Watching me.
Different.
Because I know that look now.
She’s not observing me.
She’s measuring me.
Like she’s seeing something she didn’t expect.
Something she didn’t account for.
Something that… might matter.
My chest tightens.
And then—someone steps into her space.
Isa.
Boot still on.
Crutches gone.
But she’s standing.
Strong.
Close enough to Stella that it’s not an accident.
My jaw tightens.
Because I see it immediately?—
The contrast.
Isa—polished, put together, controlled.
Stella—raw, steady, unreadable.
And both of them?
Looking at me.
Like I’m the center of something I don’t want to be in right now.
Coach claps.
“Lock in!”
I turn back.
Run the next possession harder.
More aggressive.
Because I need distance.
