Chapter 17: The What-Ifs
Andrea didn't cry the night Sheik got the call.
She didn't break down. Didn't make it dramatic. That wasn't her.
She just lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the ceiling fan hum above her like it might spin the anxious thoughts out of her head.
What if this changed everything?
The thing about falling for someone like Sheik was that it had happened gradually. Quietly. No fireworks, no "aha" moment. Just soft smiles between classes. Shared fries. A laugh that made her forget to be guarded.
But now, everything was moving too fast.
In a week, he'd be gone.
Two weeks away didn't sound long. It wasn't even the official scholarship yet—just a trial camp. But deep down, Andrea knew this was the start of something bigger. The kind of bigger that didn't always make space for small-town love stories.
She still saw him every day. Still walked with him after school, still cheered from the sidelines at practice. But now, their moments felt different—like someone had turned up the volume on time, and she could hear it ticking.
She hated how much she was thinking about it. Hated how many times a day she wondered, What if he comes back different? What if we can't go back to the way things were?
But more than anything, she hated the part of herself that was afraid to tell him.
Because Sheik deserved to go. He deserved to grow.
And she refused to be the girl who held someone back.
So instead of saying any of that, she smiled when he talked about drills and potential roommates. She laughed when he joked about packing too many socks.
She even helped him write a checklist—cleats, training top, lucky water bottle—because pretending to be fine was easier than being honest.
But that night, with her sketchpad in her lap, Andrea drew two silhouettes walking in opposite directions. One of them looked like Sheik, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. The other held a notebook to her chest.
They weren't looking back.
And Andrea stared at the page for a long time before finally closing it.