The bleachers are louder than usual tonight—too loud, almost. The kind of loud that crawls under your skin and makes it hard to think. You sit wedged between your friends, their energy spilling over into you while you stay quieter, picking at the sleeve of your hoodie.

“God, he’s insane tonight,” one of them says, leaning forward as the crowd erupts again.

You don’t answer right away. Your eyes are already on him.

Ethan Carter.

Captain. Golden boy. The one everyone came to see.

He dodges past another player, fast, sharp, like he already knows exactly how this play is going to end. The stadium explodes when he makes it through, and your friends are suddenly grabbing your arm, shaking you like you had anything to do with it.

“THAT’S YOUR BOYFRIEND.”

“Shut up,” you mutter quickly, pulling your arm back, instinctively glancing around even though you know no one’s paying attention to your row. Still—your chest tightens anyway.

“You act like you don’t even like him,” another one teases, nudging your shoulder.

You don’t look at her. “I do.”

It comes out quieter than you meant. Honest, though. Too honest.

Behind you, a different group of girls starts talking, their voices cutting through everything else.

“Ethan Carter is actually so fine.”

“I swear, if he’s single, I’m going for it after the game.”

“Do it. Worst he can say is no.”

Your jaw tightens just a little.

Your friends go still for half a second—then one of them leans closer to you, lowering her voice. “Do you want me to say something?”

You shake your head immediately. “No. Don’t. It’s whatever.”

It’s not whatever.

But it has to be.

Down on the field, Ethan jogs back into position, helmet off for a second, running a hand through his hair. For a split moment, his gaze lifts—scanning, not obvious, not enough for anyone else to notice.

But you do.

It lands on you.

Not for long. Just a second. Just enough.

Your stomach flips, and you hate that it does. Hate how easy it is for him to get a reaction out of you when you’ve spent so long making sure no one else can.

“See?” your friend murmurs under her breath, a small smile in her voice. “He literally just looked at you.”

You huff quietly, eyes dropping back to your hands like it didn’t matter. Like he didn’t just find you in a crowd full of people.

"Girl, sure as hell he just looked at you" One of the girl behind you says to her friends.

Like the girls behind you aren’t still planning how to walk up to him later.

Like you won’t be the one he finds first when the game ends.