THE SINGER AND THE SIDEKICK
CHAPTER FIVE

AS THE days rolled by, Molly found herself avoiding Alana's practices. Guilt nagged at her every time she skipped, but she reassured herself that she'd be at the game, cheering her sister on when it really mattered. Outside the gym, her dynamic with Henry remained the same—distant, awkward, and tethered only by the fact that they shared a mutual connection through Jasper and Charlotte.

Molly buried her heartbreak beneath her ever-present calm and collected persona, but Henry wasn't fooled. After seeing her fake smile during their one-on-one game, he could tell that the spark behind her eyes had dimmed. He'd never admit it out loud, but a small part of him was disappointed when she didn't show up to practice. On the rare days Molly arrived to pick up Alana, she would barely glance his way, giving him only a curt nod before walking out.

Sometimes, Henry found himself wondering if that playful basketball game had been nothing more than a strange, fleeting moment in their strained acquaintanceship.

When the day of the big game finally arrived, Molly stood against the wall near the gym doors, arms crossed loosely over her chest. A faint smile played on her lips as she watched the action unfold on the court. The score was close—25-26—and even if her sister's team lost, Molly couldn't help but feel proud of how well Alana was playing.

Henry seemed more confident in his role as coach, pacing the sidelines with his little clipboard tucked under his arm. He called out encouragements to the team, his enthusiasm palpable as he urged them to give their best. She couldn't help but think it was kind of adorable how much he had thrown himself into the job, even if he'd only taken it on reluctantly.

After he'd called a time-out, he spun toward the bleachers, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. "Woodpecker parents! Get on your feet and cheer for your kids! Let's go!"

Molly laughed softly as her parents exchanged amused glances before rising to their feet, clapping and cheering. She jogged over to them, her movements light and carefree despite the tension that had lingered over her in recent weeks. As she passed Henry, she gave him a small smile, one that was almost genuine.

"That kid's doing great," her dad said, nudging Molly's shoulder with a grin. "That's your friend Henry, right?"

She nodded, pressing her lips into a tight line. She didn't have the heart to correct him, to explain that she and Henry weren't really friends—at least, not yet.

When the final buzzer sounded, signaling a victory for Alana's team, Molly couldn't contain her excitement. She sprinted onto the court, scooping her sister into her arms and spinning her around. Alana squealed with delight, her laughter echoing through the gym.

"You fucking killed it, Lana!" Molly exclaimed, her voice brimming with pride.

"Language," their mother teased from nearby, earning a sheepish chuckle from Molly. She set Alana down, stepping aside to let their parents shower the young girl with praise.

As the family celebrated, her eyes drifted across the court, landing on Henry. He stood among the players, high-fiving the team with a beaming smile on his face. The sight was infectious, and before she realized it, she found herself walking toward him.

She tapped him lightly on the shoulder and quickly stepped back, mindful of his girlfriend's notorious three-foot-rule. He turned to face her, his grin widening when he saw her.

"Well done, Hart," she said, her tone warm and sincere.

"Thanks, MJ," he replied with a chuckle. "How're you doing?"

Molly hesitated, her smile faltering for just a second before she smoothed it back into place. "Well, my sister just won her first basketball game, which means celebratory lasagna tonight. So, yeah, I'd say I'm doing great." She laughed lightly, hoping to deflect the question.

Henry raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying her attempt to dodge the topic, but he didn't push her and chuckled along.

"Thanks, though," she added after a moment, her voice quieter. "Seriously. For doing this."

The boy shrugged, his smile softening. "It's nothing. If anything, you should thank Piper for forcing me into this whole thing."

"Noted," Molly said with a smirk, her eyes briefly lighting up with amusement.

For a moment, they stood there in companionable silence, the noise of the celebrating team fading into the background. And while things between them were still uncertain and blatantly weird, for now, it was enough.

✰

The next game felt like stepping into an alternate reality. The energy was off, and Molly couldn't ignore it. Henry, who had once been animated and loud, cheering for the team and shouting instructions, was strangely subdued. He stood at the sidelines with his clipboard, offering only the occasional polite clap. No encouragement, no booming voice rallying the players or parents—it was downright eerie.

