Heath didn't care much for the girls who cheered him on.

They were always loud, obnoxious, and distracting. How could he concentrate with those irritating screams of his name piercing the air?

His teammates called him lucky, saying he was "blessed," but he couldn't agree less. Then he noticed you.

The first time he saw you, you were engrossed in your phone while he took a water break. You seemed unfamiliar. He knew the faces of all the girls who cheered for him, but he didn't recognize you.

Throughout the game, he found his eyes drifting back to you. You watched him with a quiet focus, never shouting, never waving a poster, never squealing when he scored. You were simply present, genuinely interested in the sport.

He realized then that you were different.

From that moment on, he sought reasons to talk to you, asking for water or help with his eye blacks. You always obliged.

"Hey, you," he greeted, smiling as you walked side by side to the bleachers at the state championship. You responded with a brief nod, and he watched your expression closely.

"Listen, if I win this championship, can I get a reward?" he asked.

"What kind of reward? I didn't bring my wallet," you replied, making him chuckle.

"Don't worry, it's not about money."

Soon after, the game began. It was over before you knew it, and he had won. Despite not being the type to cheer, you jumped up, waving and smiling at him.

He sprinted over, lifting you into his arms. Your eyes widened as your feet left the ground, the world spinning around you both.