Keisha sat in the gym, sweat dripping down her arms. The sound of the volleyballs hitting the floor echoed like thunder, but her mind wasn’t really on practice. Coach blew the whistle.
“Keisha, focus. You got invited to New York. Big tournament. Scouts will be watching. Don’t waste this chance.”
Her heart skipped. New York.
That was just a short flight from… him.
Santo Domingo
Meanwhile, Dylan was grinding at the outdoor court, sun burning his skin, the smell of fried empanadas drifting from the corner shop. His coach shouted:
“Dylan, faster, you’re playing like you’re dreaming!”
But Dylan was dreaming. About her. Always her.
That night, scrolling his phone, he saw the headline on i********::
“Rising star Keisha Williams to represent Chicago in New York tournament.”
He froze. His chest went tight.
“New York… so close.” He whispered, almost afraid.
Keisha’s side
At home, Mariah barged into her room, waving her phone.
“Girl! Did you see? You’re trending already. New York’s gonna know your name. You nervous?”
Keisha laughed weakly. “More than nervous. What if… what if he sees me?”
Mariah smirked. “Then maybe it’s destiny, chica.”
Dylan’s turmoil
Lying in bed, ceiling fan turning slow, Dylan typed and erased the same sentence over and over:
“Keisha, I’ll be in New York too.”
Delete.
“Can I come see you?”
Delete.
Finally, he threw the phone aside.
“Carajo, why am I scared? It’s just her… but she’s not just her.”
The build-up
New York was buzzing when Keisha arrived. Taxis honking, the smell of roasted chestnuts in the air, skyscrapers slicing the sky. She pulled her hoodie tighter around her, her stomach twisting with nerves.
Somewhere else in the same city, Dylan’s team had a scrimmage. But he wasn’t thinking about basketball. Not really.
⸻
They were finally in the same city for the first time in years.
Two young athletes, both fighting their own battles, both feeling the pull of something stronger than coincidence.
The red thread was burning hot now, tugging them closer