The words hit Kamsi like a slap to the face. Her knees wobbled beneath her, her heart threatening to crack in two. "No, Mom, no!" she cried, stepping back, her voice shaking with desperation. "Xavier isn't like that, he's not…"
Her mother's face twisted in anger, her voice trembling with raw emotion. "Wait until he gets what he wants. Then you'll see, Kamsi. You'll see that it was never real. Trust me, I learned that the hard way. Don't make the same mistakes I did."
Kamsi's chest felt tight, her breath coming in short, jagged bursts. Her eyes were wild, pleading. "No, Mom, you're wrong! Xavier is different. You don't understand. He's not like that—he cares about me. He… he—" Her voice faltered, but she kept her ground. "Stop defending him!" Her mother's voice shattered through the room, cutting through Kamsi's words like a blade. "You're still so young, Kamsi. You have your whole life ahead of you. Why would you throw it away over some boy who doesn't care about you? Why would you destroy everything for him?"
Kamsi's sobs filled the room, her hands shaking as she reached out to her mother. "Mom, please… don't say that. Xavier isn't like the others. I swear, he's not like the boys you're thinking about. I need you to trust me."
But Mrs. Chibuike just turned away, her back to her daughter, her shoulders trembling as if holding back tears of her own. Kamsi's heart broke all over again. She couldn't stop herself—she rushed forward, her hands clutching at her mother's sleeve.
"Please, Mom. I love him," Kamsi's voice broke, fragile and desperate. "Please. Can't you see? He's not like that."
But her mother didn't answer. She stood still, her back rigid, her face hidden from Kamsi's pleading gaze. The room felt colder now, the distance between them stretching further than it had ever been before. Kamsi collapsed onto the couch, her body wracked with quiet sobs. The silence in the room was suffocating. Her mother's refusal to speak was the hardest thing to bear.
Kamsi's heart felt torn between two worlds—her mother's fear, and her own deep, unshakable feelings for Xavier. She wasn't sure where this would go, or what would happen next, but the weight of her mother's rejection, her cold silence, threatened to break her. *I wish she could understand.*
The ache in Kamsi's chest wasn't just from the fight—it was from the realization that love, no matter how true or real it felt, couldn't always win.
Back at the court,Damon burst through the court's sideline, still panting from the game, jersey damp with sweat and hair slightly tousled. The crowd's cheer was still ringing when he found her—Zendaya, standing near the bleachers, arms folded, pretending not to look as relieved as she felt.
Without warning, he swept her into a hug, his arms firm and warm against her tense frame. And then—he kissed her.
Right there. In front of everyone.
Her brain short-circuited.
His lips were on hers. Was this real? Was he seriously doing this? In public?
The cheerleaders gasped. A few even groaned—either in envy or drama-induced agony.
_Great,_her inner voice hissed. _Now his entire fan club and possibly his mom knows I exist._
As if summoned by her thoughts, Damon broke the kiss with a smug grin and pulled out his phone, flashing the screen at her. "Say hi," he said breathlessly.
There it was. His mom's name, bold on a FaceTime call.
Zendaya blinked, dazed. "You're joking."
His mom waved excitedly on the tiny screen. "I saw that, Damon!"
"Later, Mom," he laughed, swiping the call off with the cockiest grin imaginable. He turned back to Zendaya, who was still half-blushing, half-glowering at him.
"You enjoyed the game?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
She exhaled, crossing her arms tighter just to ground herself. "You nailed it out there," she admitted, trying not to smile.
"That's 'cause my lucky charm was watching." He leaned in closer, eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know it's you, right?"
Her breath hitched, and she hated the way her stomach flipped. "You're full of crap," she muttered, giving his chest a shove.
He barely budged. "Yeah, but I'm your crap."
"You wish."
He chuckled, and before she could stop him—or herself—he leaned in again, slower this time, giving her heart just enough time to race before his lips caught hers once more. The world didn't matter then. Not the stares. Not the whispers.
Just her. Just him. Just Zemon.
"Xavier, this calls for a double celebration," Mr. Alastair said, his rare smile creasing the sharp lines of his face. But then, just as quickly, the mood shifted.
"Why don't you come over? Let's have a celebratory dinner."
Xavier paused for a split second, the image of his father's meticulously polished home flashing through his mind. He could already feel the tightness in his chest, the way silence would stretch between clinks of silverware—every smile forced, every toast laced with subtext. The bitterness of the wine would be nothing compared to the dryness in his throat.
"Maybe some other time," Xavier replied smoothly, his tone careful. "The team already has a celebration planned."
Mr. Alastair nodded, his expression neutral but his eyes betraying something more—hope, flickering and fleeting, just beneath the surface.
"Okay then. Enjoy yourself." His voice, warm but distant, held a touch of resignation, though it was barely noticeable.
"Can I come with?" Jade's voice rang out, hopeful curiosity in her tone as she looked up at Xavier with wide, bright eyes.
Before Xavier could respond, Mr. Alastair chuckled, waving it off with a dismissive gesture.
"Oh come on, Jade. He won't have time to babysit you while he's out with his friends."
But Xavier surprised them both.
"Sure, you can."
Silence hung in the air for a beat. Even Mr. Alastair blinked, his brow furrowing as if he couldn't quite process the shift.
It wasn't much—a simple sentence—but to Xavier, it felt monumental. There, in that small moment, he'd crossed a line he never thought he'd approach. His father stared at him, the mask of casual indifference slipping just a fraction, as shock mingled with something else—something rare that softened the sharp angles of his face: gratitude.
"Thanks, bro!" Jade beamed, practically throwing herself at Xavier. But he instinctively stepped back, the familiar discomfort curling in his chest. The small frown that tugged at his lips was gone in an instant, but it had been there, just a whisper of emotion he quickly erased.
Jade caught herself mid-motion, laughing it off awkwardly.
"Okay, not a hugger," she teased, her voice light, but the joy in her eyes couldn't be dimmed. Not tonight.