Dear Rival

{Chapter 17}

Tanya’s POV.

The cheers inside the Spark Academy gym hadn’t faded yet when the referee called the next match. The sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor, the smell of chalk and cold air, the bright lights above all of it made my pulse race again.

“Next challenger, Veronica Santos from 10-Azure!”

A tall girl with glossy black hair stepped forward. She smiled sweetly as she bowed to the referee, then turned to me with a sugary grin. “Hi Tanya, I’ve heard a lot about you. Let’s have a fun match, okay?”

Something in her tone didn’t sound friendly, but I nodded anyway. “Sure. Let’s keep it clean.”

The whistle blew.

At first everything followed the rules light strikes, quick dodges, the kind of safe sparring our P.E. teacher always reminded us about. Veronica moved fast but stiffly, as if she were more focused on looking graceful than landing points. I blocked one strike, stepped back, and heard the crowd react when she nearly tripped.

Her sweet smile cracked.

“Lucky,” she muttered.

We circled again. I waited for her next move, keeping my stance low. She lunged, I deflected, and the referee raised a flag in my favor. The crowd clapped.

Veronica’s grin disappeared completely.

Another round. This time she came in harder too hard. Her kick brushed my side, and the referee called a warning. She apologized with a small bow, but her eyes looked anything but sorry.

The next moment felt too quick to stop. She spun, the tip of her shoe connecting with my cheek before I could dodge. A dull shock ran through me. The gym gasped. I stumbled backward, a sting spreading across my face.

“Stop!” the referee shouted. “That’s a banned move!”

I touched my cheek, my fingers came away with a faint trace of red. The noise around me blurred. My breathing sounded louder than the crowd.

The referee’s whistle blew again, sharp and final. “Veronica Santos, disqualified for unsafe contact!”

For a heartbeat, Veronica didn’t move. Then her expression twisted. She marched toward me.

Shan’s POV.

The instant I saw Tanya fall, my chest tightened. I didn’t even think I just ran.

William reached her at the same time, helping her sit up. Her face was pale except for the bruise beginning to show on her cheek.

“Are you okay?” I asked, crouching beside her.

“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice wavered.

The referee tried to guide Veronica away, but she shoved past him. In two strides she grabbed Tanya’s hair. Tanya cried out.

Before I could move, Keisha was already there, yanking Veronica back by the hair. “Touch her again and I swear—”

“Keisha!” Jc pulled her aside, shielding her as teachers rushed in.

Aiden, Xian, Brent, and Ethan all stepped forward, forming a loose wall between the girls and the crowd.

“Enough!” Coach Reyes bellowed. The noise stopped instantly. Veronica froze as two referees led her toward the exit.

Tanya tried to stand but winced. I caught her before she could fall again.

“Don’t move,” I said quietly.

“I’m okay,” she insisted, even though her hands trembled.

The nurse hurried over with a small kit. “Clear some space, please.” Everyone stepped back while she checked Tanya’s cheek and the small cut near her nose.

“You’ll be fine, dear. Just a little bruise,” the nurse said kindly. She pressed a cold pack against Tanya’s face.

William hovered on her other side, worry etched across his expression. “You scared us, Tanya.”

She gave a tiny laugh. “I scared myself too.”

When the nurse finished, I stayed crouched beside her without realizing it. The gym was still noisy with whispers and cameras flashing, but all I could see was the bruise darkening on her cheek.

“You should rest,” I said.

She looked up at me, the corner of her mouth lifting into a tired smile. “Why? You worried, Villafuerte?”

I opened my mouth to deny it, but no words came out.

Her smile widened a little before she closed her eyes and leaned against the bench, the ice pack still pressed to her face.

For once, I didn’t argue. I just stayed there while the noise around us slowly faded into the background, pretending I wasn’t counting every quiet breath she took.

The gym smelled faintly of sweat and the polished wood floor. Students crowded near the ropes, still buzzing from Tanya’s match. She sat on the bench at the corner of the mat, a nurse pressing an ice pack gently against her cheek. From where I stood, I could see her pretending that it didn’t sting, laughing at something Keisha said, though her eyes looked tired.

William crouched beside her, saying something I couldn’t hear. She nodded and smiled weakly, and the sight twisted in my chest. I looked away quickly when the referee called my name.

“Villafuerte! Bautista! On deck!”

William turned, stretching his arms. “Guess it’s our turn,” he said lightly. He wasn’t smirking like usual just calm, confident. It almost annoyed me more than if he had teased me.

“Yeah. Let’s make it quick.” My tone came out sharper than I meant.

We stepped onto the mats. The noise in the gym swelled. Someone shouted, “Go, William!” and another voice

definitely Keisha yelled, “Come on, Shan!” Tanya looked up at the sound; our eyes met for a heartbeat before the whistle blew.

The match started with simple footwork

circling, testing distance. The rules were clear: light contact only, clean strikes, no hits to the head. But the air between us buzzed with something heavier than sport. Every time our fists met, it felt like we were measuring more than strength it was pride, irritation, and something unspoken.

William’s first kick grazed my side; I blocked and countered with a short jab. The crowd reacted with a collective “ohhh!” The referee warned, “Keep it controlled, boys!”

“Getting slow, Villafuerte,” William said under his breath.

“Worry about yourself,” I muttered, sweeping low. He stumbled back a step, recovered, then smiled a real smile this time.

Minutes passed in a blur of light strikes and dodges. Sweat clung to my temples; my breathing evened out. Across the mat, William looked the same

focused, composed. Neither of us wanted to back down.

When the whistle signaled a short break, I risked another glance at Tanya. She was standing now, ice pack still in hand, watching us. Her expression was unreadable half concern, half annoyance. Typical Tanya.

“You look distracted,” William said quietly as we waited to restart. “Still thinking about earlier?”

I shot him a glare. “Focus on the match.”

He chuckled. “Touchy.”