Falling For Number Nineteen

Charles' POV The crowd was chanting my name. "CHARLIE!" "CHARLIE!" "CHARLIE!" The noise shook the entire arena. Sweat dripped down my face as I dribbled the ball near the three-point line. The scoreboard above the court flashed the remaining seconds. 12 seconds. We were down by one. The opposing team's captain spread his arms and blocked my path. The i***t looked nervous. Good. I would be too if I had to guard myself. The gym erupted when I made my move. One crossover. Then another. The defender stumbled. The crowd screamed. I stepped back behind the arc. Released the ball. And watched it fly. Swish. The buzzer sounded. The arena exploded. My teammates rushed me before my feet even touched the floor. "CAPTAIN!" "LET'S GO!" "THAT'S MY MVP!" I laughed as someone nearly tackled me to the ground. Another day, another win. Another reminder of why Kingswell University was ranked number one in the nation. And why everyone expect us to win the National Championship in four months. "Show-off." I turned and saw Paul approaching. The i***t was grinning. His gray hair was soaked with sweat. His jersey number fifteen gleamed beneath the arena lights. "You could've passed the ball." I scoffed. "You would've missed." Paul placed a hand over his chest. You wound me." You'll survive." He laughed. The crowd continued cheering as we headed toward the locker room. Students lined both sides of the hallway. Phones flashed. Girls screamed. Someone tried handing me flowers. Another girl shoved a piece of paper into my hand before running away. I didn't need to open it. Phone number. Again. Paul leaned closer. "You know, one day you'll have to stop breaking hearts." "I didn't ask them to fall in love." "That's exactly what a heartbreaker would say." I rolled my eyes. Being famous sounded fun until it actually happened. Most people saw the victories. The trophies. The interviews. The expensive cars. They didn't see the endless cameras. The expectations. The pressure. The fact that every mistake became national news. By the time we entered the locker room, my mood had already improved. Winning always did that. Coach Reynolds stood near the whiteboard. The second he saw me, he pointed. "Charles." I knew that tone. It was the same tone teachers used before giving homework. I immediately didn't like it. "What?" "Office." Paul made an exaggerated gasp. "Ooooh." I ignored him. Coach didn't. "You too, Paul." The grin disappeared from Paul's face. Now it was my turn to laugh. A few minutes later, both of us sat across from Coach in his office. Something felt off. The man looked serious. Too serious. He tossed a newspaper onto the desk. It landed directly in front of me. I looked down. Then immediately wished I hadn't. The headline occupied almost half the page. BASKETBALL BAD BOY CHARLES HARRISON SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY WOMAN AGAIN I closed my eyes. For the love of— Paul burst into laughter. Coach pointed at him." Stop." That only made him laugh harder.I picked up the newspaper. The photo showed me leaving a charity gala. A blonde woman stood beside me. The article made it look romantic. The reality? She had tripped on the stairs.I had caught her before she fell. That was it. That was literally it. But apparently journalists had decided we were secretly dating. I dropped the paper. "This is ridiculous." Coach nodded. "I agree." "Then why am I here?" Coach folded his arms. "Because sponsors don't agree." That caught my attention. Paul's laughter faded. The room suddenly became quiet. Coach leaned forward. "Charles, do you know how much money your endorsement deal is worth?" I shrugged." A lot?" "Several million." Okay. Now I was listening, Coach continued. "Those companies don't just invest in talent." I already knew where this was going. And I hated it." They invest in image." There it was. Image. The word every athlete hated. The word responsible for more headaches than injuries. I leaned back in my chair. "So what exactly do they want?" Coach sighed. "A stable public relationship."Silence. Then—I laughed. Nobody joined me. Slowly, my smile disappeared." Oh, you're serious." "Very."I looked at Paul. He looked just as entertained as Coach. Traitor. "No." Coach blinked." No?" "No." Coach leaned back. "Charles." "No."" At least hear me out." "No." Paul was trying very hard not to laugh. I pointed at him. "You laugh one more time, and I'll make sure you run laps until graduation." That finally shut him up. Coach rubbed his temples. "You need a girlfriend." "There it is." "A fake girlfriend." At least "There it is again." Paul snorted. I threw a basketball at him. He barely caught it." Watch it." "Then stop enjoying this." Coach waited until we stopped arguing. Then he spoke. "The National Championship is four months away."I nodded. "Okay." "Your birthday is the day after." Another nod. "Okay." "NBA scouts are already watching." My expression became serious. "Okay." "The media is watching." I sighed." Okay." "The sponsors are watching." I cursed under my breath. Coach pointed at me. "Exactly." I hated when he made sense. The championship meant everything. Not just to me. To the team. To the university. To the thousands of fans expecting us to bring home another title. One mistake could cost millions. One scandal could ruin years of work. I hated it. But I understood it. Coach stood. "Think about it." "I'm not agreeing." "I didn't ask you to." "Good." "I'm asking you to think." That was somehow worse. A few minutes later, Paul and I left the office. The afternoon sun greeted us outside. Students filled the campus. Some rushed to classes. Others sat beneath the giant oak trees scattered around Kingswell University. One thing never changed. The attention. The moment people noticed me, whispers followed. Phones appeared. Pictures were taken. Normal. Unfortunately. Paul nudged my shoulder. "So." "No." "You don't even know what I was going to say." "Yes, I do." He grinned. "You'd look cute in a relationship." I considered pushing him into a fountain. Then something unusual caught my eye. Near the library steps stood a girl. A book rested against her chest. Her head remained lowered as she walked. Unlike everyone else around her, she wasn't staring at me. Wasn't taking pictures. Wasn't whispering. Wasn't trying to get my attention. She looked completely uninterested. Strange. Before I could think more about it, another girl rushed toward her. For a moment, I froze. Because they looked exactly alike. Same face. Same height. Same smile. Twins? One of them laughed at something. The other rolled her eyes. Then both disappeared into the library. I blinked. "What?" Paul followed my gaze. But they were already gone. "Nothing." For some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about them. Especially the quiet one. The girl with the book. The girl who hadn't even looked at me. Little did I know... Four months. One contract. And one very dangerous mistake... Were about to change my entire life.