Bryan POV
The next morning, Bryan's alarm screamed again, just as loud and annoying as the day before. He slammed his hand on it so hard the device nearly flew off the table.
"Ugh, not again," he groaned, running a hand through his messy hair. "You and your loud mouth, stupid alarm."
He dragged himself out of bed, still irritated. But what truly made his blood boil wasn't the alarm — it was the memory of yesterday.
Becky.
The bold, sharp-tongued best friend of that "pig," as he had called Maria. The way she had talked back to him, insulted him in front of Joe and other students, hitting his chest like she wasn't scared of him at all — it replayed in his head like a movie he didn't want to watch.
He glared at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. "Can you believe that girl? Talking to me like that? Me?" he muttered to himself. "She's lucky I didn't say something worse."
But deep down, he knew he had no comeback yesterday. She had completely shut him down. Every word she said hit like a slap, and the laughter from Maria had only made it sting more.
"Becky," he hissed under his breath, spitting out the toothpaste. "That girl has no respect."
He took a quick shower and got dressed, slipping into his uniform — the same white and blue combo that made him look like every teacher's favorite and every student's crush. He grabbed his bag and laptop, then headed downstairs.
"Good morning, Bryan," Mrs. Helen said warmly from the dining table.
Bryan kissed her cheek briefly and mumbled, "Morning, Mom."
"You seem grumpy again," she said, giving him a knowing look. "Don't tell me you're still angry about Maria."
Bryan scoffed. "Please, Mom. I've got better things to think about. Like the Runner Cup today."
Mrs. Helen smiled. "Good. You're participating, then?"
"Yeah," Bryan said, pouring himself a glass of juice. "Not like I have a choice. It gives marks."
"Well, do your best," she said softly. "And try not to cause trouble."
Bryan only rolled his eyes and smiled charmingly. "Mom, me? Trouble? Never."
A few minutes later, he was in the car heading to school. His driver, Mr. Collins, glanced at him through the mirror. "Big day, sir?"
Bryan smirked. "Yeah. A running competition. Not that I need the money."
The driver chuckled. "Just don't let the others outrun you."
Bryan leaned back. "Trust me, I won't. I might hate my team, but I'll still make sure we don't embarrass ourselves."
When he arrived at school, the atmosphere was buzzing with excitement. Students were already stretching and jogging around the field, preparing for the big day.
Joe ran up to him immediately, grinning. "Bryan, you ready for this?"
"Do I look ready for this?" Bryan said dryly, adjusting his watch.
Joe laughed. "Man, you should've seen Rachel's face when she found out she wasn't paired with you. She almost cried!"
Bryan smirked. "Serves her right."
Then his expression darkened. "But can you believe I got paired with Maria again? And her best friend—Becky—had the audacity to talk back to me yesterday. In public!"
Joe chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah, that was wild. She's got a sharp mouth. But… she's kinda fine though."
Bryan shot him a glare. "Don't start, Joe."
"Hey, I'm just saying," Joe said, raising his hands. "At least she's got guts. Most girls here worship you. She doesn't."
Bryan ignored him, his gaze wandering across the field until he spotted Maria and Becky on the other side. Maria was stretching clumsily, her face already flushed from the morning sun. Becky stood beside her, confident as ever, giving instructions like a coach.
Bryan sighed. "This is going to be a long, long day."
Joe smirked. "Yup. But hey… if she falls while running, that'll be hilarious."
Bryan couldn't help but laugh. "You're terrible."
The laughter faded quickly, though, when Bryan looked at Maria again. For reasons he couldn't quite explain, he felt a strange mix of annoyance and curiosity. Maybe it was the way she looked so determined, even when everyone thought she couldn't do it. Or maybe it was because, for the first time, someone—Becky—had made him look foolish.
Either way, he wasn't about to lose today. Not to Maria. Not to anyone.
After what felt like an eternity, the school field was transformed into a mini stadium. Rows of chairs lined the sides, filled with students, teachers, and guests from other schools who had come to witness the much-talked-about Runner Cup Competition. The atmosphere was electric—cheers, camera flashes, and banners waved across the stands.
Bryan sat with his team under their sectioned tent, feeling a mix of boredom and mild irritation. He was already regretting agreeing to participate. Joe, seated a few rows ahead with Rachel's team, kept waving at him like a fool. Bryan ignored him.
The principal, standing on the podium with a microphone, cleared his throat. "Good morning, students! Today marks the annual Fabulous High Runner Cup Competition! Ten teams, five rounds, and one winning group that will walk away with the grand prize of five million naira and the school's honor!"
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Bryan folded his arms, muttering under his breath, "Five million… and I'm here sweating for it like it's a billion."
Beside him, Maria's nervous energy was almost tangible. She adjusted her shoes, avoided his gaze, and fidgeted with her wristband. Bryan rolled his eyes. Great, he thought. She's already panicking. This is going to be a disaster.
Then came the lineup announcement.
"There are ten teams," the announcer continued, "each group will face another team in the first round. The winners of each round will move forward until the final race decides our champions!"
Students clapped and shouted as the teacher read the team lists.
Team One: Rachel, Joe, and two others.
Team Two: Becky, Mimi, and two others.
Team Three: Freda and her three teammates.
Team Four: Bryan, Maria, and two others.
The moment Bryan's name was mentioned alongside Maria's, a ripple of laughter spread across the crowd.
"Bryan's stuck with the pig again!" someone whispered loudly.
Bryan clenched his jaw. Ignore them.
Maria's face flushed red, but she kept her chin up. Bryan caught her expression for just a second — embarrassment mixed with stubborn pride.
The teacher continued, "Each team will choose one representative to run per round. The fastest teams advance to the semifinals and finals!"
Rachel stood tall, her confidence radiating. "I'll run first for our team," she announced proudly.
