Chapter 2: Back to the Breaking Point

"When I first joined, Coach was even tougher. I had to swing eight thousand times a day, and every move had to be perfect or I'd get yelled at. Not only that, before I even made varsity, he threw me in with the seniors."

I winced, remembering those days. Blisters on my palms, sweat soaking through my shirt. Coach barking at me from across the gym.

"He pushed me hard, but it made me stronger."

"So, Savannah, Coach is doing this for your own good. Look at me—I'm proof. I worked hard, practiced just like this, and that's how I got here."

I tried to smile, hoping she'd see it as encouragement, not bragging. But she just stared at the floor, her lower lip trembling. Guess it didn't land the way I hoped.

Who knew those words would send Savannah running out the front gate in tears?

The next thing I knew, the front door slammed, and I saw her running down the driveway, backpack bouncing against her shoulders. My stomach dropped.

...and almost lost her shot at fencing, at everything.

Coach Miller from the neighboring district was always hanging around, looking for new recruits. I never trusted him. When I heard he'd found Savannah crying outside and offered her a ride. I knew it was bad news.

She was rescued, sure. But her confidence was shattered. And after that, she hated me.

After that, Savannah barely spoke to me. She avoided my eyes in practice, stopped sitting with me at lunch. I could see the resentment building, day after day. It hurt.

Until Graham came back from summer training and, just like that, got me kicked off the team.

He didn't even let me explain. He just made the call, and that was that. No appeals, no second chances.

Only then did I realize—what I thought were heartfelt words made Savannah, who hadn't even passed tryouts, think I was just showing off.

It hit me like a punch to the gut. All that time I thought I was being supportive, she saw it as me rubbing my success in her face. I never saw it coming.

Everything that happened after? It all started right there.

One misunderstanding after another, piling up. Until there was no way out.

I threw myself into training, hoping to make nationals. But because of one careless sentence, I lost everything.

I poured everything into training, pushing myself until my hands bled, but nothing could erase the damage. My reputation, my friendships, my future—they all slipped through my fingers. I was alone.

Maybe it was all that regret and resentment that brought me back here.

Sometimes I wonder if the universe heard me cursing my own fate and decided to give me another shot. Or maybe it's just a cruel joke.

Eventually, Savannah stopped knocking and ran crying to the team lounge—right into Tyler Martinez.

I could hear her footsteps fading, her sniffles echoing down the hallway. Then, a sudden hush, followed by the familiar sound of Tyler's easygoing laugh. Of course it was Tyler.

She looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears, and called out, "Tyler." Her voice was high and sweet, the way she always sounded when she wanted something. Tyler was a sucker for it. Every time.

Tyler was all concern. "Savannah, what's wrong?"

He knelt down to her level, concern etched across his face. Tyler always played the hero—never missed a chance to step in. He loved being the hero.

She started crying again as she complained:

"Before Coach left, he told me to swing my sword five thousand times every day. Today, after just five hundred swings, my wrist is already swollen. Tyler, look at this."

She thrust her arm forward, her sleeve rolled up to reveal her wrist. The skin was red and puffy, a few faint bruises showing where the guard had pressed too hard. Drama queen.

Tyler's face darkened. "How can Coach be so harsh?"

He grabbed an ice pack from the mini-fridge, wrapped it in a towel, and pressed it gently to her wrist. "You gotta take care of yourself, Savannah."

He winked at her, like they were sharing some secret. "Nobody's gonna tell."

"Besides, with me watching out for you, what are you worried about?" Typical Tyler.

He flashed her a crooked grin, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm basically your bodyguard, you know."

Savannah pouted, looking worried:

"But Mariah is the same age as me. She's already on varsity, and I haven't even made the junior team. I'm so useless."

She kicked at the floor, her voice barely above a whisper. I could hear the frustration, the jealousy, simmering beneath the surface. I knew that feeling.

Tyler replied calmly, "You're a star, Savannah. She was just an abandoned kid Coach picked up. How can she compare to you?"