Lola POV
I could feel the ice on me.
Not the kind that touches your skin. The kind that wraps around your soul. The kind that creeps in through the silence and the stares, the whispers behind your back and the side-eyes in the hallway.
At school. On the court. During practice. It followed me like a shadow. Heavy. Freezing.
Coach pulled me into her office the minute I walked into practice. Her arms were crossed, jaw tight, that disappointed look on her face that made my stomach twist.
“Lola,” she started, voice sharp but not yelling. “You and Jace Reyes need to cut this shit off. Right now.”
I didn’t say anything. I just stared at the ground, heart thumping.
“This thing between you two? It’s not good. Not for your reputation. Not for your image. And it sure as hell isn’t helping your chances at that scholarship.”
I swallowed, the words tasting like guilt in my throat.
Coach stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “You’re a leader, not a tabloid headline. I don’t want your name trending because of who you’re kissing—I want it trending because of how you’re playing. Got it?”
I finally met her eyes and nodded. “I understand, Coach. I promise. I’m done with the distractions. From now on, it’s Regionals. It’s the scholarship. It’s me.”
She studied me for a moment, as if searching for a crack in my promise.
“I expect that from you, Lola,” she said. “You’re the captain. This is your last warning. Don’t make me regret trusting you.”
“I won’t,” I said, even though deep down, I was already regretting everything.
When game day came, the gym was packed.
It wasn’t like before. There was this weird tension in the air, like people weren’t just here to watch volleyball. They were here to watch us. Me. Him. Like we were reality TV stars instead of athletes.
The second I stepped onto the court, I could feel the eyes. And then the voices.
“Traitor!”
I kept my chin up, kept my expression cold, like none of it mattered. But every word cut deeper than the last.
The game started fast. The ball flew, hands moved, sneakers screeched across the floor. But my brain wasn’t fully there. The noise in my head was louder than the sound of the ball.
From the stands, it got worse.
“She thought she was special, but he was just playing her.”
My breath hitched.
I turned just slightly, and my eyes found him—Jace. He was across the court, moving like a machine. Fast. Precise. Deadly.
But his face? Cold. Like I didn’t exist.
Like he hadn’t once looked at me like I was the only thing that calmed the storm inside him.
Now… he walked past me like I was thin air. Like I was just another opponent in the way of his shot.
And that?
That crushed me more than anything else.
I nearly missed a block, and the ball bounced awkwardly, forcing another teammate to dive for it.
“Lola, what the hell are you doing?!” Cassian yelled from across the court, his voice laced with frustration and fury. “Get your head in the game!”
I didn’t yell back. I didn’t have the energy.
Because the worst part wasn’t the stares or the rumors or the nasty words being thrown at me from every direction.
It was that I knew—I knew—I messed it all up.
The match continued, but I felt like I was watching it from the outside, like I was floating above it all, disconnected.
Like I had already lost something that I wasn’t sure I’d ever get back.
And as I stood in the middle of the court, surrounded by teammates who didn’t trust me, a crowd that wanted me gone, and the boy who wouldn’t even look at me…
I realized just how alone I really was. I had fucked up. Not just with Jace. But with everything.