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Whistle Blown

Penulis: Sophie Kingston
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-09-07 07:31:37

Ava’s POV

I wasn’t supposed to be there.

Coach—my father—hadn’t officially approved sideline access yet, but Maya pulled strings, and suddenly I had a prime seat on the bleachers with my notebook balanced on my knees.

The gym smelled like sweat and polish, the kind of air that stuck to your lungs. Players darted up and down the court, sneakers squeaking, the ball smacking hard against the rim. But my focus kept sliding to one person.

Ethan.

Number twenty-three moved like the court belonged to him, sharp and certain. Every drive, every pass, every pivot felt charged. He should’ve been unstoppable. And yet—I saw it. The half-second delay. The glance that cut toward me when he thought no one noticed.

And I wasn’t the only one who saw.

The whistle cut through the air like a blade.

“Cole!”

My father’s voice boomed, snapping the whole team to attention. Ethan jogged over, towel around his neck, his face unreadable.

The players shifted uneasily. I lowered my head, pretending to scr
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  • Crossing the line    Close Range

    Ethan’s POVChemistry isn’t loud.That’s something I’ve learned the hard way.It doesn’t announce itself with fireworks or dramatic declarations. It shows up in the quiet moments—when your body leans before your brain does, when silence feels fuller than conversation, when the distance between two people becomes its own kind of gravity.I felt it the next time I saw Ava.It wasn’t planned.Of course it wasn’t.I was leaving the practice facility later than usual, sweat still cooling on my skin, head half-full of film notes and defensive assignments, when my phone buzzed.Ava: Are you still near the gym?I slowed mid-step, bag sliding down my shoulder.Me: Just leaving. Why?A few seconds passed. Long enough for my pulse to tick up.Ava: I’m nearby. Lila dragged me out again. I escaped.I smiled despite myself.Me: That sounds dangerous.Ava: It was. I require rescue food.Me: There’s a place two blocks over. Still open.Ava: On my way.I didn’t think about it. Didn’t overanalyze. I ju

  • Crossing the line    New Gravity

    Ethan’s POV The morning after the win didn’t feel triumphant. It felt… quiet. Not the empty kind. The kind that settles after something loud has passed through you and left its imprint behind. My body knew it too—legs heavy, shoulders sore, ribs still aching faintly from that elbow two games ago. I moved through my apartment on autopilot, coffee brewing, phone charging, sunlight spilling across the hardwood like it had nowhere better to be. Tyler was still asleep on the couch, one arm flung over his head, hoodie twisted halfway up his back. He’d crashed hard after the game, muttering something about cafeteria food and how I owed him breakfast. I smiled to myself and let him sleep. Practice wasn’t until late afternoon. Media availability had been light—thankfully—and Coach had texted a single line to the group chat: Recovery today. Be smart. So I did something I hadn’t done in weeks. I slowed down. I stretched. Took an ice bath I hated. Ate actual food instead of inhaling what

  • Crossing the line    Pressure Sets

    Ethan’s POVThe season didn’t slow down just because my head was a mess.If anything, it sped up.Three games in five nights. Different cities. Different crowds. Same lights, same noise, same expectation that I’d show up and perform like nothing outside the hardwood existed. Like my body wasn’t sore in places I couldn’t name. Like my mind wasn’t constantly drifting—back to Ava, to her careful words, to the quiet strength in her text the night before.It went better than I expected.I’d reread that message more times than I wanted to admit.Not because it told me much.But because it told me enough.She was still in it. Still standing.That mattered.The first game was away. Loud arena, hostile crowd, the kind that feeds off momentum and blood in the water. We were down six early, sloppy turnovers, bad spacing. Coach called a timeout and stared us down like he was deciding who deserved oxygen.“Ethan,” he said. “Set the tone.”I nodded, rolled my shoulders, wiped my hands on my shorts.

  • Crossing the line    Terms and Conditions

    Ava’s POVThe notification chimed while I was brushing my teeth.I froze with my toothbrush still in my mouth, mint foam gathering at the corner of my lips, because I already knew who it was before I even reached for the phone.Ethan.The screen lit up with his name, his message short, gentle—exactly the kind of thing that made my chest ache more than any grand gesture could.Glad you got some rest. Here if you need anything today. No pressure.Good luck with the meeting.I exhaled, the sound shaky and ridiculous for something as simple as a text.I’d told him I had a meeting. I didn’t specify what kind. Didn’t say legal. Didn’t say the Chronicle. Didn’t say anything even close to the truth.And he didn’t push.He never pushed.That was somehow worse. Because the space he gave me made it impossible to pretend he didn’t care.I rinsed my mouth, splashed water on my face, and sat on the edge of the bed. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a long second before I finally typed:Ava: T

  • Crossing the line    The Space Between

    Ethan's PovI woke up to the sound of my own name—muffled, repeated, too close.It took a second to realize it wasn’t real.Just my phone vibrating against the nightstand, the screen lighting up the dark room.Unknown Number.For half a heartbeat, my chest tightened.Then logic kicked in: spam, probably. Or media fishing with new burner lines.I let it ring out.The silence afterward was heavier than it should’ve been.I sat there, rubbing a hand over my face, replaying every second of last night with Ava—the pauses, the tremor in her voice, the way she kept her hands buried in her pockets like she was afraid they’d betray her.She told me what was going on.A legal issue.Something strong enough to shake her.Something tied to the Chronicle.And the part that kept eating at me:She’d been alone with it.Until now.I pushed myself out of bed and headed to the kitchen. It was barely 8 a.m., but my brain felt like I’d gone ten rounds. Coffee helped, but not enough. Nothing short of answ

  • Crossing the line    Fault Lines

    Ava’s POVMaya insisted on coffee.Not a phone call.Not a text thread.A face-to-face conversation at the small café near my apartment — the one with the chipped mugs and terrible background jazz that somehow made tense conversations feel less explosive.I barely slept, but I still got there early. Maya arrived ten minutes late, wind-tousled, overworked, and somehow still intimidating.She took one look at me and sighed.“Jesus, Ava. You look like you lost a boxing match.”She ordered us two coffees — hers black, mine with too much sugar — and slid into the seat across from me.“Okay,” she said. “Show me your face.”“My face?”“Your emotional face.”I groaned and rested my forehead against the cool table. “I’m overwhelmed, Maya.”“Of course you are. That letter was designed to do exactly that. ‘Remedial Action Notice.’ I swear, they hire lawyers specifically for their dramatic vocabulary.”My laugh was thin but real.She reached into her tote bag and pulled out a folder thick with p

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