Friday - October

When I finally got back to the dorm after teaching my ballet class, my legs felt like jelly and all I could think about was the gloriously uneventful evening I had planned. A shower, some homework, and maybe collapsing into bed before midnight. Simple. Peaceful. Perfect.

Except peace was apparently not in the cards for me.

I opened the door, expecting the quiet hum of Isabella's music or her usual, overly dramatic recounting of her day. Instead, I was hit by a burst of noise and laughter. Standing in the middle of the dorm, looking entirely too comfortable, was none other than Blake along with two of his friends. Blake had that effortlessly cool look with his blond hair swept perfectly to the side and a green hoodie that screamed, I didn't try, but I still look amazing.

Isabella was perched on the arm of the couch, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder like she was in a shampoo commercial. She looked at me and grinned. "Amber! Perfect timing."

"For what?" I asked cautiously, shutting the door behind me. My eyes darted to the guys, and I suddenly became very aware of my sweat-soaked dance outfit under my oversized hoodie.

Blake gave me a once-over and smirked. "We're heading to the baseball game. First of the season."

I blinked. "That's great for you. Have fun."

Isabella rolled her eyes and hopped off the couch, grabbing my arm before I could escape into the safety of my room. "Oh no, you're coming too."

"What? No, no, no," I protested, holding up my hands. "I just got back. I'm sweaty. I'm exhausted. And I don't even like baseball."

"That's not the point," she said, dragging me toward my room. "You need to live a little. It'll be fun."

"I don't even know the rules!" I whined, trying to pull my arm free. "Isn't it just guys hitting a ball and running in circles?"

Blake chuckled from the couch. "Pretty much."

"See?" I said, pointing at him like he'd proven my point. "I don't need to go."

Isabella ignored me and shoved me into my room. "Change. Now. I've already picked out an outfit for you."

Five minutes later, I stood in front of my mirror, glaring at my reflection while Isabella fussed with my hair. She'd chosen a blue and white floral crop top with high-waisted light-wash jeans that somehow made my legs look a mile long Even though I'm already 5'. My trusty sneakers completed the look, and I insisted on adding my dainty silver necklace and matching hoops. She even tied a white ribbon into my hair, making me feel like I was going to a picnic instead of a sports event.

"This is ridiculous," I muttered, adjusting the hem of the top.

"You look adorable," Isabella said, stepping back to admire her work.

"I look like I'm about to frolic through a meadow," I deadpanned.

"You'll thank me later," she said, ignoring my protests. "Now grab your bag. We're leaving before you have time to back out."

When I stepped out of my room, all conversation in the living room stopped. Blake and his friends turned to look at me, and I immediately wanted to crawl back into my hoodie and disappear.

"Wow, you clean up nice," one of the guys said with a grin.

My face burned, and I crossed my arms. "Can we go now?"

Blake chuckled and stood, grabbing his jacket. "You're going to have fun, Amber. Trust me."

"Sure," I muttered under my breath, shooting Isabella a look that promised revenge.

The chilly autumn air hit me as soon as we stepped out of the dorm building, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself. I regretted not grabbing a jacket, but the sleeves of my floral blue-and-white top provided a little comfort. Isabella was practically skipping beside me, her excitement palpable.

"First game of the season, Amber," she gushed, looping her arm through mine. Her oversized navy sweatshirt contrasted sharply with my daintier look, and I couldn't help but side-eye her.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, watching Blake and his friends walk ahead of us, laughing about something. He was wearing a Baymount University cap, backward, of course, and his easy smile made him look like he walked straight out of a sportswear catalog. "Remind me why I'm here again?"

"Because you love me," Izzy said with a dramatic flutter of her lashes. "And because you secretly want to see Bryan run around in tight baseball pants."

I stopped dead in my tracks, my face immediately flushing. "Excuse me?"

Izzy tugged me forward, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "Oh, don't play innocent. You two have enough tension to power the stadium lights."

I groaned, letting her drag me along. "There's no tension. Just mutual disdain."

"Mm-hmm," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Keep telling yourself that."

The stadium was buzzing with energy. Blue-and-white banners hung everywhere, Baymount University fans decked out in their colors and waving foam fingers. The smell of popcorn and hotdogs filled the air, and I was half tempted to head straight for the snack stand instead of finding our seats.

We settled into the bleachers, our group taking up an entire row. Blake, of course, ended up sitting next to Izzy, who was absolutely glowing under his attention. I found myself squeezed between Izzy and one of Blake's friends, who seemed nice enough but was far too invested in explaining baseball stats to me.

"Amber, look!" Izzy nudged me, pointing toward the field. I followed her finger and immediately regretted it. Bryan was on the pitcher's mound, his back to us, his uniform fitting just a little too well.

"Great," I muttered, slumping in my seat.

"Great?" Izzy echoed, grinning. "You mean fantastic. Look at that form!"

"Can you not?" I hissed, trying to focus on anything else.

