TORI'S POV
I smoothed down my blouse for the tenth time, scanning the classroom for Ethan. The econ project was finally done, and today was our presentation. After this, we'd be done. No more study sessions, no more uncomfortable conversations, no more... whatever this thing was between us.
"Where is he?" I muttered, checking my phone. Two minutes until class started.
Maya texted: Good luck on your presentation! Don't forget we have the big game right after.
Right. The game. The one where the Olympic scout would be watching.
My stomach twisted into an even tighter knot.
The classroom door swung open, and Ethan walked in. His hair was slightly damp, like he'd just showered after morning practice.
Our eyes met briefly before I looked away, pretending to check my notes.
He slid into the seat next to me. "Morning."
"Hi," I replied stiffly. "I uploaded the final presentation to the shared drive."
"I saw. Looks good."
An awkward silence fell between us. I desperately wanted class to start so we could get this over with.
“Good morning, everyone! We'll start with Group 3—Ethan and Victoria," Professor Chen began.
We made our way to the front of the room. As I connected my laptop to the projector, I was acutely aware of Ethan standing beside me, close enough that I could smell his cologne.
"Today we'll be presenting our analysis of resource allocation in Westridge athletics," I began, clicking to the first slide.
The presentation went smoothly at first. We traded off sections as planned, our voices filling the silent classroom.
When Ethan spoke about budget disparities, I found myself watching his hands gesture emphatically. He actually cared about this, I realized with surprise.
"And that concludes our presentation," Ethan finished. "Any questions?"
Professor Chen adjusted her glasses. "Excellent work. I have a few questions for each of you."
She turned to Ethan first. "Mr. Harrington, can you elaborate on how the current allocation model affects recruitment efforts for non-revenue sports?"
Ethan answered confidently, citing examples we'd researched together. I relaxed slightly. We were almost done.
"Ms. Martinez," Professor Chen continued, "explain how the equity model you've proposed would impact overall athletic department performance metrics."
My mind went blank. This wasn't one of the questions we'd practiced. I remembered discussing performance metrics with Ethan at some point, but the details were fuzzy.
"Um, the equity model would..." I fumbled, feeling heat rise to my cheeks.
Professor Chen waited expectantly. Twenty pairs of eyes stared at me.
I glanced at Ethan, silently pleading for help. He met my gaze, and I saw the corner of his mouth twitch into that infuriating smirk.
He knew the answer, but he wasn't jumping in.
"I believe..." I tried again, "it would create more balanced performance across all sports, but I'm not sure about the specific metrics."
"That's not quite what I'm looking for," Professor Chen said. "Mr. Harrington, can you assist your partner?"
Ethan cleared his throat. "The equity model would likely show decreased performance in revenue sports initially, but increase overall medal counts and championship appearances across all sports within a 3-year window. Our research showed that schools using similar models saw a 22% increase in overall athletic achievement."
"Precisely," Professor Chen nodded. "Thank you both. You may be seated."
I gathered my things quickly, face burning with embarrassment.
That answer had been in our research. I should have known it.
When class ended, I shoved my notebook into my bag and headed for the door.
"Tori, wait up," Ethan called after me.
I kept walking. He caught up to me in the hallway. "You did good up there."
"Except for the question I bombed," I muttered. "Thanks for the help, by the way."
"You didn't exactly ask for it."
"What was that smirk about?" I demanded, stopping to face him.
"What smirk?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. You enjoyed watching me struggle."
"That's not true," he said, his expression turning serious.
"Look, can we talk about—"
My phone rang, cutting him off. Coach Rivera's name flashed on the screen.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Martinez, where are you?" Coach barked. "Pre-game meeting started five minutes ago!"
"Sorry, Coach! My presentation ran long. I'm on my way!"
I hung up and started running toward the gym. "I have to go!"
"Tori!" Ethan called after me, but I was already turning the corner.
I sprinted to my locker, grabbed my gym bag, and rushed to the locker room.
My teammates were already in their uniforms.
"There she is," Maya said.
Coach entered, clipboard in hand. "Alright, ladies. The scout is here." She pointed discreetly toward a man in the stands. "This is your moment, especially you, Martinez. Don't overthink it. Just play your game."
My stomach lurched. The scout. The future. Everything I'd been working for.
"Let's go!" Coach clapped her hands.
We jogged onto the court for warm-ups. I tried to focus, but my mind kept drifting between the scout, the failed question in class, and Ethan's frustrating smirk.
"Get it together," I muttered to myself, smacking a practice serve over the net.
The game began, and I immediately felt off. My timing was wrong. My movements felt sluggish.
When a ball came toward me, I hesitated a split second too long before diving.
"Martinez! Wake up!" Coach shouted from the sideline.
Ten minutes in, we were already down by five points. I needed to turn this around. When the ball came over the net, I saw my chance. I sprinted forward, preparing to set it up for Maya.
My foot hit a slick spot on the court. My leg twisted beneath me at an impossible angle. Pain exploded through my knee as I crashed to the floor.
"Aaaaah!" I screamed, clutching my leg. White-hot agony pulsed through me.
"Call the paramedics! Quick!" a familiar voice shouted.
I turned my head toward the sound and saw Ethan pushing through the crowd, his face pale with worry.
The edges of my vision started to darken. The last thing I saw was Ethan kneeling beside me, his hand reaching for mine.
Then everything went black.