Chapter 2 TWO

At 5:12 the next morning, I was wide awake, staring at the ceiling and wondering how I had managed to become so miserable in an apartment I had only moved into the day before. By 5:14, I had already decided that I hated the place, and at 5:17, I remembered that I had chosen it myself, which somehow made everything worse.

I lay flat on my back while my alarm clock continued glowing accusingly from the bedside table. Today was my first official training session with the city team, the team I had spent three years trying to get into. They had rejected me the first time, only to offer me a spot after my performance at the regional championships last season, and now that I had finally made it here, there was no room for nerves.

Unfortunately, my stomach had clearly not received that memo.

I climbed out of bed, pulled on my training clothes, and tied my hair into a tight ponytail before opening my bedroom door. I found Mia sitting on the kitchen counter, eating cereal directly from the box as though waking up before sunrise was the most normal thing in the world.

She looked up when she saw me. “You’re awake.”

“It’s five in the morning.”

“Exactly.”

“Why are you awake?”

She shrugged. “I like watching people suffer.”

“Good to know.”

She held the cereal box toward me. “Breakfast?”

“No.”

“You’ll regret that.”

“I won’t.”

She gave me a knowing look. “You’re going to regret that.”

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting beside her and eating cereal, because apparently Mia knew my body better than I did.

“I hate that you were right,” I muttered.

“I know.”

We left the apartment just after six, and by then, the city was already awake. Buses crowded the roads, coffee shops were opening their doors, and joggers moved along the sidewalks with headphones in, completely oblivious to everyone around them.

I loved mornings like this. There was something comforting about being surrounded by people who were all going somewhere, each of them carrying their own plans and problems as they moved through the beginning of another day.

Mia nudged me with her elbow.

“Stop looking terrified.”

“I’m not terrified.”

“You’ve been checking the same building for thirty seconds.”

“I’m observing.”

“You’re panicking.”

“I am not.”

She smiled. “You are.”

We eventually reached the training facility, and the nerves I had managed to suppress during the drive came rushing back. The building was enormous, with glass walls stretching across the front and the team logo displayed prominently above the entrance.

I stopped without meaning to.

Mia bumped into my back. “Why did you stop?”

“I just…” I swallowed and looked at the building again. “This is real.”

She smiled. “Yes. It is.”

I took a breath and walked inside.

The receptionist directed me toward the locker room, where I found my assigned locker near the end of the row. My name was already printed on the little metal plate, and seeing it there did something strange to my chest.

I ran my fingers over the letters.

MAYA BENNETT.

For years, I had imagined what it would feel like to see my name in a place like this, and now I was standing in front of it with my training bag hanging from my shoulder.

“Maya?”

I turned to find a tall girl with braided hair standing behind me. She smiled and held out her hand.

“I’m Tessa.”

I recognized her immediately. Tessa Morgan was a starting forward and one of the best players on the team.

“Hi.”

I shook her hand.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Everyone looks terrified on their first day.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Extremely.”

I laughed, and some of the tension in my shoulders finally eased.

Within ten minutes, I had met half the team. Some players were friendly and introduced themselves properly, while others barely looked at me, but one girl in particular kept watching me with an expression that suggested she had already decided she didn’t like me.

I tried not to take it personally, at least not yet.

Then the coach walked in.

“Everyone on the court.”

The atmosphere in the room changed immediately. Conversations stopped, shoes squeaked against the floor, and the joking disappeared as everyone moved toward the court.

This was no longer orientation. This was work.

The first hour was brutal. We went through sprints, defensive drills, passing, shooting, and even more sprints until my lungs were burning and my legs felt heavy. Instead of resenting it, I welcomed the exhaustion because this was familiar territory, the part of being here that I understood better than anything else.

During the scrimmage, I caught the ball near the three-point line, faked left, and drove past the defender before taking a shot. The ball dropped cleanly through the net.

“Nice.”

I turned at the sound of the voice behind me and didn’t recognize him immediately. Then I did.

Ethan stood at the edge of the court, wearing the team’s training jacket.

I blinked. “What are you doing here?”

He grinned. “I work here.”

“You never mentioned that.”

“You never asked.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

Fair.

He glanced toward the court. “You’re good.”

“Thank you.”

“Your left side is stronger.”

My eyebrows rose. “You’ve been watching?”

