You Are the Bright Light in the Clouds

The next day, Lucas was back in action on campus, feeling better just in time for a basketball game.

As the captain, there was no way he'd miss it.

I made sure to get there early and scored the best seat in the stands to catch all the action.

I came prepared with water and a fresh towel for Lucas, ready to cheer him on like no other.

When the team hit the court, I immediately spotted Lucas among the tall players in their sharp uniforms.

He caught my eye too and gave me a rare wave.

"Looking good, Lucas!" I stood up, waving back enthusiastically.

I watched him like a hawk throughout the game.

"Nice shot, Lucas! You're killing it!"

"Lucas, you're my hero!"

I yelled until my voice cracked, oblivious to the other girls rolling their eyes at me.

Huh!

They clearly didn't understand.

Guys thrive on praise and adore being adored.

"Keep it up, Lucas! Show them who's the boss!"

"How can someone be as stunning as you, Lucas? I'm head over heels!"

I lavished praise on him with every basket he made, becoming the loudest voice in the crowd.

Eventually, I had to take a break as my throat gave out.

Lucas was on fire—his moves were slick, his passes were spot on, and his shots? Nothing but net with three scores.

Watching him, memories of another who played just as passionately flashed through my mind.

He had been good at basketball, just like Lucas.

I used to cheer him on just like this, sitting in the same bleachers.

If it weren't for Lucas, maybe we would be together at college now, just like any other couple, sweet and simple...

It's all because of Lucas. He's the reason everything went south.

My fists clenched tight, the pain searing through my heart, but it couldn't drown out the ache.

It's been two years, Chad. Every memory is like a stab in the heart.

But I promise, anyone who hurt you will pay.

They'll definitely pay.

...

"Daydreaming?"

Lucas had approached without me noticing, probably because it was halftime.

I shook my head, pushing my swirling thoughts away.

Before I could hand him the water I'd brought, he'd already grabbed the bottle from me and started drinking.

I managed a smile, about to praise his gameplay, when suddenly a basketball hurtled our way.

"Look out!"

Reacting instantly, I stood up and shielded Lucas with my body.

Thud!

The basketball smacked me right in the forehead, stars dancing before my eyes for a moment.

That's not how I planned it—next time, hire someone with a softer throw.

"You got eyes or what? You playing the game or playing target practice?"

Lucas' expression darkened immediately as he saw me take the hit.

He fixed a cold stare on the guy who'd let the ball slip, his voice cutting through the air.

Even though I'd set this up, I hadn't expected Lucas to explode with anger.

It was the first time I saw him lose his cool like that, and it kind of scared me.

"It's okay, it was just an accident," I tugged at his shirt, trying to soothe his temper.

"Dumb move! You saw it coming—why didn't you duck instead of jumping in front of it?" He was clearly irked as he shook off my hand.

If I'd dodged, all that setup would've been for nothing!

Lucas seemed really upset, so I quickly added, "I was just worried about you getting hit, that's all..."

"What, you think I need a bodyguard?" He interrupted me, still fuming.

He was so harsh, even though I had just tried to protect him!

I felt a tear roll down my cheek, more from his words than the pain.

Seeing my watery eyes and quivering lips, Lucas finally calmed down a bit.

"Does it hurt?"

He gently pulled me close, tenderly brushing the hair from my forehead, his voice much softer now.

"Yes, it hurts."

I looked up at him, sniffling and trying not to cry.

"You know it hurts, and you still ran into it?"

His face was stern, but his eyes betrayed his worry.

"It would hurt more if it were you."

I offered a goofy grin, trying to lighten the mood with a bit of corny affection.

"Let's get you to the nurse," he said, his tone warmer but still laced with concern.

"But you haven't finished your game!"

I clung to his arm, pointing back at the court.

"That doesn't matter anymore." He shook his head, resolute.

With that, he picked me up right there in front of everyone and carried me off to the nurse's station.

The nurse diagnosed me with a mild concussion and insisted I stay for observation.

"Why did you carry me? I could have walked," I asked coyly, while he peeled an apple for me.

"You're slow," he replied without looking up.

"But carrying me in front of everyone? How embarrassing!" I pouted, playing up my discomfort. "Now that you've carried me, you have to take responsibility, otherwise..."

"I'll take responsibility."