21. Amelia

Amelia (Enchanted by Taylor Swift)

It’s game day.

The moment we pull into Pitchers Arena, I want to throw up.

Not because I'm sick.

Well... Maybe a little. I mean, there are people everywhere.

Students are packed into the stands, waving banners and screaming like their lives depend on it.

I used to be one of them... cheering and fangirling.

As I look around, my chest unsettles more. These people are so many. It’s quite overwhelming. So this is how the view usually is from down here... The noise, the lights...

And then I see the giant PITCHERS ARENA sign hanging above the opposite side of the court.

Oh, shit. This is actually happening. My first official game.

I tighten my grip around my water bottle, swallowing with great difficulty.

“Breathe, Heart.”

I glance sideways.

Everett. He’s looking at me, dressed in his jersey, his number 4 stretched across his back.

“I am breathing.”

“You're holding your breath.”

“Nah.”

He raises a brow, closing the space between us.

Fine.

I exhale slowly.

His lips twitch, his entire focus on me. “Come here.”

Before I can protest, he pulls me into a quick hug, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“You know what you're doing, yeah?”

I nod against his chest. “Yeah.”

“You're the libero. You’re digging everything.”

I know. I know that. I huff.

He grins. “You're good, okay?”

“Okay, baby.”

The whistle sounds from the court.

It’s time. My heart skips a beat.

I take one last breath and fall in line with my team as we file onto the court. We all move close to the net and shake hands with the opposite team, each, one after another.

And then I see her.

Rachel Lancaster stands on the other side of the net in her Falcons jersey.

Our eyes meet and her brows lift slightly.

Then she smiles, taking my hand in hers.

I smile back. My queen.

Who would have thought that I’d one day be here, playing against my very fave?

Oh, this is going to be interesting.

***

The first few points are chaos.

My first receive goes straight to Spencer.

Perfect.

My second almost doesn't. I quickly dive at the last second, barely getting my forearms underneath the ball.

“YES!” Susanna screams as I scramble back to my feet.

Everett glances at me from across the court and gives me a quick nod.

Good.

I look away. Eyes on the ball, Amelia. Eyes on the ball.

The Falcons score the next point.

Then we score.

Then they score again.

The entire arena is loud enough to shake my bones.

By the final set, my knees are burning, my hair is sticking to my forehead, and I swear my lungs are about to abandon me.

The score is tied.

24–24.

Sigh...

One more point.

The Falcons serve.

I watch as the ball comes hard toward me. I drop low, moving backwards.

Then... Dig.

The ball shoots perfectly toward Susanna.

“Go!”

She sets it.

Everett approaches the net, leaps, and....

I barely have time to breathe before—BAM!

His spike tears through the Falcons' defense and the ball hits the floor.

The whistle blows.

26–24.

For half a second, nobody moves.

Then our side erupts.

“We won!” I scream, jumping up and throwing my arms around Susanna.

Someone grabs me from behind.

I know that scent. My cedarwood.

I laugh before Everett spins me around, lifting me completely off the ground.

“That's my girl!”

I burst out laughing. “I told you I could do it!”

“I knew you could.” His grin is super wide.

He sets me down, but his arms remain around my waist.

Across the court, Rachel catches my eye.

She smiles. I smile back, my chest heaving. I run quickly to my bag and take out a bottle of yoghurt, tear out a sticky note, scribble something and paste the note on the bottle before going under the net to Rachel’s side.

“Here. For you, my queen.”

Her face lights up, “I thought you weren’t my fan girl anymore.”

“What?! That’s not possible. It’s you and me forever, my queen.”

She reads my note and chortles.

It’s all my fault, my queen. Blame me. Eish.

 “Thank you, Lia.”

We embrace quickly and I head back to my teammates.

Everett’s scowling.

Before he speaks, I quickly surrender. “Don’t worry, babe. I have something special prepared for you.”

“You better.” He snickers as we all pack our stuff.

After a brief meeting with our coaches, we file out onto the bus, still buzzing, still glowing, our voices hoarse from all the screaming.

Gladdis just beat Pitchers.

The thought keeps circling in my head, refusing to land. We beat Pitchers. And I— I played a role in that win. My hands did that.

I press my forehead against the cool window, watching the streetlights blur past, and this giddy smile keeps tugging at my lips no matter how many times I bite it down. Around me, the team is still celebrating—singing off-key, reliving every rally, and someone’s waving their phone light like a trophy.

Everett’s eyes are closed beside me but our hands are entwined on my thigh.

By the time the bus rolls into Gladdis, the adrenaline has softened into a pleasant ache. All I can think about is a hot shower and my bed.

But the moment we reach our house, I stop dead on the porch.

Music is blasting. Loud, bass-thumping music, shaking the windows from inside.

"What the—"

The door swings open and my jaw drops.

Balloons are everywhere. Blue and gold streamers draped from the ceiling, fairy lights twinkling along the walls, and a massive banner’s stretched across the living room. And people. So many people are packed shoulder to shoulder, drinks in hand. Their faces turning toward the door, then, in perfect unison:

"SURPRISE!!!"

Confetti erupts. Someone shoves a cup into my hand and someone else is chanting my name. Soon, the whole room dissolves into cheers.

I stand frozen in the doorway, completely dazed, exhausted, and utterly blindsided. My mouth keeps opening and closing like a fish.

Crazy. Really crazy.

Harper appears with a crown.

Everett calmly steps forward, takes the crown from him and places it on my messy bun.

“Congrats on your first win, Liv!” The guys chorus.

Oh, my. My eyes moisten and I pout. “Thanks, guys.”

Suddenly, I feel bad for my queen. How would she be feeling right now?

Just as I enter the living room fully, I spot some girls on the couch—

My brows furrow. Are those not... Pitchers’ girls?

And as confirmation, as my eyes dart among them, I spot Rachel.

Wait, what?

She’s currently chatting with some blonde guy. Errr... I blink blankly. How come... they even got here before us! This is insane. I laugh.

And as if noticing my gaze on her, she turns. The moment our eyes lock, she smiles and raises her glass at me. I raise my cup back and she returns to her conversation with the guy.

Crazy. Look who I was just worrying about. I smile. Regardless, I’m glad Rachel is okay.

I beam at Everett and secretly pull him upstairs from the noise.

As soon as the door shuts behind us, I jump into his arms, wrapping mine around his neck.

“You know I told you I prepared something special for you...”

“Uh-huh.” He bites the corner of his lip.

I bring my mouth to his ear and lick it.

His breathing shudders momentarily.

“Let me go freshen up, Sweetie. I’ll be right back.” I hop down and leave his room for mine.

"Fuck." His curse brushes my ears as I shut his door behind me.

I take a quick, thorough bath, do my skincare, and pull the lingerie set from the back of my wardrobe—the one Janet's coursemate helped me pick. Deep wine-red lace. A delicate bra with scalloped edges, thin straps that sit just right on my shoulders, and a matching thong with a tiny ribbon at the hip. Bold. Feminine. And dangerous. Wink.

I take one last look in the mirror.

Mhm. Sweet.

With that, I exit my bedroom and slip into Everett's.

He's fresh from the shower, rolling deodorant along his neck, a grey singlet and jean shorts on. He catches my reflection in the mirror and stills.

"Go sit on the bed," I command, my voice clear and crispy over the dull bass thumping from the party downstairs.