This is a special chapter!! Hope you guys like it ❤️

Enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The sun beat down on the outdoor basketball court, casting long shadows across the asphalt. The rhythmic squeak of sneakers against the pavement and the occasional bounce of the ball filled the air, a soundtrack to the afternoon scrimmage. Isabella stood awkwardly beside Clara, feeling more like an observer at a foreign sporting event than a casual spectator.

Clara, however, seemed right at home. She cheered enthusiastically for every point scored, her voice rising above the general murmur of the crowd. Every few minutes, she'd lean over to Isabella, offering commentary on the game that went far beyond "that was a good shot."

"See how Liam fakes left but drives right? Classic move for a point guard."

"Ethan's got a wicked jump shot. Watch this!"

Isabella tried her best to follow along, nodding vaguely and offering the occasional "wow" or "cool." The truth was, her attention was less on the game itself and more on the figure moving with effortless grace across the court.

Ethan was everything she'd expected: tall, athletic, with a mop of sun-kissed hair that seemed to defy gravity. But there was more to him than just good looks. He moved with a quiet confidence, his focus laser-sharp as he navigated the court, seemingly anticipating every move of his opponents. The way he interacted with his teammates, with a playful banter and encouraging pats on the back, hinted at a genuine camaraderie that went beyond the game itself.

As the intensity of the scrimmage ramped up, so did the heat radiating from Isabella. She fanned herself with a crumpled napkin, the denim jacket suddenly feeling suffocating. Her gaze darted between Ethan and Clara, who seemed oblivious to her internal struggle.

Finally, a whistle blew, signaling the end of the quarter. Players dribbled the ball out, collapsing onto the court to catch their breath. This was her chance, the tiny voice in her head whispered.

"I, uh, I think I'm going to get some water," she stammered to Clara, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clara gave her a knowing look. "Sure, go ahead. I'll save you a spot."

Isabella nodded, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. With a deep breath, she navigated the edge of the court, her eyes scanning for Ethan. He was standing apart from the others, gulping down water from a plastic bottle, sweat clinging to his forehead.

Taking a deep breath, Isabella approached him, her stomach churning with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

"Hey," she blurted out before she could overthink it. "Good game."

Ethan turned, a surprised look crossing his features as his gaze met hers. A smile slowly spread across his face. "Hey there. You came to watch?"

"Yeah," Isabella stammered, "Clara dragged me along. But, uh, it was actually pretty good."

Ethan chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "Thanks. We just have some open scrimmages every now and then."

A moment of awkward silence followed. Isabella fidgeted with the strap of her bag, wondering what to say next. Just then, Liam jogged up to them, a playful grin on his face.

"Hey, Miller! Looks like you finally got yourself a fan here."

Isabella's cheeks flushed scarlet. "I wouldn't say that," she mumbled.

Ethan gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Liam's just messing around. So, what class do you have with Clara?"

A wave of relief washed over Isabella. This was it, a chance at a normal conversation. Steeling her nerves, she met his gaze and replied, "French Poetry. Professor Chang's torture chamber."

Ethan laughed, a genuine, lighthearted sound that sent shivers down her spine. "French Poetry? Sounds rough. Maybe I should sit in on a class sometime and offer some moral support."

Isabella's heart skipped a beat. Was he flirting with her? The thought sent a thrill of excitement through her. Maybe this afternoon, under the warm summer sun, had turned into something far more interesting than just watching a basketball game. Maybe it was the beginning of something special.