She didn’t think—she braced—
—and a hand came out of nowhere, slapping the shot aside midair.
The ball cannoned off the floor and pinwheeled into the sideline.
“Made it just in time,” said Kian, cheerful, breathless.
Whispers cracked open like ice. Barely suppressed snickering. Everyone was looking at him. And then, inevitably, at her.
Heat flooded Riya’s face.No. Not again.
“HEY!” Coach Reese bellowed: “You’re not supposed to be here!”
Kian ignored him, still smiling devotedly at her. Like they weren’t in the middle of a gym. Like there weren’t thirty other people watching this happen.
And now some of them were pulling out their phones.
“Kian,” said Riya as calmly as she could, “you’re interfering. I don’t need your help.”
“Maybe you don’t need it, but I want to.” Kian beamed before gesturing toward Quin. “You don’t like that kid, right? If you want, I can just beat them up for you.”
“I beg your pardon?” Quin called.
“Beg harder!” Kian yelled back.
The pressure behind Riya’s brows was mounting. “Kian, I appreciate you have good intentions, but—”
A red blur suddenly whizzed past Kian’s ear, cutting her off.
“Jesus!” Kian whirled around. “Are you trying to give someone a concussion?!”
“Game’s still going,” Quin sang.
“Can’t you see I’m trying toflirt?” Kian growled, grabbing a ball. He wound his arm and threw, hard.
Quin sidestepped. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“Get out of my class or I’m writing you up!” Coach shouted. “Everyone else, put your phones away!”
“Kian,” Riya hissed.
“I’ve got this,” he said, batting down another shot like it was nothing. “You don’t have to lift a finger. I’ll teach this kid a lesson.”
“That’s just Quin being Quin. Please, it’sfine.”
“Not to me.”
And then they were off—Quin and Kian trading fire in rapid succession, skidding, reloading. Quin moved like smoke, Kian like a border collie at an agility championship. Soon, their faces glistened with sweat, their ragged breathing audible over the cheers and shouts from the sidelines. Michael Woodward was laughing: “Kian’s fighting for Riya’s honor. Like the world’s shittiest knight.”
Riya’s throat ached. The longer this went, the bigger the story would get—Kian, the lovestruck fool, and Riya, his source of torment.
The last time there’d been rumors about her—the last time—
No. She had to stop this.Now.
Her fingers curled around the ball, nails digging into rubber. She lifted her arm, aimed—
And drilled it straight into the back of Kian’s head.
