The classroom buzzed like a hive the moment the coach barged in. He was broad-shouldered, carrying a whistle and a clipboard, his voice filling every corner as though the walls were too small to contain it.
"Finals are here, listen up! Our class is competing against Grade 12B today. I don't want sloppiness. You've been practicing for weeks, show me you're worth the sweat."
At his side stood Jiang Cheng. Tall, straight-backed, every inch the perfect captain in his crisp red jersey, number 7 printed boldly across it. His hair was damp as if he'd already been warming up, a towel slung casually around his shoulders. He didn't need to say a word, the authority rolled off him just by existing.
An Ran sat in the back row, her glasses slipping slightly as she lowered her head over the open textbook on her lap. Business law notes, untouched. She flipped a page just to look busy. Around her, the classroom pulsed with energy, a wave of excitement she refused to get carried away with.
Lin Ruoyi and her underlings were in the middle aisle, squealing as they slipped on their fiery cheer uniforms, red-and-white skirts swishing, hair curled and sprayed until it gleamed. Their voices carried:
"Does this shade of lipstick look better? Or should I go brighter?"
"You're fine, Ruoyi, you look perfect."
They clustered like a jeweled crown, drawing every wandering glance. Already, phones were snapping selfies, filters glimmering.
Meanwhile, the boys changed into their basketball kits, joking, pumping each other up, tossing balls between desks. Some flexed for fun, others stretched with the solemnity of professionals. A few girls leaned closer, comparing whose shoulders were broader, whose jawline sharper.
The contrast was stark, An Ran, quiet as ever, invisible in her corner, and the rest of the class buzzing as if this were life or death.
"Alright!" the coach barked. "Cheerleaders, out. Players, out. The rest of you, keep up or I'll find you a job." His gaze swept the room like a hawk.
An Ran felt her breath hitch. Please not me. Please.
"—You."
Her head jerked up. The coach's finger was pointed straight at her.
"You've been staring at that book long enough. You'll be our water girl. Don't drag your feet."
The class rippled with snickers. Lin Ruoyi's lips curled into a smirk as she adjusted her bow. "Perfect. Even bookworms can be useful."
Heat crawled up An Ran's neck. She wanted to vanish into the floor, but there was no escape. With stiff movements, she packed her notebook away, trailing after the flood of red jerseys and swishing skirts.
---
The gymnasium was nothing short of dazzling.
Rows upon rows of seats filled with students, banners of red and black waving high, the air alive with chants and whistles. The court gleamed under the bright overhead lights, polished wood reflecting every movement. The scoreboard loomed above, empty for now but waiting.
An Ran froze just inside the doorway. The sheer noise of it all made her chest tighten. Cheers thundered, sneakers squeaked against the court, whistles cut through the din. She clutched the pack of water bottles tighter, knuckles whitening.
The cheer squad was already in formation at the sidelines, pom-poms flashing as they practiced their first chant. Lin Ruoyi stood front and center, makeup flawless, her smile sharp as glass. Every head turned when she twirled, soaking up the attention like sunlight.
And then, Jiang Cheng.
He strode onto the court with his team, shoulders squared, every movement drawing the eye. The crowd's cheers surged, girls squealing his name from the stands. He didn't acknowledge them. His gaze was sharp, focused solely on the game ahead. For a moment, he looked untouchable.
An Ran, standing awkwardly at the edge of the bench, felt her stomach twist. The jerseys clung to the players' frames, red numbers vivid against the fabric, their faces flushed with determination. The seriousness on their expressions made it seem like this wasn't a high school game but the championship of a lifetime.
"Water." One of the boys snapped his fingers at her.
Startled, she hurried forward, nearly stumbling as she handed him a bottle. The laughter from the stands burned against her ears.
She ducked her head, returning quickly to her post, invisible once again.
---
The whistle blew.
The game was fast, fierce, bodies colliding as sneakers squealed across the wood. The crowd's screams rose and fell with every shot. An Ran tried to focus on keeping the bottles aligned, but her eyes betrayed her, again and again, they sought out the number 7 darting across the court.
Jiang Cheng was magnetic.
Every time the ball left his hands, it felt inevitable. His focus was razor-sharp, his smirk appearing when he outmaneuvered the opposing captain, his tall frame cutting through defense like it was nothing.
At one point, he landed a clean three-pointer, and the gym erupted. His teammates slapped his back, the crowd chanting his name. Jiang Cheng only tilted his head, sweat dampening his temple, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes flicked briefly, just briefly, toward the sidelines.
Toward her.
An Ran's breath caught. She gripped the water bottles tighter, cheeks burning. It was stupid. He wasn't looking at her. Why would he?
Still… it felt like he was.
---
Halftime.
The team gathered, panting, wiping sweat, gulping down the water she handed out. She kept her eyes low, her fingers trembling slightly each time someone reached out.
And then Jiang Cheng was there, looming closer than she expected, his shadow stretching over her.
She flinched when he took a bottle, only to watch as he brushed it off the crate with his fingertips, letting it roll toward her like he couldn't be bothered to grab it himself.
Her hand darted out, fumbling to pick it up. "Ah... sorry, here... "
He smirked down at her, taking it from her hand this time. "Relax. Don't drop it next time." His voice was low, casual, but threaded with that edge of superiority he always carried.
Heat surged up her neck again. She muttered something incoherent, staring firmly at the ground.
By the time she dared glance up, he was already walking back, head tilting to listen to his coach's directions as though she hadn't existed at all.
An Ran exhaled shakily, heart drumming against her ribs.
This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.
And yet, when the second half began, her gaze followed him again.