Molly's gaze flicked to the blonde woman on the opposing side of the court. Dressed in a hideous purple blazer, the woman shot pointed glares at Henry throughout the game. She didn't like her, and she didn't need to know anything about the woman to make that decision.

After the game ended—a win, thankfully—Molly made her way onto the court. She gave Alana a high-five and a proud smile before calling out, "Yo, Hart!"

Henry spun around, his grin wide and genuine, basking in the glow of the victory. "What's up, Molls?"

Molly paused, her brows knitting together at the unfamiliar nickname. She decided to let it slide, brushing it off with a shake of her head as she got to the point. "What the hell was that? A penguin coach better than that, and they don't even have thumbs."

Henry awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, his smile faltering as his eyes darted toward the glaring woman in purple. "Uh... my elbow—"

"Nope." Molly cut him off sharply, folding her arms across her chest. "No bullshit excuses this time. Who's that, and what did she say to you?"

Henry sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He knew better than to try and dodge Molly's questions—she had a way of seeing through every excuse he threw at her. Glancing around, he gently guided her a few steps to the side, away from the team and parents. For a moment, Molly wondered if he'd forgotten about Bianca's ridiculous three-foot rule.

"She's on the Swellview Tween Athletic Board," he informed her, lowering his voice.

The girl's brows furrowed. "S.T.A.B.? Are you kidding me? That's a thing?"

"Yeah," he muttered, his frown deepening. "She told me I'm not allowed to, uh, 'yell at the kids' during the game. And apparently, encouraging the parents to cheer is also a no-go."

Molly's jaw tightened as her blood began to boil. Her blue eyes locked onto the woman in purple, who was still lurking near the court with a sharp expression. "What?" She hissed through gritted teeth. "Oh, I'm gonna—"

Henry saw the fire in her eyes and quickly stepped in front of her, holding her back. He'd seen Molly fight The Mad Granny, AKA Veronica—he didn't need a similar situation on his hands, let alone one involving a member of the Athletic Board. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. No."

"Why not?" She snapped, glaring up at him. "She's fucking with both of our sisters' team!"

"Because you'll go to jail, that's why!"

"I just want to talk," Molly retorted, though the way she balled her fists suggested otherwise.

"Uh-huh." Henry wasn't buying it for a second.

She crossed her arms, mocking his skeptical tone. "Uh-huh. You know she's probably gonna chew your ass out for giving Lana that trophy, right?" She nodded toward her sister, who was joyfully chatting with their parents, her hands clutching a shiny new trophy. "Since, y'know, you're not even allowed to encourage them."

Henry's face fell, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. "Oh, shit," he muttered.

Molly smirked faintly, though her irritation still simmered beneath the surface. "Exactly."

For a moment, they stood there in silence, her burning gaze still darting toward the woman in purple as if plotting an elaborate takedown. Henry, on the other hand, was busy contemplating the potential fallout of his well-intentioned coaching efforts.

"Fine," Molly finally grumbled, her voice begrudging. "I won't 'talk' to her. But if she pulls anything else, you'd better believe I'm getting involved."

Henry shot her a wary look but nodded all the same. "Noted."

✰

Molly thought she'd made her point abundantly clear. But her confidence shattered when Alana came bursting into her room, tears streaming down her face and hiccupping sobs filling the air. Without hesitation, Molly pulled her into a hug, her heart clenching as Alana buried her face in her shoulder. She didn't need to ask what had happened—she already knew.

The anger simmered in her chest as she soothed her sister, promising her she'd handle it. Once the girl had calmed down enough to fall asleep, Molly grabbed her jacket and marched to her bike. Her jaw was clenched tight as she pedaled furiously through the streets of Swellview, her thoughts racing with each turn of the wheels.

When she reached the Hart household, there was no hesitation. She didn't even knock like she usually would. She just stormed inside, her angered steps echoing through the house.

"HENRY HART!"

Her voice carried through the living room like a thunderclap.

Henry, who had been lounging on the couch and scrolling through his phone, shot up like a bolt of lightning. His head whipped toward the door, eyes wide with panic. At the sight of her, though, his stomach twisted into knots. Molly stood in the doorway, her chest heaving, cheeks flushed from the effort of her ride over. Her blonde and pink hair was frizzy and wild, and her blue eyes blazed with an intensity that froze him in place.

