SEVEN
1518 Words
Annabel’s POV
I wasn’t stalking him.
Okay—maybe it looked like that from the outside, but in my defense, it was just strategic curiosity. After the incident, all everyone could talk about was Justin. Every other message was about him—clips, photos, stats, and way too many heart emojis.
Still, I paid attention. Every bit of information might help me hold a proper conversation the next time we cross paths, if there is a next time.
I even did some homework. Real research. Stats, match recaps, player positions. I spent a solid two hours watching replays on YouTube until I could confidently say things like “he’s got a solid mid-range jumper” without sounding like a complete i***t.
So when Caleb walked up to me near the quad the next day and said, “Hey, Annabel, I’ve got a favor to ask,” I nearly choked on my smoothie. I couldn't believe I ran into Caleb, and he was talking to me in public casually like we were some long-time friends. With his usual polite smile, which made all the girls blush and giggle. I took another look at him. Caleb wasn't bad-looking; he was just as attractive, but he always stood beside Justin, who stole all the spotlight and dimmed him a little. Still, I could notice some girls staring at us and whispering some things to themselves, probably wondering why Caleb was talking to the weird girl that no one ever talked to.
Caleb explained that Justin was still in the hospital and that the team doctor had basically ghosted him, which shocked me. How could a doctor ghost his own patient, and not just any patient but Justin, the star player? I was baffled and found it a little hard to believe. He went on to say how he could really use someone to check in.
Someone like me. I blinked twice at the realization, knowing this was another opportunity to get closer to Justin. This was my second chance.
I didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah. I’ll go.”
Did I sound too eager? Probably. But I didn’t care. This was a second chance. And I wasn’t going to waste it awkwardly staring at the floor this time. Caleb's face brightened, and he took my hand and thanked me before leaving, making me raise a brow at him. I had only met him once, and he was acting too friendly and familiar with me. I shrugged and walked in the opposite direction, thinking of how I could turn this situation around in my favor.
When I walked into his hospital room later that day, Justin was sitting upright, scrolling absently on his phone, the bandage on his hand still fresh. He looked up when I entered—and this time, he didn’t look away.
“Hey,” I said, smiling softly. “I heard your team doctor ditched you. Rude.” I threw at him with a kind smile, trying to initiate a conversation immediately, not wanting it to be as awkward as the last time.
He smiled, a little crooked and a little tired. “Yeah. Guess I’m not a priority anymore, " he replied smoothly, making my smile wider. He said more than two words now, which was new and a major improvement. He didn't sound dry or uninterested this time.
“You’re a priority to your fans,” I replied before I could stop myself. “They’re still obsessing over your last three-pointer.”
His brows lifted slightly. “You’re in the fan club?” he sounded surprised.
“No. I mean, not technically. I just… saw the posts. I was curious.” I replied, trying not to come out as weird.
He looked like he was about to ask more, so I deliberately took the chance to steer the conversation.
“I watched some of your older games,” I said as I moved closer to the bed, pulling the chair toward me. “The one against Clearwater? That was insane. You dropped what, thirty-two points?”
He blinked. “Thirty-four.”
I smiled. “Right. And you basically won that game in the fourth quarter.”
He leaned back, a spark of something flickering in his eyes—pride, maybe. Or surprise. “You watched that?” He sounded more impressed than surprised now. I tried to hide my smirk. This was going well.
“Of course. I wanted to see what all the hype was about.” I tilted my head. “Turns out, you kind of live up to it.”
He let out a small laugh. “Most people just say I’m cocky and leave it at that.” He said, shrugging casually.
“Maybe they just don’t know how to ask the right questions.”
He looked at me for a moment, like he was trying to figure out if I meant it. Then he said, “That game was wild. We were trailing by eight with two minutes left. Coach thought we were cooked. But I don’t know—something hit me, and I just couldn’t miss.”
As he spoke, his whole posture changed. He looked more relaxed and open. He wasn’t just tolerating my presence now. He was engaged, telling stories, and smiling for real.
“I saw the last shot,” I said quietly. “You looked so calm. Like you already knew it was going in.”
“I did,” he said, with a confidence that somehow didn’t feel arrogant at all. Just… certain. “Sometimes you just know.”
I nodded, my fingers brushing the corner of my sleeve. “Well, it was kind of amazing. You’re amazing.”
The words slipped out before I could catch them, and instantly, my brain screamed at me too much, too soon. His eyes widened for a moment, and I held my breath.
Justin’s POV
I wasn’t expecting her to talk about basketball.
Honestly, I thought she’d stop showing up altogether. I’d basically shut her down the last time she was here—not on purpose, but because that’s how I deal with people when I don’t know what to do with them.
But when Annabel walked into the room today, something was different. She looked… calm. Comfortable. Like she had a plan. Like I wasn’t some mystery she was trying to figure out anymore—but someone she wanted to talk to.
And then she brought up the Clearwater game.
Out of all the things she could’ve said, that one caught me off guard. Not because she mentioned it, but because she actually watched it. She remembered the score. The play. Even my last shot.
It felt… personal.
So, yeah—I ran with it.
If there was ever a time to make a better impression, this was it. I started telling her about the other games. The tournament finals of my first year, where I’d hit a buzzer-beater in double overtime. The away game at Forest Grove, where the crowd was so loud I couldn’t hear the play call, but still managed to take the game into OT. She laughed at that part, said I made it sound like a movie.
And maybe I was talking a little too much, too fast, but it felt natural with her. Like she actually cared. Like she saw me, not just the jersey.
“Well, it was kind of amazing. You’re amazing.”
I froze.
Did she just—
My heart did this stupid little stutter in my chest. I could still hear her voice replaying in my head, like an echo on loop.
She admires me.
She thinks I'm amazing?
Not in some loud, dramatic, fangirl way, but in that soft, genuine tone that made it feel a hundred times more real.
And now, I was spiraling—full-on mental movie mode.
Suddenly, I was picturing what it would be like to date her. Like, actually date her. Maybe I'd show up outside her dorm with takeout and tell her I didn’t want to eat alone. Perhaps we’d sit on the bleachers at night after practice, sharing earbuds, not saying much but not needing to.
Then came the next thought—our first kiss.
God.
That did it.
Heat climbed up my neck so fast I felt it in my ears. My face was burning. I tried to play it cool, but I knew I was red as hell. The thought of Annabel and me kissing made me go crazy, and before I could stop it, I was blushing like a middle school girl.
I shifted in my seat and turned my head to the side, pretending to glance at the monitor like it had just beeped. It hadn’t. I just needed not to look directly at her face while imagining kissing it.
What was wrong with me? I never got like this. Not with anyone. But with her, it felt different. It felt like something that might matter. I never thought I would be blushing over the thoughts of kissing a girl.
What was really wrong with me?
- Writer