But of course, Izzy didn't stop. "You know, if you two stopped bickering for five minutes, you might actually—"

"Nope," I interrupted, shaking my head. "Not happening. Let's change the subject."

Luckily, the game started before she could tease me any further.

—-

Baymount was on fire. The team was relentless, racking up runs while the crowd roared with every hit. Even I found myself getting into the spirit, clapping and cheering along with everyone else. Bryan, unfortunately, was good—really good. Every pitch he threw seemed to glide perfectly into the catcher's mitt, and the opposing team was struggling to keep up.

"Isn't he amazing?" Izzy whispered dramatically into my ear, and I elbowed her, my cheeks burning.

When the game reached the third inning, Izzy declared it was snack time. We weaved through the crowd toward the concession stand, the sound of cheers and chatter filling the air.

"What do you want?" she asked as we scanned the menu.

"Popcorn. And maybe a soda," I said, digging into my bag for cash.

"You're so basic," she teased, ordering nachos for herself.

"Better than you and your questionable taste in cheese," I shot back, earning a laugh.

As we waited for our food, Izzy leaned against the counter and said casually, "So, did you notice Bryan looked up at our section earlier?"

I froze. "What?"

She shrugged, an innocent smile on her face. "Nothing. Just thought it was interesting."

"You're imagining things," I said, my voice a little too high-pitched.

"Am I?" she asked, taking the nachos from the vendor with a smirk.

Back in our seats, the game intensified. Baymount was up by three, and the tension in the stadium was electric. I found myself leaning forward, completely absorbed despite myself.

And then Bryan stepped up to bat.

The crowd erupted into cheers, and Izzy nudged me again. "Your boy's up."

"He's not my boy," I hissed, but my eyes were glued to the field.

Bryan swung, the crack of the bat connecting with the ball echoing through the stadium. It was a clean hit, sending the ball soaring into the outfield. He sprinted around the bases with an ease that made it look effortless, sliding into second base just as the opposing team scrambled to retrieve the ball.

The crowd went wild, and I couldn't help but clap along, even as Izzy gave me a knowing look.

When the game ended, Baymount had won, and the energy in the stadium was electric. I followed our group out, Izzy still teasing me about Bryan as we headed back to the dorms.

"Admit it," she said, grinning. "You had fun."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, but deep down, I couldn't deny it.

—---

When we got back to the dorm, all I could think about was sinking into my bed. The game had been fun—better than I'd expected—but I was drained. Between teaching my ballet class earlier, sitting through three hours of crowd noise, and walking back in the cold evening air, my legs felt like jelly. The idea of curling up with a book and maybe some hot chocolate sounded like heaven.

I dropped my bag by the door, already mentally cataloging how quickly I could wash up and change into pajamas. The guys were still animated, their voices filling the dorm as they rehashed the game. Isabella had a bounce in her step as she hung her bag on the back of the chair, clearly riding the high of spending the evening with Blake. She was in her element—laughing at Blake's jokes, tossing casual comments into the conversation, and lighting up the room with her usual energy.

I smiled softly to myself. She'd been so excited about tonight, and seeing her this happy made me glad I hadn't skipped the game. I started toward my room, ready to leave them to their banter.

But before I could make my escape, Isabella stepped into my path."And where do you think you're going?"

"To bed?" I said, tilting my head in confusion. "I mean, I had fun at the game, but I'm pretty wiped out. You know, ballet class earlier, plus sitting through three hours of yelling fans..."

Isabella shook her head dramatically, her blonde hair bouncing with the movement. "Amber, no. You're not done yet."

I blinked at her. "What do you mean?"

She crossed her arms and grinned, clearly enjoying the suspense. "We're going to the victory party."

I blinked again, slower this time. "Wait... the baseball team's victory party? For Bryan and his team?"

"Exactly!" Isabella said, her grin widening.

I bit the inside of my cheek. Part of me wanted to say no—every part of me wanted to say no, honestly—but Isabella looked so excited, and I didn't want to ruin her night. "I mean, I'm happy for them, but why would we go? I don't really think I fit in at those kinds of parties."

Isabella waved a hand, brushing away my concerns like they were nothing. "Of course you fit in. Everyone fits in at parties. And besides," she added, lowering her voice with a sly smile, "Bryan will be there."

That made me pause. Him. The bane of my existence, the human embodiment of arrogance wrapped in a baseball uniform. Did I want to spend more time in his orbit? No. But did I want to see Isabella happy? Definitely.

"Okay," I said slowly, trying to find a way out of this. "But I'm not exactly party material right now. I look like I've just survived a marathon."

Isabella grabbed my shoulders and spun me toward my room before I could protest. "Which is exactly why we're going to fix that. Blake, tell her. She's coming, right?"

I glanced over my shoulder at Blake, who was leaning casually against the couch, his hands in his pockets. "You should come," he said simply, offering me a small, encouraging smile. "It'll be fun. And, hey, free food."

I couldn't help but laugh softly at that. "You and your priorities."

"Okay, okay. But I'm not dressing up."

Isabella's eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Oh, you're absolutely dressing up."

—----

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