never see them again after three weeks.
You already know what the hardest thing will be- distinguishing between the warmth that Ollie radiates and the fire that Kimi almost burns you with. Deciding which will slowly cause you to melt, and which excites you.
Maybe you won't be able to.
Maybe that’s okay.
You turn to look at Ollie, properly. For the first time in weeks, you stare at him, unapologetically. The moon makes the moles on his cheeks look a bit like constellations, and you almost reach out to touch them. And he stares back, assessing you, but in a kind way, patience etched in his eyes. They don’t make your cheeks flush, in the same way that Kimi’s do, but they are no less welcoming. And you realise that you might be greedy, but if he doesn’t want to give up on you, you’re not going to give up on him. But you also can’t give up on the tennis player floating around in your mind, not yet, either.
So, although it might be unfair, in the very grand scheme of things, you decide to be self centred. And you tell yourself it’s the right thing to do, to try, at least. That way, only one of you might end up miserable. Instead of tip-toeing around for the next three weeks, simultaneously drawn to each other yet trying to avoid each other.
In some ways, this is easier. A strange but understandable agreement.
And it was still up to you, you still had some control, somewhere. You could stop it, get out of their orbit, whenever you needed to.
You smile at him, nodding.
“I should be asking you that. Do you really think I’m worth all this?” you try to sound light-hearted, but the question is serious.
He shifts, and shrugs slightly.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think so. But again, if you-”
You laugh at him quietly.
“-bearboy, relax. It’s fine. I mean, for me, it really is. I just hope you don’t regret it.” you interrupt, and he half smiles at you, his arm snaking around your shoulder cautiously.
You don’t move it. You just sit there, listening to him breathing as the waves crash on the shore.
You try not to think about the trainwreck you’re heading straight for, and you absolutely do not think about the fact that you might enjoy it, just a little bit.
✧.*
Tomorrow night arrives too quickly. By now, your predicament has reached everyone, including the boys. You pretend you don’t see them looking at you slightly differently, like you’re more dangerous than before. More volatile.
They take the piss, of course they do. To Ollie’s face, to Kimi's face, to yours. But when you’re with either of them, it becomes more serious. They study you, with smiles hidden below stares. They make mental notes, place mental bets. You can almost see who they’re rooting for, as the day changes.
Kimi knocks at the door. Everyone else is out, you don’t know where. Can’t remember.
You open it gently, carefully, ignoring what this means. What this is the start of.
“Hi.”
He grins.
“Hi. You ready?”
This is insane this is insane this is insane i’ve gone fucking insane what am i doing oh my god in some twisted way im like a homewrecker even though that doesnt apply how do i even describe this situation im going on a date with his best friend tomorrow and he doesnt even care hes still smiling at me like that why is he smiling at me like that i cant do this-
“Are you, um, okay?” he asks quickly, and you nod fervently.
“I’m great! Super great, like, brilliant. Really hungry, yep. And I’m ready, yes.” you ramble, and his eyes crinkle.
“You’re cute.” he teases, but you’re still rambling.
“And I know it’s warm but I brought a coat anyway should I take it- um. Sorry?”
You blink, caught off guard.
“Um, thank you? Thank you. Let’s go before I change my mind.”
He gives you a somewhat sad face.
“Would you really run away from me that easily? I thought you liked me more than that.” Kimi murmurs, offering an arm.
You don’t reply, but you take it, and you calm a little, feeling his hand against yours.
“So, it is me, huh. I do make you nervous.” he accuses, and you scowl.
“Shut up.”
It feels different. Sitting opposite him, playing staring games with each other. The waiter speaks Italian, so he replies for you, orders for you both. It’s too late when you realise he’s already paid, before you even get dessert.
You talk about your childhood, he talks about his. You find yourself relating to him in a way you never quite have with everyone else.
Sure, he talks of a church you never went to. Courts you don’t know. You talk of goalposts he’s never tried to shoot in. A school he’s never seen.
