Isabella's POV
I stare at my boy best friend as his attention is fixed on the basketball game in front of us, yet my eyes remain glued to him. We've been friends since we were five and six, but somehow, out of the blue, I’ve started seeing him differently — with a love that goes beyond friendship. Yet my heart aches at the thought that he could never love me back.
I mean, the first time we met, fierce little six-year-old William told me he would never love me. By the time we were ten and eleven, he explained how his parents were married with eleven kids but didn’t love each other. That realization made him despise the idea of love, and honestly, I couldn’t blame him.
But me? I longed for those Disney fairy-tale love stories. I was an unapologetic hopeless romantic, waiting for the day my prince charming would sweep me off my feet, twirl me around, and kiss me like they do in the movies.
Yet, my so-called prince charming doesn’t believe in love. So, what am I supposed to do? Just ignore my feelings? I wish it were that easy. If it were, I wouldn’t be sitting here, staring at the boy I wish was my true love.
I let out a disappointed sigh and force myself to focus on the game. One of the players dribbles the orange basketball before launching it into the hoop, sending half the crowd into a frenzy.
"No need to look so disappointed. Our team’s still leading by 20 points," William whispers, trying to cheer me up. If only he knew.
I didn’t even realize the other team had scored. Truth be told, I know absolutely nothing about basketball, and my mind is too far gone to pretend otherwise.
I flash a small smile, toss a few pieces of popcorn into my mouth, and pray for the game to end quickly.
After a while, I set the popcorn aside and stretch with a yawn. "I have to go to the bathroom," I whisper, standing up. Without hesitation, William rises to his feet as well.
"You don't need to come with me. You'll miss the game," I protest, waving him off.
"Nonsense," he says firmly. "This isn’t our high school, and there are too many people here. I can miss three minutes of the game."
He follows closely behind me as we navigate down the bleacher stairs. I shake my head in disbelief, thankful that we sat on the outer side rather than in the middle.
Once we reach the hall, I spot the restroom sign and make my way inside. William leans against the wall beside the door, holding out his hand.
"Your purse and jacket. So you don't have to set them down in there," he says, his expression neutral.
I raise a brow but smile, handing him my things. After taking care of business, I thoroughly wash my hands and step back into the hallway. William is still there, eyes scanning the bustling crowd of teens and parents. The second the door closes behind me, his gaze snaps to mine, and a small smile tugs at his lips.
"Feel better? Want something to eat or drink while we’re already out here?" he asks, still holding my purse and jacket.
"Uhm... nachos and a water," I reply, nodding. "My wallet’s in my purse."
He immediately shoots me a glare. "I’ve got it," he says dismissively before turning to the food stand.
"But you didn't have to—"
"I already had my card out," he interrupts, swiping his card as he orders my nachos and water, then a hot dog and water for himself. After grabbing our food, we head back to the gym, with him once again sticking close behind me.
As we settle into our seats, he turns to me. "I get paid tomorrow. Want to go out? Or are you busy?"
"I have to watch Camille and Lillian until one. Is that okay?" I ask, nibbling on a cheese-coated chip.
"Yeah. I’ll bring Liam and Devon, then drop them off before we head out," he suggests.
I nod in agreement, focusing on my nachos. He smiles and shifts his attention back to the game.
After the Game
"Good job, Devon! You were amazing. I’m pretty sure you scored half of your team's points," William praises his younger brother as we exit the school and head into the crisp November night.
The chilly air sends a shiver through me, and William notices instantly. Without a word, he drapes my jacket over my shoulders, glaring at me playfully as he continues chatting with Devon. I roll my eyes but zip up the jacket, secretly grateful.
William has always been like this. When he first got his car, I was the first person to ride in it. Later, he taught me how to drive, helped me get my permit, and now that I have my license, he lets me drive his car whenever I ask.
"You coming to our house or heading back home?" Devon asks from the backseat once we’re in William’s black BMW.
"I'm going home," I reply, connecting my phone to the car’s Bluetooth. I play some Katy Perry but keep the volume low, knowing we’ll probably talk the whole drive.
"Oh! Camille and Lillian were just asking to hang out today," Devon says, his eyes glued to his phone. "Aw, I should've asked them to come to the game."
When William and I met, Devon and Lillian were both three, and our moms were pregnant at the same time — his with Liam and mine with Camille. Now they’re fifteen and twelve, and despite the age gap, the four of them get along perfectly.
After a quick pit stop at Chick-fil-A, William pulls into my apartment complex. I don't even try to argue as he insists on walking me to my door. He’s the perfect example of a gentleman — growing up with three older sisters will do that to a guy.
"Thank you, William. And congrats again, Devon!" I say, hugging them both. They return the hug, waiting until I unlock the door and step inside. I know they won't leave until I'm safely in.
"Isaaaaaa!" Camille squeals, running to hug me, her red box braids long overdue for a redo. "Mom bought hair! Can you do my hair, please?!"
I laugh, already knowing my night is far from over.
"I can do your hair tomorrow, Cami, not tonight. But we are going to take it down, wash it, and detangle it tonight. Go grab the stuff we need and meet me in my room," I tell her, heading toward the kitchen.
As I turn the corner, I bump into my mom and Lillian.
"Heyyyy," I greet with a smile. "Oh, Mom, you're washing Lilly's hair? Thank you! I'm about to get started on Cami's." I hug my mom before playfully poking Lillian's side.
"You'll do my hair tomorrow, Isa?" Lillian asks, her eyes hopeful.
"I am, yeah. While Mom goes out, I'm doing yours first, so you’ll have to wake up really early. William, Devon, and Liam are coming over tomorrow before William and Liam head out," I inform her, grabbing a few snacks from the counter. Then I head down the hall to my bedroom.
After three hours, Lillian and Camilla come back into my room, each carrying their own blankets. Their freshly detangled and braided hair is now tucked under matching cheetah-print bonnets. They both climb onto my bed, making themselves comfortable as I scroll through Netflix.
After a moment of indecision, I switch over to Disney+ and put on Tangled.
I grab my phone and shoot William a goodnight text, which I get one in return within 2 minutes, letting me fall asleep with a smile on my face.
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