Chapter 9: Match Day

Milie's POV.

The stadium was louder than usual. Of course it was—the NCAA Championship finals.

The crowd was wild. Every cheer, every whistle—it all pressed harder against my chest.

"If this stupid leg had held up… I would've taken my team to the finals too."

"But hey," I muttered under my breath, "our football team made it. Daxton's going to crush it."

Sammy helped me up the steps carefully. I hopped on one leg and dropped into my seat, a sharp pain shooting up my heel.

We took a front row, close enough to see everything.

"Darling, stay put," Sammy said. "I’ll be right back. Don’t move."

I rolled my eyes. "Stop treating me like a child."

"I have to keep you alive for your parents, remember?"

"Where are you even going?"

"Surprise."

And just like that—he was gone. "Great," I giggled. "His surprises are never good."

"Such an attention seeker, aren't you?" I turned. Three girls from college were eyeing me up and down.

I looked away casually, unlocking my phone. I didn't have the energy for this.

"How do you manage being this desperate?" Another one added.

I let out a small breath. "Aww," I said lightly, "same way you manage being this jealous."

They exchanged looks. "Oh, she talks," one of them smirked. "I thought you only perform when guys are around."

I gave a dry smile. "Trust me, I don’t need an audience for that."

"Yeah," another stepped closer, "you kinda do."

Then she smiled, faked, and added sweetly. "This whole thing 'I'm not like other girls? It’s an act, right?"

I raised a brow. "Same line again? You should really update your material."

A few people nearby chuckled. That didn't help her mood.

"No, seriously," she continued. "Hanging out with guys all the time, acting chill like you're above everything…"

"It's a classic pick-me behaviour."

I crossed my arms. "Think whatever you want. Doesn't change anything."

Her jaw tightened, frustrated seeing me unbothered. Another girl leaned in, lowering her voice.

"Two guys always around you… one basically obsessed…"

"And now a new one?" She paused, letting it sink in. "What is it exactly? Personality or strategy?"

That one hit. Because with Sammy and Daxton, there was nothing fake. But Alan? I didn't even know what that was yet.

I turned away. "Not doing this. Not today."

But they weren't done. "So, what is it?" one of them added. "That you are trading to get that kind of attention."

My fingers tightened on my phone.

"Simplicity," a voice cut in smoothly, "And honesty. You should try it sometime."

I turned around to find Alan, standing there, casually, calmly, with his hands in his pockets.

"Oh please," one of them scoffed. "We were just—"

"Yeah," he nodded lightly. "That's the problem. You're so busy tearing her down that you don't even realise how insecure it makes you look."

"She doesn't need to try this hard," he added, glancing at me for a fraction of a second, "people just choose to be around her."

That landed, harder than anything loud could. Not because of what he said, but how easily he said it.

Like it was obvious. Like, I didn't have to prove anything. My grip on my phone loosened.

For a second, I forgot about everything and just looked at him. "He is different from every boy I have ever met."

One of them rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"Yeah," they turned away, blending back into the crowd like nothing had happened.

Alan didn't look at them again. His gaze shifted to me. "You okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah… I’m fine. Thanks."

"Relax," he said, a faint smile touching his lips when—

"Milie!" Daxton's voice cut through the noise.

I turned instantly. He was already near the edge of the field, scanning the stands until his eyes found me.

For a second, his face lit up. "You’re here?"

"Of course," I called out, smiling despite everything. "How could I miss your match?"

He exhaled, something in him easing. But then his eyes shifted, not to the crowd, not to the field, but to Alan. Standing just behind me.

The change was subtle. No one else would've noticed, but I did. And just like that, something felt off.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said quickly. "I'm fine." His jaw tightened, but anyway, he nodded with a smile and turned to leave.

"All the best!" I called after him.

He lifted his hand slightly without turning back. I frowned for a second, but shook it off with a smile.

"It's Daxton. Making him smile is a piece of cake."

I nodded, my eyes drifting back to the field—

"Hey, Alan!" Sammy's voice came from behind. "Man, what's up? Good to see you."

I turned, surprised. "Didn't know you were coming," Sammy added. "I would've asked you to bring this idiot along."

I narrowed my eyes. "If you’re trying to get rid of me, I’m sorry, it’s not happening."

"Sorry, but after the match, I'm definitely not going home," Alan said quickly.

"Relax," Sammy grinned. "I just wanted some peace. Clearly failed."

Then he looked at Alan. "Now that you’re here… why don’t you join us?"

"He might already have plans," I cut in quickly. "Don't force him."

The words came out faster than I intended. And I regretted them almost immediately.

There was a brief pause. Just enough to feel it. I didn't look at him, didn't want to, didn't know why I said that.

Sammy raised a brow, clearly catching it. And then—Alan spoke.

"Yeah, I will watch with my classmates." He winked at Sammy and walked away without glancing at me.