But your stories are identical, sickeningly similar. You can almost insert yourself into his life so easily, like you’ve been there forever. You can imagine running through cobbled streets, with bruised knees and scuffed rackets. Dreaming in the same language.
The relatability makes you sick, and you hate seeing your own wounds mirrored on someone else.
You quite quickly realise you’ll never be able to heal each other, if you ever try to.
But you realised you couldn’t be healed a long time ago, so you don’t even falter.
If anything, you inch closer. Your feet touch under the table.
It’s basic stuff. It’s movie stuff.
It works, the comfortability works.
But there’s still something darker, something that burns. Something that makes you a little scared, like the walls are up for a reason.
You don't press, he doesn’t push.
You don’t know everything about him when you both get up to leave, he doesn’t know everything about you.
You might be a little bit obsessed with finding out.
yourusername
yourusername i hate not being able to speak italian kimiantonelli
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user46 posting this after those fan photos of her and ollie yesterday is crazy
user90 this is a date, what is going on.??!!
kimiantonellifan andddd #teamkimi stays winning
academygirlsgossip oh my god.
kimiantonelli you promised you wouldn’t post that.
⤷ yourusername heehee sorry
user78 obsessed with her !!
user38 i’m so SO jealous
✧.*
It’s daytime, when Ollie decides to weasel you out of the group. No one says anything, when he drags you away. Kimi doesn’t even look. You hear him laugh, even when you can no longer see him, and you wonder how he’s so unbothered. How he’s so confident.
You wonder if he cares as much as you think he might.
Ollie doesn’t ask about the other night. You don't tell him. You just walk side by side, shoulders brushing, and breathe.
He told you to wear trainers. Told you that there would be a lot of walking involved. You hadn’t asked where to, or what was going on, you’d just complied. When you see the hill up ahead, you’re internally grateful for not being stubborn, for once.
He hands you a drink, a juice. Something pink. You take it gratefully, and continue to bask in the quiet with every carefully placed step.
The track is worn and beaten, but rogue stones and pebbles fly under your feet, and you slip ever so slightly. It's inconsequential, barely noticeable, but his hand finds yours immediately, holding you up. When you regain balance, and step forward, you feel his grip loosen.
It’s wicked, you know it is, but you squeeze his hand, and he returns the gesture, trying to hide the smile on his face unsuccessfully.
You can’t help but think he’s adorable. You’re not alone in that opinion, you’re certain of it. But as he beams at you like you’re even brighter than the sun above you, you can’t help but feel a bit evil. You want to plant a fleeting kiss to his cheek, assure him this foolery is over, but you can’t- you’re still torn. Still wondering if you should stop now, tell them both to knock it off and find someone else to pester.
You begin to talk. Not of childhood, not of the past, but of the present. Your interests, what music to listen to. You act like you don’t see him rapidly type names of songs and books onto a note with your name as the title. You act like it isn’t endearing.
He pretends that photography is just a hobby to him, but he gets too excited when you ask to see some of his work. He tells you he plays guitar, but he doesn’t force you to listen to him play on a scratchy video in his bedroom. You talk in turn, but it doesn’t feel awkward. It just feels right, like sharing parts of each other is easy.
“Well, Summer did tell Tom she didn’t want a relationship in advance. I can understand his anger, but I think she’s misunderstood.” you argue, arms folded.
“They went on a date to ikea. That’s soulmate stuff!” he exclaims, and the seriousness makes you laugh.
“But he wasn’t her soulmate, and she knew that. She warned him! He wanted something deeper, something he couldn’t give him. She was unsure, that was obvious. To her, it was more like fun. When she knew, she knew.” you expand, but every word catches in your throat. You can’t look at him, because you’ll see Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and you know he’s probably looking at you like you’re an apparition of Zooey Deschanel.
He shrugs. “I think he’d do it again, even knowing the outcome. Like it’s worth having her like that, over not having her at all. I can understand that.” he admits slowly, but you shake your head.
“He deserves better.” ‘You deserve better.’ you almost mutter.
