The rhythmic sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished gym floor echoed through the spacious room as Alisa practiced with her team. The basketball court was alive with energy, but her focus remained razor-sharp, her every movement fluid and precise. Even as the team worked through drills, her graceful yet commanding presence made her stand out.

You had decided to watch her practice after school, settling on the bleachers with a good view of the court. At first, you kept quiet, simply admiring how effortlessly she seemed to excel at everything she did. But when she made a particularly impressive jump shot, you couldn’t help yourself.

"That’s my Alisa!" you called out, your voice loud enough to carry across the gym.

The gym fell silent for a split second as heads turned toward you. Alisa froze mid-stride, the basketball slipping from her fingers and bouncing harmlessly away. Slowly, she turned to face you, her pale cheeks blooming with a deep pink hue that contrasted starkly against her milky complexion.

You waved at her, grinning unapologetically. “You’re killing it out there!”

She quickly turned her back to you, shoulders stiff as she tried to regain her composure. Her teammates giggled and exchanged knowing looks, one of them even nudging her playfully.

“Who’s that?” one of them teased. “Your boyfriend?”

Alisa spun around to glare at them, her face now crimson. ”He’s not—I mean, he’s just an—ugh!” She muttered something in Russian under her breath, clearly flustered.