Her team cheered.
Mimi followed, volunteering for hers. Freda's group picked one of the boys.
Then it was Bryan's team's turn. Everyone looked at him.
"Bryan," one of his teammates said. "You're obviously the best runner. You should go first."
Bryan smirked, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. "Obviously."
Maria looked down, silent. She knew she didn't stand a chance in speed, but still, a small voice inside her whispered, I'll get my turn.
The whistle blew, and the first match began. Two runners took the track—Rachel versus Mimi.
The crowd roared as the girls sprinted forward, their shoes pounding against the ground. Rachel was fast, sharp, her long legs cutting through the air effortlessly. Mimi gave her a good chase, but Rachel crossed the finish line first, flipping her hair triumphantly as cheers erupted.
Bryan clapped lazily, glancing at Maria, who watched intently, her hands clenched.
Round after round continued, each team sending their best runners. The noise grew louder with every whistle, every finish line, every cheer.
Finally, it was Bryan's team's turn.
"Team Four to the starting line!" the coach called out.
Bryan stood, dusting off his shorts and fixing his headband. "Let's get this over with," he said, stepping onto the track.
Maria watched him quietly, her heart thumping. She admired how effortlessly confident he looked, even if he was arrogant.
Their opponents took their mark. The whistle blew.
Bryan shot forward like lightning, his sneakers slapping the ground in perfect rhythm. The crowd screamed his name, the sound filling the stadium like thunder. He overtook the other runner with ease, his body moving with perfect form.
Within seconds, he crossed the finish line—first place.
The crowd erupted in wild cheers, chanting his name:
"Bryan! Bryan! Bryan!"
He slowed to a jog, smirking, brushing sweat off his forehead. He turned to his team, giving them a confident wink. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it's done."
The announcer's voice echoed through the speakers. "Team Four wins Round One! Advancing to the next level!"
Maria's lips curved into a small smile. For once, she was part of a winning team — even if Bryan barely acknowledged her.
But as she clapped quietly, Bryan caught her eye for a split second. The same pride that made him arrogant was also the pride that made him wonder: could she really prove him wrong
The first round ended with wild cheers, and Bryan could practically taste victory in the air. He was used to winning — to being the star of the show. Students gathered around, patting him on the back and shouting his name.
"That's my guy!" Joe yelled from Rachel's side, grinning.
Bryan gave a cocky smirk. "Of course. Did you expect less?"
He dropped onto a bench near his team's tent, grabbed a bottle of water, and leaned back with a satisfied sigh. But before he could relax for long, the coach blew the whistle again.
"Round two! Each team, send out your next runner!"
Bryan's teammates looked at him expectantly.
"Don't even think about it," Bryan said, waving his hand dismissively. "I already carried this team once. Let someone else sweat for a change."
One of the boys shrugged. "Then who's running?"
All eyes slowly turned to Maria.
She froze. "Me?"
Bryan laughed under his breath. "You? Please. You'll faint before you reach halfway."
Maria's jaw tightened. "I can do it."
"Don't make this a joke," Bryan said, shaking his head. "This is a race, not a picnic."
Maria ignored him, stepping forward with quiet determination. The teacher looked at her with mild surprise but nodded approvingly. "Alright, Maria from Team Four and Henry from Team Five — to the starting line!"
The crowd murmured. A few students snickered, some even booed.
"She's going to fall before she gets to the first curve!" someone shouted.
"Why's she even trying?" another laughed.
Bryan folded his arms, smirking. "This should be fun," he muttered.
Maria stood at the line, her heart hammering in her chest. The noise of the crowd blurred in her ears. She thought of every insult, every cruel laugh, every time someone looked at her and saw nothing but her weight. Then she took a deep breath and looked ahead.
The whistle blew.
Maria ran.
At first, she was slow — her pace awkward, her breathing uneven. Laughter rippled through the stands, but she didn't stop. She pushed her body harder, her arms moving faster, her legs burning with effort.
Halfway through, something changed. She found a rhythm — steady, strong, determined. The crowd's laughter turned into gasps as she overtook her opponent, closing the gap one stride at a time.
"Is she… actually catching up?" Joe whispered in disbelief.
Bryan sat up, eyes narrowing. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Maria's ponytail whipped in the wind as she picked up speed. Every ounce of strength in her body screamed, but she refused to slow down. She wasn't running just for the race — she was running for herself, for every time someone called her ugly or fat or useless.
When she crossed the finish line — just a split second after Henry — the stadium fell silent for a heartbeat, then erupted in wild cheers.
"She almost beat him!"
"Did you see that?!"
"Maria actually ran the whole track!"
Bryan blinked, stunned. He had expected her to collapse halfway, but she had nearly won.
Maria bent over, hands on her knees, panting hard. Sweat poured down her face, but a proud smile curved her lips. She looked exhausted — but satisfied.
The coach blew the whistle again. "Team Four takes second place in Round Two! That means they advance to the next stage!"
Cheers echoed again, and Maria looked toward Becky, who stood cheering wildly from the sidelines. Becky's grin was wide, proud, and filled with admiration.
Bryan, still seated, found himself clapping slowly — almost unconsciously. He quickly stopped when Joe noticed.
"Whoa, bro, are you clapping for her?" Joe teased.
Bryan frowned. "No! I was just—" He stopped, realizing he had no excuse. "Just forget it."
Joe smirked. "You're impressed, admit it."
Bryan turned away, pretending to watch something else, but deep down, he was impressed. Not that he'd ever say it aloud.
For the first time, he saw Maria differently — not as a joke or a burden, but as someone with quiet fire burning inside her.
He leaned back, crossing his arms, watching her laugh breathlessly with Becky. A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Not bad," he muttered under his breath. "Not bad at all."