“Not really. You’re right, he knew. He convinced himself otherwise. That’s his fault. And sometimes, when you want someone, it doesn’t matter if they aren’t ’better’, because they are to you. I guess they both made mistakes.” he stresses, dragging out his obvious metaphor, and you sigh gently. Almost sadly, as you reach the grassy park-like area on the top of the hill.
He doesn’t let the moment linger. He pulls out some sandwiches, and a blanket, and gestures for you to sit down beside him.
“Um, I’ve booked pottery painting for us, after? I’m happy to cancel, if you don’t want to do that, but you seem like the kind of person who’d enjoy it. I’ve been scouring Pinterest for ideas all day, but all the rugby related ones look kind of bad.” he chuckles awkwardly, waiting for your approval. You don’t admit it but your heart explodes a little at the thought of it.
yourusername
yourusername bro said he knew a spot? olliebearman
user32 “bro” and a picnic in the same dump, ouch.
user18 my dream date, cute.
olliebearman my pot looks so ass
⤷ yourusername it’s okay there’s more to you than your pottery painting skills
user54 main fucking character period .
user11 not her going a date with both of them, it’s giving trial run
user27 they’re both punching like massively. she’s everything and they’re just… there
liablock #teamollie
⤷ aurelianobels #teamkimi
⤷ yourusername #teamshutup
✧.*
You decide you’re done with this bullshit when you wake up the next morning. You wake up, feeling guilty. Feeling gross. Feeling greedy.
You don’t like it.
You can’t see the humour in it.
You can’t see how this is better for anyone.
‘Like it’s worth having her like that, over not having her at all.’
Relief and regret mingles in your chest like an ugly cocktail, and it tastes sour. You shut your phone off, and stare aimlessly at the ceiling. You try to push them both out of your mind, but they haunt you, and you realise it’s going to be a very long three weeks.
✧.*
yourusername
yourusername week 4/6 done🙁🤗 francocolapinto doesn’t believe in sun cream and is now too burnt to show his face
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user79 team… bring back oscar and kimi? where are they.
⤷ francocolapinto it’s always where’s so and so and never thank fuck franco is on my screen
ellalloyd 😁
⤷yourusername are you real ?
user42 she’s so aesthetic
yourusername
yourusername week 5/6 and liamlawson we have ken at home…
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isackhadjarfan1 gah damn #NEEDTHAT
⤷ isackhadjar 😉
⤷ isackhadjarfan1 i meant liam…
chloechambers pic looked terrible btw
⤷yourusername cause we don’t have ollie’s good camera
user43 i miss prime ynollie like a MF.
user75 wasn’t gonna drink tn but remembered she hasn’t posted kimi in almost three weeks
yourusername
yourusername and just like that, it’s over ❤️☀️ academygirls academynetball, see you in the gym next week!
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gabibortoleto gonna miss you
⤷ yourusername dw im coming to all ur matches king
user29 she’s so gorgeous oh my gosh
⤷ user29 OLLIE LIKED MY COMMENT WTF??
dorianepin ready to smash it! 👊👊
tinahaussss most eventful yet relaxing trip ever!
academynetball the girls are back in town!🔥
✧.*
Once training starts up again, you try to forget them.
Truly, you curse them, just a little bit. If one of them had backed off, you could be happier right now. Would be happier right now, laughing on their arm.
You knew you were doomed, when you’d looked at them both properly for the first time. You just hadn’t expected it to get just so complicated.
You made the right choice, by not choosing at all, you decide. Because once you’d seen Kimi's spirit, you couldn’t let that go. But you also couldn't dismiss how Ollie felt a bit like sunshine, wrapped up in a person. Him, entirely too kind, entirely too good for you. Kimi, entirely too ambitious, but also entirely too willing.
In some other timeline, you’d chosen. In some other timeline, you’d only met one of them, and it was easy.
But in this timeline?
You had a league to win. You had something to prove. You did not need a rugby player or a tennis player wedged firmly in your unfocused mind.