He'd never seen her like this before. If he wasn't so terrified, he might've thought she looked... pretty.

Wait. He has a girlfriend.

"H-Hey, Molls..." he stammered, his voice cracking slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Charlotte and Jasper aren't here, so—"

"You took my sister's trophy?!" She snapped, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Henry's face paled. He sighed, already knowing there was no way to avoid this conversation. "I had to—"

"No, you didn't!"

"Yes, I did!" He shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface. "They wouldn't let me keep coaching if I didn't!"

Molly scoffed, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "You didn't even want this job to begin with!"

Henry's voice rose in defense, his own anger sparking to match hers. "But now I do!"

The room went silent for a moment, save for the sound of the girl's heavy breathing. Her glare didn't waver as she took a deliberate step toward him, breaking the stupid rule about keeping her distance. She reached down, yanking open his gym bag and pulling out the large trophy.

Her eyes burned into his, full of fury and hurt. "Fix it," she said coldly, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. "Or I will."

Henry stared at her, stunned into silence. The fire in her voice and the determination in her posture left no room for argument. As she turned on her heel and stormed out of the house, the trophy clutched tightly in her hands, Henry couldn't help but feel two things: dread for the chaos that was about to unfold and admiration for her unwavering loyalty to her little sister.

✰

Molly stepped into the gym alongside Henry, her expression set with determination. After the nonsense they'd endured at the last game with the overbearing blonde woman from the Swellview Tween Athletic Board, she wasn't about to let Henry face this alone.

As the two walked in, they stopped in their tracks at the sight of Jasper standing on a ladder, a drill in hand, lowering the basketball net.

"What the hell are you doing?" The girl asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

"Lowering the net," Jasper replied, his tone flat as he focused on the task.

"Yeah, I can see that," she shot back, crossing her arms. "Why?"

Her friend sighed, his frustration evident as he motioned toward the blonde woman standing off to the side. "She told me if I didn't lower it, the board would take my whistle."

Henry's hands immediately flew to his hips, his expression that of an annoyed father about to lecture a misbehaving child. Molly, on the other hand, tensed, her fists curling at her sides. She refused to look at the woman, knowing full well that if she did, Henry might have to physically restrain her.

"Okay," Henry began, his tone clipped. "What's going on?"

Before the woman could respond, two more sets of footsteps echoed through the gym, followed by a loud slam. Molly turned reluctantly, her glare sharpening like a blade as she spotted two new arrivals: a man and another woman, who were standing diagonally from a comically small chair.

Henry blinked at the absurdity of it, his irritation momentarily giving way to surprise. "You brought the tiny chair?"

The man didn't respond, instead motioning for the boy to sit. She watched, equal parts amused and enraged, as Henry reluctantly settled into the ridiculously small chair. She moved off to the side, pulling out her phone to snap a quick picture of him before hitting record.

From her perch on the sidelines, she listened, seething as the conversation unfolded.

"Your Woodpeckers have become a problem," the second woman began, her tone dripping with condescension.

"They've been scoring too many points," added the man, as though this was a legitimate complaint.

"So we're lowering the net for the other teams. To make it fair," the blonde woman concluded.

Henry shot up from the tiny chair, his patience clearly spent. He glanced toward Molly, who was now glaring daggers at the trio. "Oh, my God," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"Henry," the redheaded woman said in a sanctimonious tone. "Our job as decent adults is to make sure that no child ever loses."

"Or feels bad," added the blonde.

That was it. Molly snapped.

She placed her phone on the bleachers behind her and launched forward with murderous intent blazing in her eyes. The adults barely had time to react before she was charging at them, her jaw tense and fists clenched.

"Molls!" Henry shouted, leaping forward to intercept her. He managed to wrap his arms around her waist just in time, pulling her back before she could reach them. She thrashed against his hold, her voice ringing out across the gym.

"Decent adults?!" She screamed, her voice shaking with rage. "You're calling yourselves decent fucking adults? Are you kidding me? You forced him to take a trophy back from a child! You made him stop encouraging children! And won't even let parents cheer for their own kids! And now you wanna call yourself decent adults? Are you out of your goddamn minds?!"

