By halftime, the score was tight.
"Girls, we're doing great, but we need to be smarter," Chahat said, wiping sweat off her forehead.
Tia cracked her neck. "Nah, we just need to crush them in the next half."
Pragya sighed. "Tia, we need to play smart, not just aggressive."
Kiya overheard their conversation and smirked. "Getting tired already? No surprise. Trash belongs in the garbage, after all."
Tia stepped forward, but Chahat held her back. "Not worth it," she muttered.
The final half began, and this time, Chahat's team picked up the pace. Tia's aggression combined with Chahat's strategic play made them unstoppable.
With only a few seconds left on the clock, the score was tied. The ball was in Chahat's hands. She dodged past two defenders and made a quick pass to Tia, who took the final shot.
The ball soared through the air and…
Swish!
The crowd erupted in cheers. Tia had scored the winning basket.
Their team huddled together, celebrating.
Tia smirked at Kiya. "Better luck next time, makeup vase."
Kiya crossed her arms, fuming. "Whatever."
Chahat turned to the team. "Alright, let's go get that treat Tia promised!"
Tia groaned. "Why did I say that? My wallet is crying."
Chahat laughed. "Too late to back out now."
As they walked off the court, victorious and proud, one thing was certain—this was just the beginning of their rivalry with Kiya.
The match had been intense, but in the last game, Kiya's team had lost focus—mostly because of Kiya herself. Her freshly manicured nails, which she had flaunted before the game, had broken mid-match. The shock of it had rattled her, making her careless and loud on the court. Instead of playing with concentration, she had fussed over her nails, throwing mini tantrums and breaking the rhythm of her teammates. The inevitable happened—they lost.
After the match, frustration burned in Kiya's chest. She stomped around, cursing under her breath. "Damn it! I knew it! I shouldn't have come today," she muttered angrily, staring at her broken nails.
Tia, who had been watching silently, suddenly became the target of Kiya's frustration. "This is all your fault, Tia! You jinxed me!" Kiya accused, her glare sharp.
Tia blinked, taken aback. "Me? What did I do?"
"You said my nails were too pretty before the game! It brought bad luck!"
Tia groaned. "Oh, come on, Kiya! You lost because you didn't focus, not because of me!"
Kiya wasn't convinced, though. She kept grumbling about bad luck as the team walked off the court.
Meanwhile, Chaahat felt something strange. It was just for a second, but she had sensed eyes on her. Her spine tingled as she turned her head slightly, scanning the surroundings. The sports ground was almost empty now, and there was no one suspicious around. Maybe it was just her imagination? She shook off the feeling and joined her friends.
Tia had already dragged Jay along, her excitement bubbling. "Let's go eat something! Losing a game is painful, but a samosa can heal all wounds," she declared dramatically.
The small roadside eatery was their favorite after-match spot. The smell of fried snacks and spicy chutneys filled the air, making their stomachs growl.
"For me, masala samosa," Chaahat ordered, settling on her usual choice.
"Samosa with sweet and sour chutney for me," Jay added, licking his lips in anticipation.
One by one, they placed their orders, each selecting their favorite version of the beloved snack. The vendor worked quickly, handing them steaming hot samosas wrapped in paper. The first bite was heavenly—crispy, spicy, and bursting with flavors.
As they ate, Prachi called Chaahat.
"Hey, the shop's decoration is done! If you come now, you can suggest any last-minute changes," she informed excitedly.
Tia, who was standing beside Chaahat, overheard and nearly jumped in excitement.