Chapter Thirteen: The Tournament
Amaya woke up with a jolt, the sunlight streaming through her window making her heart race faster than usual. Today wasn't just any Saturday—it was the day of the university sports tournament. And not just any tournament: Liam and Aris were on the same team, representing their medical school in a series of competitive events.
She bounced out of bed, excitement making her toes tingle. She'd planned this carefully: a cheerful, sporty outfit that wouldn't look too childish but still allowed her to move and cheer. She opted for a fitted navy hoodie, leggings, and her favorite sneakers—the ones that were just a touch too worn to seem like she was trying too hard. A small backpack held snacks, a water bottle, and her notebook—because of course she couldn't go anywhere without the possibility of jotting down "observations."
Downstairs, Liam was already at the table, pouring cereal with the precision of a man who'd been up too early. He looked up, grinning when he saw her.
"Already dressed like the ultimate cheerleader?" he asked, gesturing to her outfit.
"I'm dressed for strategy and style," she said, tossing him a wink. "I need to be prepared for long hours of emotional investment."
"Long hours of watching my stellar performance," Liam replied, smirking. "And Aris's, apparently. I think you like watching him more."
Amaya froze mid-bite of her toast, cheeks flaming. "I… I just… I mean—he's… good at teamwork, okay?"
"Uh-huh," Liam said knowingly, grinning. "Teamwork. Sure. That's exactly what it is. You'll get your moment eventually. Don't worry."
She shot him a glare, but her heart fluttered. Liam was insufferable, but he was right—she was excited for more than just the games.
By mid-morning, the stadium was buzzing with activity. Flags waved, music blared, and teams from different universities warmed up with stretches, shouts, and cheers. Amaya found a spot in the stands where she could see both Liam and Aris clearly.
Liam was stretching like a pro, calling out instructions to his teammates, his laughter ringing through the crisp morning air. Aris, in contrast, moved with calm precision, his movements controlled, his focus sharp. But when Liam clapped him on the shoulder or cracked a joke, Aris's rare, small smile appeared.
Amaya's stomach did little somersaults. Watching them together—her brother and her tutor, side by side, working toward a common goal—felt… like seeing pieces of her two favorite worlds collide. She pulled her hoodie tighter around her, trying to look casual while sneaking glances at Aris.
"You're going to get lost staring at him," Chloe whispered from the next seat, having decided to join Amaya for moral support.
"Focus on cheering. You don't want him to think you're a creeper."
"I'm cheering," Amaya said quickly, though her eyes never left the field.
"Right," Chloe said skeptically, smirking.
The first event was a relay race. Liam was off first, dashing across the track with the kind of energy that made Amaya's chest ache with pride. She clapped and screamed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"Go, Liam! That's it! Keep your form!" she shouted.
When Aris took his turn, it was almost hypnotic. Every movement calculated, efficient, and yet fluid. The crowd around her cheered, but Amaya noticed the small things: the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the way his legs pumped steadily, his arms moving like a metronome. She found herself holding her breath until he passed the baton perfectly to the next teammate.
"You really are impossible," she muttered under her breath, watching him.
"Who? Me or him?" Chloe asked, laughing.
"Both," Amaya said, shaking her head.
Between events, Liam jogged over to the stands, waving her over.
"C'mon, cheerleader! Hydrate before the next round. You're losing your edge."
Amaya jumped down from the stands, moving to meet him. He handed her a bottle of water with a grin. "You know, you could cheer without getting all red-faced."
"I'm not red-faced," she protested, taking a sip. "I'm… spirited."
"You mean you're absolutely star-struck," he said, leaning close and nudging her shoulder. "And don't deny it. I see how you look at Aris when he's in action."
Amaya groaned, hiding behind the bottle. "Liam!"
He laughed, clapping her on the back. "Relax. I'm just teasing. But admit it—he's impressive, right? Even I can see it, and I train with him sometimes."
"Yes," she admitted softly. "He's… amazing."