Henry tightened his grip, whispering urgently in her ear. "Molls, chill. This isn't helping."

She whipped her head toward him, her furious blue eyes locking onto his brown ones. She didn't care how close they were; her anger drowned out any sense of personal space. "Would it help if I broke their fucking noses?"

The boy blinked, momentarily caught off guard by their proximity before shaking it off. "No!" He exclaimed, still holding her back. He glanced toward the hoop and shouted, "Jasper! A little help here?"

Jasper, wide-eyed and unsure, scrambled down from the ladder and rushed over. He grabbed Molly's arm, dragging her to the doors.

As they passed the trio of adults, Molly spat at their feet, her glare promising that this wasn't over.

"Fucking pricks," she muttered under her breath as her friend finally managed to pull her out of the gym.

Henry stood frozen for a moment, glancing back at the stunned adults before muttering, "Yeah... I should probably go check on her. Be right back."

The hallway was quiet, save for the sharp sounds of Molly's boots clicking against the linoleum floor as she paced back and forth, her fists tightly clenched at her sides. Her blonde and pink hair swayed violently with each step, a mirror of the fury glowing in her ocean-blue eyes. Her black and gray flannel hung crookedly over her shoulders, and her Pierce the Veil band tee was wrinkled from their earlier struggle.

Henry leaned against the gym door, watching her for a moment. He wasn't shocked to see her like this, not after the interaction at his house and the way she'd just snapped in the gym. Still, despite himself—and despite the fact that he had a girlfriend—he couldn't help but notice how striking she looked, even while fuming. He quickly pushed the thought aside, shaking his head as if to physically dispel it.

Jasper re-entered the gym, giving Henry a glance as he passed, as if he was saying "Good luck" with his eyes. That left just the two of them in the hallway. She hadn't noticed him yet, too wrapped up in her muttered tirade.

"Decent adults, my ass," she spat under her breath, her fists tightening further. "Lower the net? What the hell kind of participation trophy bullshit—"

"Molls," he said gently, stepping away from the door.

She froze mid-step, her head snapping toward him. For a moment, her blazing expression softened, but only slightly. "What?" She snapped, clearly still seething.

"You're gonna burn a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that," he pointed, attempting a lighthearted tone.

Molly narrowed her eyes at him, her arms crossing defensively. "You here to tell me to 'chill' again?"

"No," Henry sighed, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'm here to talk. And maybe stop you from committing a felony."

Her glare faltered, and she let out a huff, leaning back against the wall. "Those people are ridiculous. They're ruining this for our sisters, and you're just... standing there letting them."

"I'm not just standing there," he defended, stepping closer. "You think I like this? They're undermining everything I've been trying to do with the team."

"Then do something about it!" Molly shot back, her frustration evident. "Stop letting them walk all over you."

Henry sighed, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. "I'm gonna figure this out, okay? I promise."

She scoffed, shaking her head. "Sure you will," she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You really think they're gonna listen to some teenage coach?"

"I'll make them listen," he said firmly, stepping into her line of sight. "I don't know how yet, but I will."

Her eyes met his, and for a brief moment, the anger in her expression wavered. He looked sincere, but Molly had not yet learned to trust him. She folded her arms tighter across her chest, leaning her head back against the wall.

"You're wasting your time," she said softly, her voice lacking its sharp edge.

Henry knew she didn't believe him. He could see it in the way her shoulders sagged and the way her eyes avoided his. But he didn't let it deter him. After all, he didn't exactly trust her, either.

"I'll fix this," he repeated, his tone resolute.

Molly let out a small, humorless laugh, finally meeting his gaze again. "Good luck, Hart."

For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, the tension between them hanging thick in the air. Henry wanted to say more, to somehow convince her that he was serious, but he could tell she was done talking.

With a sigh, he stepped back, giving her space. "You should probably head home. Let me handle it from here."

"Yeah," she nodded, pushing off the wall and straightening her flannel. "We'll see how that goes. Oh, and when you're done, can you bring me my phone? I left it on the bleachers."

He nodded.

As she turned to leave, Henry couldn't help but watch her go, her confident stride returning as she disappeared down the hallway. He shook his head again, muttering to himself.

