"Today, my children," Coach Tonton declared, arms wide open like a prophet before his followers, "you will play not just for fun, but for bragging rights!"
The tennis team stood in the usual semi-circle, half-listening, half-wondering if Coach had finally cracked from the heat. Behind him stood a team from a nearby private school—clean uniforms, neat posture, and zero visible chaos.
"I arranged this friendly scrimmage," Coach continued, "to give you a taste of outside competition. No pressure. Unless you lose horribly, in which case, I'll cry myself to sleep."
"Coach, please don't cry again," Harold muttered. "It's so awkward."
"I heard that!" Tonton snapped, then turned to the visiting coach and smiled like a salesman. "Welcome to Gubat Coastal High, where the courts are sandy and the kids are cracked."
Mira leaned on the fence, glancing at the visiting team's mixed doubles pair. A tall boy with a serious expression and a girl who looked like she ran marathons for fun. They even stretched in sync. Like robots. Very polite robots.
Jomar stood beside her, clutching his racket like it owed him money.
"Think we'll survive?" he asked.
Mira didn't answer right away. She kept watching the pair across from them. "They're clean. Precise. Zero chaos."
"So, the opposite of us."
"Exactly."
Coach Tonton clapped them both on the back. "Just play your game! Be unpredictable! Be scrappy! Be—"
"Chaotic?" Mira offered.
"Exactly! And if all else fails, smile and confuse them."
The match began.
First serve from the visitors. The boy—Marco—served clean. Not too fast, not too slow. Just… surgical.
Jomar managed to return it this time. Barely.
Mira whispered from behind him, "Better than hitting volleyball girls, huh?"
"Can we not bring that up during a match?"
"Just trying to motivate you."
The rally lasted four shots before Mira sent the ball into a corner they couldn't reach. Gubat: 15-love.
The team on the bleachers cheered like they'd just won the lottery.
"WHAT DID I TELL YOU?" Coach yelled. "WE ARE UNSTOPPABLE WHEN WE'RE DELUSIONAL!"
Jomar and Mira's coordination slowly clicked. Mira would give soft verbal cues, like "right!" or "yours!" and Jomar, for once, listened. They didn't win every point. But they played with rhythm. Like jazz. Or a dance. Improvised, messy, but with heart.
Then came that rally.
Long. Fast. Shots back and forth like bullets in a spy movie.
Mira leapt to intercept a lob, spinning midair with a grin.
Jomar dove for a return that he shouldn't have gotten—and somehow did.
At the end, Mira smashed the ball down the line. The visitors missed.
Set point.
Their team exploded in cheers. Even Coach Leia, watching from afar, gave a small clap before returning to her squad of volleyball monsters.
They sat under the shade after the match, both red-faced and sweating.
"You're bleeding," Mira said, pointing at his elbow.
"Battle scar," Jomar said proudly.
"It's literally just a scrape."
"Still counts."
She handed him her water bottle. "Don't get cocky."
He drank. "Too late."
The others trickled over with praise, teasing, and a banana.
"Eat this," said Faye, tossing it at Jomar. "Coach says potassium makes you less stupid."
"Thank you?" he blinked.
Coach Tonton gave them both a thumbs-up. "You two. There's something there."
"Teamwork?" Mira asked.
"No, chemistry! The kind that sparks. The kind that explodes. The kind that burns classrooms down!"
"…So teamwork," Jomar said quickly.
The coach wandered off dramatically, quoting K-Drama lines again.
Later that afternoon, the two walked the quiet hallway of the gym building to return borrowed towels and gear.
"I think we did good," Jomar said, bumping Mira's shoulder.
"We didn't embarrass ourselves," she agreed.
"Coach didn't cry."
"That's a win."
He stopped walking for a second. "Hey… thanks for teaching me."
Mira blinked. "What?"
"Tennis. Footwork. Everything. I'd be lost without you."
Mira looked at him—really looked. There was that flutter again. That stupid warm feeling in her chest that showed up when he smiled like that.
"It's nothing," she shrugged.
"No," he said. "It's something."
A pause.
"…Still just friends though," Mira said, lightly, breaking eye contact.
"Yeah," Jomar replied too fast. "Just friends."
But they both smiled, and neither quite believed it.