Rowena
The gymnasium erupted with excited cheers as the first friendly match kicked off. I leaned forward eagerly, gripping the edge of my seat as two contestants—one wearing white, the other in our camp’s navy blue color—began circling one another on the mat.
Beside me, I felt Emma tense up. I glanced over to see her gripping the edge of the bench, her mouth set in a hard line and a determined look in her eyes. But she wasn’t looking at our warrior in navy blue.
She was looking at the one in white.
In fact, upon a second glance, I realized that I recognized the warrior in white from a picture she had shown me.
I shot her an amused look. “Why didn’t you mention that your boyfriend was competing today?”
She shrugged, glancing over at me with a bashful look in her eye
