Chapter Text
It’s been 2 months since their breakup. And yet, Isa still feels the pain fresh, as if it was just yesterday that he’d chosen Livia, letting her cry in the rain. She hates him for leaving her. She hates herself even more for loving him still.
Isa’s not usually one to hold grudges. In fact, it was her grudge against Pietro himself for the beauty pageant way back then that hadn’t lasted more than a week. Him and her and basketball—it’s an endless cycle, one that she’ll never be able to escape from, even now in high school.
As expected, the Bonfire Pact didn’t work out. Monica’s currently at her classical studies high school, and Giulio is at the IT school he wanted. The rest of 3D is spread out between performing arts schools and the leftovers stuck to the pact and are at the scientific high school. Including Isa.
Monica calls her every day during their shared break time, asking how she is. There’s an unseen question that is never uttered but always known— did you run into Pietro?
Because of course they’re at the same high school. And of course Livia is at the same one too. Isa wonders what she’s done to deserve such torment in her everyday life. It’s not like they purposely end up wherever she is; they just happen to be everywhere in the school that Isa’s started to busy her lunchtimes practising basketball.
The girls on the team are sort of nice. They’re just already in a tight-knit group, one with no space left for her to squeeze into. It’s lonely. Isa misses Monica. When they had enrolled in the scientific high school, she’d still been with Pietro then, and had thought to herself, if Pietro’s with me, I’ll have everything I need.
It’s funny how things turn out.
“Isa!”
She looks up. It’s Livia. And, per the unofficial relationship laws, Pietro attached at her arm. He looks distinctly uncomfortable.
Good, Isa thinks savagely. I want you to be as uncomfortable as I am hurt.
She plasters a smile on her face and waves back. “Livia. Hi.”
Livia takes a step forward, and Isa’s expression wavers. She silently begs that this won’t turn into a conversation—she has just had 1 hour of physics, and her brain is completely fried. If Livia says anything remotely annoying, Isa knows she’ll lash out and spill everything that’s been building up inside of her, and ruin whatever’s left of their friendship.
Isa wonders whether she even still wants to be friends with Livia.
Unfortunately, while she’s been thinking, Livia has begun to start talking about their physics exam on Monday, which Isa has been studying hard for to distract herself from… him. She tries to hide her weariness, nodding and smiling when Livia complains about their teacher. Isa refuses to make eye contact with Pietro, furiously trying to ignore him.
Her body recognises him, subconsciously drifting nearer to him. Isa uses all of her current brainpower to remain rooted to the ground, stiffly replying when Livia asks a question. Her mood seems to leak into her voice, because Pietro nudges Livia.
“Let’s go,” he says.
“Pietro, I’m talking to Isa,” Livia replies, furrowing her eyebrows.
“I’m feeling hungry.” Pietro tugs on her arm, and she frowns deeply.
“Fine, then. See you around, Isa,” she says, and when they finally leave, Isa can hear them bickering from across the courtyard.
She breathes out shakily, willing herself not to cry. She can’t cry here, not in front of everyone, not because of Pietro and Livia. Crying doesn’t solve problems. Isa tightens her grip on her bag straps, and makes her way to the basketball courts.
The gym is thankfully empty. Isa throws her hair up into a ponytail, and dumps her things down on the benches as she starts dribbling the ball, preparing to shoot.
Isa always feels better when she’s shooting hoops. She can lose all her stress, and immerse herself in the game, focusing solely on getting the ball into the hoop. It’s her version of meditation, if you will. And yet, today she’s been missing almost all of her shots.
She knows why. It always comes down to him, really. Pietro.
Isa readies her arm for another shot. Throws the ball. Misses. She sniffles, letting the ball bounce away as she collapses down on the court, arms thrown back to support herself. She hates how much she misses him still.
“Isa?”
She freezes. Isa knows that voice. Of course he had the same idea, because they’re really two people cut from the same cloth—him and her and basketball, as always. She wonders whether she can pretend she hadn’t heard him.
“I know you can hear me, Isa.” Footsteps echo throughout the gym, as Pietro makes his way towards her. Every cell in Isa’s body is screaming at her to run, run, run, but she remains sitting on the court, adamant in keeping her place in the gym. She got here first.
“What are you doing here?” she finally says, sitting up straight.
Pietro looks down at her. It’s the first time she’s been alone with him since their breakup. If Isa shuts her eyes, she can still see him apologising, hugging her as the rain soaked through her clothes and left her shivering.
“Same as you,” he replies. He hesitates, before saying, “Maybe we could share—”
“No.” Isa scrambles up immediately, her shoes squeaking on the floor. Pietro’s expression shutters for a second, and she almost feels bad, but then remembers why they have to act like this. What he did to her. “I’ll leave.”
“Isa—” Pietro starts.
“I’ll leave,” she says, and in some sick sort of way, Isa thinks that this is her way of claiming back him leaving her and choosing Livia. She grabs her bag messily and storms out of the gym, her eyes welled up with unshed tears.
Something falls out of her bag, but Isa can’t bring herself to care. She wonders whether she’ll ever move on from Pietro.
Pietro watches Isa’s figure disappear through the gym door’s window, and almost slumps down in defeat. Of course she still hates him. She deserves to, really. He regrets what he did to her every day. He was just too caught up with Livia, that he didn’t stop to think of how hurt Isabel would’ve felt. Pietro hates himself.
He had left Livia in the cafeteria after their run-in with Isa. God, she had looked so trapped, talking to Livia, that he just had to make up some excuse for them to leave. She didn’t thank him. Not that he expects her to. He’s the one who got them all into this situation, anyway.
He stands for a moment longer, and considers leaving the gym when something catches his eye. It’s a bracelet, lying on the floor of the gym. Pietro jogs toward it, picking it up and examining it carefully. His heart drops. He knows whose bracelet this is, because he was the one who had made it.
It’s Isa’s. He had made it for her sometime when they were still dating, and he remembers the hours it took choosing the colours specifically that he knew she liked. He clutches it in his fist. Pietro doesn’t know whether Isa had purposely dropped the bracelet, but he does know that he wants to give it back to her.
He slips the bracelet into his pocket, and makes a plan.