Later, at the basketball court, tension crackled like static.
Emory's team—rivals to Zidane's—faced off in a brutal match. Cheers echoed. Aurora sat with Emory's team, trying to blend into the noise.
Nova flopped beside her, sunglasses on like it was a beach day. "Really, Rory? Sitting with the enemy?"
Aurora snorted. "It's not war, it's a game."
"Sure, and you're just here to support Emory's... shorts," Nova teased.
"I'm here because this bench is shady and comfortable."
Nova leaned closer, whispering, "Admit it. You sat here so Zidane would see you when he scores. Or misses."
Aurora rolled her eyes. "I always choose the winning team."
Nova sipped her soda like it was tea. "Girl, your lipstick is sending mixed signals. That's 'don't talk to me' red, but you're staring like it's a rom-com finale."
"I'm observing. For research."
Nova gasped dramatically. "You're not in a lab coat, you're in a crop top! This is emotional science!"
Aurora chuckled. "He's just... there."
"There?" Nova snorted. "That man's a walking plot twist."
"I don't even care if he sees me."
Nova grinned. "But if he does, you want him to regret every decision he made in 2020."
Aurora grinned back. "Exactly."
Nova bumped her shoulder. "Just don't trip walking past him, drama queen."
"I'll trip him instead."
Victory came swift with a perfect final spike. Emory hugged her, casually too close.
"There's a party tonight," he said. "You should come."
She paused, then nodded with a coy smile.
From across the court, Zidane watched. Silent. Intense.
He walked up to her after the game.
"How's the game?" he asked.
"You're playing well," she said calmly.
He smirked faintly. "Not more than you."
She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Why did you sit with the opposite team?" he asked.
Aurora folded her arms. "I always choose the winning team. And it's my choice, Zidane. You don't control that. You can't ruin my life—or my decisions."
He gave a soft chuckle. "Yeah… I leave. Smiling in low spirits."
Her gaze softened. "Did I do something wrong?"
But before he could answer, Nova rushed in.
"Aurora! Party tonight?"
"No, Nova. I've got work," Aurora said.
"Oh come on! I don't have anyone else to go with!"
Aurora sighed. "Okay, okay… I'll come."
That night, the venue buzzed. Nova was already giggling with a drink in hand.
"Just a little, Nova," Aurora whispered. "You get wild."
"Don't worry, sweetheart," Nova winked. "No apple-cider poison tonight."
Aurora laughed.
Across the room, Zidane entered like a quiet explosion. His presence demanded space. She watched him approach Emory. A handshake. A smirk. They knew each other?
Her heart beat faster.
Later, as she stirred a cocktail by the bar, she sensed him near.
She looked up. He was there.
Their eyes locked. The noise faded.
"You wore this dress to distract me?" he said softly.
"Or maybe to remember me," she replied.
Zidane leaned in, voice like velvet. "Don't pretend you didn't think about last night."
Her breath caught, lips parting before her thoughts could. He was too close, too calm—like he knew the effect he had on her.
"I did," she whispered.