Liam's grin widened. "I'll tell you a secret—he's fun too. You just don't see that side in the study sessions. But today… today you'll catch it."
Amaya felt a thrill shoot through her. The thought of seeing Aris outside the stifling boundaries of textbooks and corrections, actually having fun, was exhilarating.
The tournament's highlight event was a medical knowledge obstacle course—a combination of physical tasks, mental puzzles, and team strategy. Liam and Aris were in perfect sync. Liam's energy and Aris's precision complemented each other beautifully. Amaya cheered for every completed task, her voice hoarse by the end of the day.
During a short break, Aris jogged over to grab water for his team, and Amaya's heart nearly skipped a beat. He looked at her, tired but focused. "You're loud," he said, voice low enough that only she could hear.
"I'm motivating you," she said with a grin, holding her hands out as if he needed a tangible push.
"Motivation is irrelevant," he replied, smirking slightly. His usual sternness had softened just enough for her to notice. "But… appreciated, I suppose."
She felt herself melt. "Good. I'll take that as a compliment."
"You're lucky I don't deduct points for distraction," he muttered, walking back to his team.
Amaya laughed quietly, bouncing on her toes in excitement. She loved the way he moved seamlessly between focus and subtle acknowledgment of her presence. It was a thrill she couldn't explain.
By late afternoon, the team had made it to the final round. The stadium was packed, spectators cheering, and the energy was palpable. Liam and Aris moved like a single unit, reading each other's movements, anticipating plays, and covering for each other flawlessly.
Amaya cheered louder than anyone, waving a handmade banner she'd crafted that said, "Go Team Snow-Rowon!"
Aris glanced up briefly as the banner fluttered in the wind. He gave a small nod—not to the banner itself, but to her. Just enough for her to feel recognized, without admitting to the obvious.
When the final whistle blew, their team had won. Liam threw his arms around Aris in a victorious hug, and Aris, for the briefest of seconds, allowed himself a laugh, a real, unguarded laugh. Amaya's chest tightened at the sound—it was rare and fleeting, but she would remember it forever.
Later, when the crowd had dispersed, Liam and Amaya walked toward the car, still laughing and joking.
"Not bad for a team that spends half their time arguing over anatomy," Liam said. "Aris really is… different when he's not a tutor."
"I noticed," Amaya said softly. "He's… warm."
"Warm?!" Liam exclaimed, nudging her playfully. "Careful, don't go melting all over him. You'll embarrass yourself."
Amaya groaned. "I'm… fine. I'm just… happy."
"You're clearly not fine," Liam said, laughing.
"But I get it. He's… something else. I'm glad he's on our side though—your secret crush won't crash and burn today. You saw him laughing, right?"
"I did," she admitted, eyes sparkling. "And it was… amazing."
"You're ridiculous," Liam said, ruffling her hair affectionately. "But you're my ridiculous sister, so I'll let it slide. And hey… if you keep up this cheering, maybe he'll start showing up at more events. Strategically, you know?"
Amaya smiled, walking beside her brother. She felt lighter than she had in weeks, a feeling of triumph that had nothing to do with winning points or exams. Today had been a victory for her, too—a victory in subtle observation, emotional stakes, and the quiet thrill of knowing she'd been seen.
And though Aris hadn't taken her hand, smiled directly at her, or acknowledged her in front of the crowd, she didn't need more. Today, she had watched him—laugh, strategize, bond with Liam—and she had cheered. She had participated in his world without breaking the rules, and it was perfect.
The car ride home was filled with chatter, teasing from Liam, and quiet satisfaction. Amaya couldn't stop touching the silver swan locket that rested against her chest.
Tomorrow, she thought, she'd get ready for her seventeenth birthday. And maybe, just maybe, she'd find a way to let Aris know she appreciated the little things—even if he'd tried to excuse the gift from his mother. After all, the swan had become a symbol: a quiet, shining connection between them.