“Everyone watches on the first day.”

“That’s creepy.”

He laughed. “Maybe.”

Before I could say anything else, Coach called my name, and I turned back toward the court. When I looked toward the sideline again a few moments later, Ethan was gone.

I tried not to think about it, but that didn’t work nearly as well as I would have liked.

After training, I sat on the locker room bench with an ice pack pressed against my knee while Tessa dropped down beside me.

“You’re fast.”

“Thanks.”

“Coach noticed.”

“That’s good.”

She smiled. “Very.”

I was about to ask what she meant when my phone buzzed.

Mia: Ethan said you’re terrible.

I stared at the message for a second before another one appeared.

Mia: I’m kidding. He said you were impressive.

I rolled my eyes and typed back.

Me: Tell him I don’t care what he thinks.

Her reply came almost instantly.

Mia: Liar.

I shoved my phone into my bag and finished getting ready.

When I stepped outside, I found someone leaning against the wall near the entrance. I recognized him before he even looked up because I had spent enough time watching game footage to know exactly who he was.

He was wearing the team’s black training uniform, and everything about him—the dark hair, the confident posture, and the way he carried himself—made it obvious that he was accustomed to being noticed.

I stopped walking when his eyes met mine.

For a second, his expression was completely unreadable.

Then he smiled.

“You’re Maya.”

I nodded. “And you’re…”

“Adrian.”

The name clicked immediately.

I had heard it before, and everyone on the team seemed to know it. Adrian Cole was the team’s star player and my biggest competition for the starting position. I had watched videos of him before coming here, studying the way he played. He was fast, smart, aggressive, and apparently very aware of how good he was.

“You played well today,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“You’re quick.”

“So I’ve been told.”

His mouth twitched.

“Confident too.”

“I try.”

He pushed away from the wall and studied me for another moment.

“Good.”

There was something about the way he looked at me that made me feel as though I were being assessed rather than judged, as if he were trying to figure out exactly what I could do and whether I would be a problem for him.

Then he held out his hand.

“Welcome to the team.”

I shook it, immediately noticing that his grip was warm and firm. He didn’t let go right away, and for a second, neither of us moved.

Then someone shouted his name from across the parking lot, breaking whatever strange moment had settled between us.

He released my hand.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

He walked away, and I watched him for a second longer than I should have.

“Don’t.”

I jumped and turned to find Tessa standing behind me.

“Don’t what?”

She smiled. “Nothing.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What?”

“Adrian is trouble.”

“Why?”

“Because every girl who meets him thinks she’s the exception.”

I laughed. “I’m not interested.”

“Good.”

She started walking, and I followed.

“Why did you say that?”

She glanced at me.

“Because I like you.”

I smiled. “That’s nice.”

“And because you’re living with his best friend.”

I stopped walking.

“What?”

Tessa turned around.

“Adrian and Ethan have known each other forever.”

My stomach did a strange little flip.

“Oh.”

“Exactly.”

She continued walking, leaving me to catch up.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted. Mia was sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who had not spent the morning being tortured by a basketball coach.

“How was your first day?”

“Good.”

“Just good?”

I dropped onto the couch. “Really good.”

She smiled. “I knew you’d do well.”

I reached for some popcorn before casually mentioning, “Your brother works at the training facility.”

She looked at me. “Yeah.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t think it mattered.”

“It matters.”

“Why?”

I hesitated because, unfortunately, I didn’t have a good answer. Instead, I grabbed another handful of popcorn and shrugged.

“Forget it.”

Mia smiled knowingly, and I immediately hated that smile.

Before she could say anything, my phone buzzed.

The number was unfamiliar.

I opened the message.

You don’t know the city as well as you think you do.

The smile disappeared from my face as I stared at the screen.

A second message appeared.

But you’ll learn.

I looked toward the window.

The city lights flickered below us, and for a moment, everything felt perfectly normal again. Then I noticed a figure standing across the street, completely still and facing our building.

I blinked.

The person was gone.

“Maya?”

I looked at Mia.

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

I locked my phone and forced myself to look away from the window.

“Yeah.”

But I wasn’t sure that was true. Something about the messages, the figure outside, and the strange feeling that had settled over me made one thing increasingly difficult to ignore: my fresh start wasn’t going to be as simple as I’d hoped.