"This is gonna be harder than I thought."

Whether he was talking about the situation with S.T.A.B., or keeping Molly Jensen at a distance, he wasn't quite sure.

✰

Molly's little outburst at the gym had earned her a ban from attending the games for the rest of the season. It was Henry who'd delivered the news when he dropped off her phone later that day. He had explained everything, both teens showing her parents the video of the heated confrontation, and, to her relief, they understood. Now, instead of being courtside, she was stuck watching her sister's game unfold through a shaky FaceTime call on her mom's phone.

Her frown deepened as she caught sight of Henry on the screen, pacing along the sideline with a defeated expression. Her heart sank further when she saw how low the rival team's hoop had been set. It was practically laughable.

The audio on the call wasn't much help, choppy and overpowered by the squeak of sneakers and whispered conversations from the bleachers. Frustrated, Molly came up with an idea.

"Hey, Mom," she said, raising her voice a little to be heard. "Can you give Henry the phone real quick?"

Gabriella Jensen didn't ask questions. With a subtle movement, she passed the phone to Henry, who accepted it curiously, his attention flickering between the game and Molly's face on the screen.

"Hey, Molls. What's up?" He asked, his tone a mix of surprise and irritation.

"Any progress?" She asked, her tone blunt.

Henry sighed, glancing back at the absurdly low net before returning his gaze to her. "If I'd made any, the net wouldn't be five feet off the ground," he muttered. His voice was tight with frustration as he turned his attention back to the court.

Molly's eyes stayed locked on him through the screen. She could tell he was near his breaking point.

The game continued, and a boy from the opposing team dribbled effortlessly around Piper before passing the ball. One of his teammates scored with an easy layup on the hilariously low hoop.

"Time out! Time out!" The blonde boy shouted, clapping his hand sharply against his wrist to get his team's attention.

The players gathered around him, their complaints loud and overlapping.

Alana, who had spotted Molly on the phone, suddenly grabbed it from Henry's hand, holding it up to her face. "M, please help us out!"

"Yeah, M!" Piper chimed in, throwing an annoyed glance toward her brother. "This sucks!"

The boy took the phone back gently, holding it up so her smirking face filled the screen again.

"You know what to do, Hart," she said teasingly.

Henry took a deep breath, lowering the phone to his side. His brown eyes hardened with determination as he faced his team. "Yeah, you're right. This game isn't fair!" He declared, his voice ringing through the gym and silencing the players.

On the other end of the call, Molly arched a curious brow, leaning in closer to the screen as she listened.

"So," he continued, building momentum. "We could just give up and go home..."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, no, no!" He added quickly, throwing up his hands as the kids started to walk away. "I was just taking a dramatic pause."

Molly couldn't help but laugh at that, the sound breaking through the tension like sunlight. Henry heard it loud and clear, a small grin tugging at his lips before Piper's voice interrupted.

"Okay, what're you saying?"

"I'm saying..." He hesitated for just a second, glancing toward the bleachers where Molly's parents sat watching. But the sound of her laugh gave him the confidence to push forward. "Piper, quit playing so lazy! When you're on defense, keep your hands up!"

He pointed to the others, rallying them. "Tyler, Hannah, you gotta play smarter. If you don't have a clear shot, pass the ball like I taught ya! Alright, Lana. I wanna see you hustlin' up and down this court, or tomorrow you're runnin' laps. You hear me? And Steve—PUT THE TACO SALAD DOWN!"

Henry lifted the phone to his face, Molly's smirking expression greeting him as the kids made their way back onto the court. "Told you I'd fix it," he said smugly.

"Shut up and coach, Hart," she replied with a chuckle, giving him a small wave before the phone was handed back to her mom.

As Molly sat back on her bed, watching the game unfold with a bit more hope, she couldn't help but smile to herself. Maybe—just maybe—Henry Hart was someone she could trust. Despite whatever secret he and Charlotte were hiding, he'd made her a promise.

And he'd kept it.

— b speaks!
hehe angry molly has my heart :)

also, i probably should've mentioned that after this chapter, weekends will be update-less so i can spend time with my family (my daughter just turned 4 months old and my fiancés off on weekends.)

reminder: don't be a silent reader!

see ya!