I sit there in the dim light, the dress pooled on the floor like evidence.
This isn’t high school drama.
This isn’t just boys flirting.
This is NIL contracts.
Scholarships.
Future draft picks.
Reputation.
And somehow I let myself get caught in the middle like I didn’t know what fire feels like.
The texts keep coming.
From teammates.
From people I don’t even know.
From numbers saved under “???”.
Are you actually dating both?
Is it real?
Is it open?
Are you cheating?
My face burns again.
I didn’t come here to be a headline.
I didn’t come here to be a rumor.
I came here to play volleyball.
And tonight?
I’m in way over my head.
There’s only one way to regain control.
Pull back.
From both of them.
Before this gets uglier.
