Chapter 5 Rematches and Rumors

DENZEL'S POV

Rule #16: If people start talking, give them nothing to hold onto.

By Friday, the whispers had grown legs.

Apparently, sharing an umbrella meant I was either dating Basti, seducing Luke, or plotting to destroy the entire Mater Carmeli varsity team from within.

Opinions varied. None of them were true.

I kept my head down. Ate lunch in the library. Refused to look twice when girls giggled as I passed.

Still, the energy had shifted. It wasn't just about the tournament anymore. Something else had cracked open, and people were watching to see what spilled out.

"Why don't you just come out and say you like the attention?" Hannah said, thumbing through a stack of glossy fliers. "The drama. The mystery. You're a walking plot twist."

"I'm a chess general."

"You're a girl who beat their golden girl. And then caught the attention of two of their players. That's legend behavior."

Rheiza chimed in from across the table, "Also, your rematch with Bia just got scheduled. Although not yet final."

My spine straightened. "When?"

"Three weeks from now. Our school's hosting."

That fast.

Three weeks to prepare. Three weeks to keep my game sharp. Three weeks before I saw Isidro again. And maybe...

No.

Rule #17: Never assume someone will show up for you twice.

-

After school, Coach pulled me aside. He didn't smile often, but when he did, it was never for no reason.

"You know what this win means, right?" he asked.

"Yes, Coah."

"It means scholarship scouts are watching. Especially now that finals will be held here."

I nodded. My throat felt dry.

He leaned in, tone quieter. "It also means you've got a target on your back. Stay sharp, Ramos. Your reputation's growing faster than your defense game."

I nodded again, this time slower.

A target.

It wasn't paranoia. It was truth.

And I planned to stay two moves ahead.

-

BASTI'S POV

The problem with curiosity is it doesn't go away just because you tell it to.

We were halfway through drills when Biatrice stalked across the court like she was preparing to serve heads instead of volleyballs.

"Your girl's going viral," she said, dropping her gym bag by the bleachers.

"She's not my anything," I said.

"She's trending in our school forums. Some people are betting she'll crush me again at finals."

I paused. "Are you worried?"

She scowled. "I'm annoyed. She got lucky."

"She was strategic."

"Whatever. Just remember. If you get distracted and we lose another exhibition match, I'm blaming your chess crush."

I didn't answer. Because part of me wanted her to say it again.

Chess crush.

Was that what this was?

Luke raised an eyebrow from across the net. I shook my head. No, not now.

That night, I checked the school forums. She was everywhere.

Clips of her match. Screenshots of her staring down Biatrice. A meme of her quote from the match: "I didn't come here to play nice. I came here to end her."

I smirked.

She really was something.

-

DENZEL'S POV

Three weeks. That was all the time I had to double down, train harder, and shut everything else out.

So why did my focus keep slipping?

Why did my pen hover in the margin of my notebook, sketching an umbrella? Or a hand extended across a board? Or a pair of unreadable eyes?

No. Stop.

Rule #18: Daydreams don't earn trophies.

I erased the drawing. And rewrote my prep schedule.

Chess first. Everything else, especially boys with quiet smiles and messy hair. could wait.