Stacey’s POV:
The week leading up to the interstate game moved in a blur of adrenaline and whispered prayers.
Noah's injury had finally healed completely. The limp that once accompanied every step was gone, replaced by a fierce determination that shimmered in his eyes every time he walked into practice.
That Monday, he sent me a video of himself sprinting full-court, finishing with a perfect layup. My heart soared watching it. He looked strong again. Free. Hungry.
We'd built this secret world together, one made of quiet evenings, stolen kisses, and hidden smiles, but this? This was his world. The court. The noise. The roar of the crowd. And now, he was ready to reclaim it.
Every evening that week, he'd train till sweat soaked through his shirt. He'd call me after, sometimes too tired