You try to ignore all the comments about their instagram stories.
✧.*
The whistle blows, and the ball flies from your fingers straight into Lia’s outstretched hands, the ‘WA’ on her chest contorting slightly as she pivots, and you yell, your right arm extended erratically in the air.
7 seconds.
You’re aiming for those golden seven seconds, from centre pass to goal.
The ball reaches you comfortably, and then it’s to Chloe. She lands on one foot, but she can’t hold it. The shot bounces off the rim, and Aurelia catches the rebound.
It’s in, by the time you blink, her gold ponytail swinging as she shoots.
You don’t let yourself celebrate too much, as your body shifts into the defensive.
You shield the opposition’s ‘GA’ as their centre throws a violent pass, twisting to their defence behind. You curse, as it crosses the centre third effortlessly. They don’t do it in seven seconds, but they do it.
And so the game begins, and each centre pass is riddled with heavy breathing and pressure.
You win the match, but not easily. And every ounce of relaxation, every joy from the last six weeks, fades instantly. Like it was some far off fantasy, nostalgia clouding your mind. You almost like it, that it’s become something more mythical than real. Like the photographs are sacred, and the memories even more so. A summer of freedom, a summer without feeling your bandaged knees and cleaning trainers. You almost feel bad, for not training. Like you were unfaithful to the sport that carried your life, even for a measly month and a half. You almost wish you had been training instead. Because the burn in your lungs felt like exhaustion, but not in a good way. In a way that suggested you had less stamina. And winning felt more like not losing than it ever had before. That sentiment made sense in your mind, at least.
“Hey, just a warning? He’s here. As in, he watched the game. For you, I presume. And he’s stood like, right there.” mumbles Tina, into your unsuspecting ear.
“Do you want me to go and tell him to leave? I can, and I will.” adds Ella, eyeing him angrily, but you shake your head.
“I’ve got this, thanks guys. I’ll see you in a minute, okay?” you swallow nervously, nodding to yourself.
When he notices you walking up to him, he looks up awkwardly, his familiar stare making your heart hurt.
“Hi. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” you whisper carefully, and he lets a look of guilt cross his face quickly, before a smile replaces it.
“Maybe I should’ve warned you I was coming. Sorry about that.”
You laugh a little. “Yeah, next time. Anyway, what about-“
He looks at you firmly. “-he’s not here.”
There’s a finality in his tone, like something happened. An inside joke you’re not part of, but it’s not funny at all.
Your breath hitches.
“So, it’s just you.”
His face changes into a grin.
“Yep, it’s just me. Is that a problem? Or were you hoping it was him?” he asks, leaning into you slightly.
You grin back.
“No, this is fine. This is good. He got over it, then?”
The boy in front of you shrugs, his eyes gleaming slightly.
“I clearly didn’t, that’s why I’m standing here. But we came to an agreement.”
You pause. “You had a fight.” Your arms cross angrily, realising even in your absence you were still at fault.
He sighs, placing a careful hand on your arm.
“It wasn’t like that. Isn’t, we’re fine. I promise. But that’s not what’s important. This is the last chance I’m giving myself, okay? So I’m here. I’m here, alone. There is no competition.”
“I thought you guys liked competition.”
He laughs. “We do. But it’s not competition, if no one wins.”
You let that sit with you, and in some ways, you realise he’s right. It was never a competition, because they couldn’t make you love them, because they were holding eachother back.They couldn’t actually win.
But now, there is no one else to decide between.
“What do you want?” you ask carefully, and he raises an eyebrow.
“You know what I want.”
You do.
Now, on his own, it seems more manageable. And you wonder, if by not making a decision, the universe had decided for you. If maybe, all along, it should’ve been him.
And now, if it went wrong, if it imploded, you wouldn’t feel so guilty.
It would be a risk, throwing your own heart around. But your risk. No one’s friendship, weighing you down. No feeling of greed, of indecisiveness. He’s right here. You can reach out, and touch him, and there are no repercussions.
So you do. ᥫ᭡.
