π•π•π•π•π JORDAN’S POV π•π•π•π•π
Sara was already yanking her ponytail tighter, eyes sharp.
“It’s our turn. The boys lost by one goal. Let’s go show those bitches who we are,” she clapped, the sound cracking through the hallway.
She was back.
I exhaled. The soda can in my hand dented under my grip.
The boys lost by one goal, which meant Alex lost. Which meant he was probably in that locker room right now, replaying every missed shot in his head.
“Fine. War it is.” I crushed the can and tossed it.
The court doors slammed open and the noise hit us like a wave. The LEA crowd was quiet.
But Angela’s team hadn’t died down. Wonderful.
One good thing about her: she was relentless.
Ashfort’s side was loud and smug, their blue-gold banners waving like they had already won.
Their cheerlea
