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作者: Sweet Magaret
last update 公開日: 2026-04-09 17:50:20

Coach didn’t relax the rule after the fight, and if anything, he doubled down on it in a way that made it impossible for either of them to pretend it was temporary.

By Monday morning, it wasn’t just training together anymore. It was everything. Paired drills, strategy sessions, conditioning, even the gym work.

If Ethan was running, Marcus was right there beside him. If Marcus moved to lift, Ethan had to follow. There was no room to avoid each other, no space to cool off, no break from the con
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  • Crossing The Line    8

    Ethan didn’t think much of the email when it first arrived. At this point, he had trained himself to skim through messages from lecturers, tutors, and administrators, barely noticing the content before tossing it aside. Attendance alerts, assignment reminders, passive-aggressive comments about his lack of participation—they all blended together into a background hum of obligations he wasn’t particularly invested in. Lunch was halfway done when he opened the message, casually scrolling through the lines as he chewed, expecting the usual bureaucratic monotony, until something made him stop mid-bite. He sat up straighter, the plastic tray in front of him suddenly feeling like it belonged to someone else. His eyes went back over the text as if reading it twice might erase the words he had just seen. “Wait—what?” Jason, sitting across the table and nibbling on a sandwich, looked up, curiosity flickering across his face. “What happened?” Ethan didn’t answer immediately, eyes fixed on

  • Crossing The Line    7

    Coach didn’t relax the rule after the fight, and if anything, he doubled down on it in a way that made it impossible for either of them to pretend it was temporary. By Monday morning, it wasn’t just training together anymore. It was everything. Paired drills, strategy sessions, conditioning, even the gym work. If Ethan was running, Marcus was right there beside him. If Marcus moved to lift, Ethan had to follow. There was no room to avoid each other, no space to cool off, no break from the constant proximity that seemed to stretch longer with every passing hour.At first, the team had hovered around them, watching closely like they were waiting for another fight to break out, like all it would take was one wrong word to set everything off again. But when it didn’t happen, when the shouting turned into something quieter and harder to read they slowly stopped paying attention. Conversations picked back up, laughter returned in smaller bursts, and people started acting like this was no

  • Crossing The Line    6

    The first crack didn’t come from them, and Ethan almost missed it because he wasn’t paying attention to anything outside of himself.Practice had already started, the usual sounds of sneakers squeaking and balls hitting the floor filling the gym, when Jason called his name from the side. It wasn’t loud, just enough to get his attention without drawing anyone else’s.“Hey, Ethan.”Ethan jogged over, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist. “What?”Jason leaned against the bleachers, arms crossed loosely, his expression more serious than usual. “Coach wants you to tone it down.”Ethan frowned immediately. “Tone what down?”Jason gave him a look, not annoyed, just… tired. “You know exactly what.”Ethan let out a short breath, glancing away for a second. “Since when do you care?”“Since it’s affecting everyone,” Jason replied, pushing himself off the bleachers. “You think people don’t notice? It’s getting old.”That made Ethan pause, even if he didn’t want it to.His eye

  • Crossing The Line    5

    The next day was worse in a way Ethan hadn’t expected. He told himself it was because of the fight, because Coach had forced them into this situation, because the entire team had seen them lose control. That should have been enough to explain the tight feeling in his chest as he pushed open the gym doors earlier than usual, hoping to get ahead of it all. It didn’t work. Marcus was already there. Of course he was. Ethan slowed just slightly when he spotted him near the free-throw line, stretching one arm across his chest, expression calm and unreadable, like yesterday hadn’t happened at all. Like they hadn’t been dragged off each other while the rest of the team watched in silence. There wasn’t even a hint of tension in the way Marcus stood there. If anything, he looked more composed than usual, and that somehow made it worse. Ethan forced himself to keep walking, dropping his bag by the bleachers. He didn’t greet him, didn’t nod, didn’t even look at him again. If Marcus wanted t

  • Crossing The Line    4

    By the end of the week, it stopped being funny. At first, people had laughed. Quiet snickers when Ethan messed with Marcus’s stuff. A few amused looks when Marcus bumped into him a little harder than necessary during drills. It had felt like typical team tension. Competitive. Petty. Normal. But somewhere along the line, it shifted. No one laughed anymore when Ethan swapped Marcus’s training shoes for a smaller size. No one said anything when Marcus “accidentally” knocked into Ethan during a drill hard enough to send him off balance. No one even looked surprised. They just… watched. Because it wasn’t harmless anymore. It wasn’t JUST pranks. It felt more targeted and deliberate. And everyone could feel it getting worse. Even Ethan could feel it. That tight, constant irritation sitting under his skin, like something waiting to snap. Every glance from Marcus made it worse. Every quiet look, every measured movement. The way Marcus didn’t react half the time, like he was above it, l

  • Crossing The Line    3

    By the third day, the gym felt like its own battlefield. No one said anything outright, but Ethan could feel it: sides were forming, tensions tightening like stretched cords. Who laughed at which joke. Who passed the ball to whom. Who stayed silent when the air turned thick. Every small move carried meaning now, and Ethan had learned quickly that Marcus’s presence amplified everything. Marcus arrived early, as usual, calm and collected. Leaning against the wall, he scanned the gym with those unnervingly sharp green eyes, arms crossed. Ethan’s chest tightened without warning. He hated that he noticed it. Hated that Marcus’s mere existence could make him feel this… unsteady. Ethan’s mind started turning. A plan formed. Not dangerous, not messy, just annoying enough to get under Marcus’s skin without leaving a trace. He waited until Marcus went to grab a basketball. Then, silently, Ethan opened Marcus’s locker. He rearranged his shoes, stacked the towels differently, and switched th

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