CROSS-CHECKED (VSOO)

22

Jisoo

Alisha wouldn't stop staring at me like she was trying to read my soul.

"So let me get this straight," she said, pacing the room. "Jay tried to start something again. And Taehyung walked in. And defended you. Like actually defended you. Like real human decency defended you."

I rubbed my face. "Can you please not say it like that?"

"Why? You embarrassed?" She crossed her arms. "Because it sounds like someone might care."

I scoffed. "No. He doesn't. Don't start with that."

Alisha raised a brow. "Then why are you turning red?"

"I'm not."

She gave me a look that said you absolutely are, but thankfully she didn't say it out loud.

"He didn't do it because of me," I said quietly. "He just hates Jay. They've always hated each other."

Alisha sat next to me on the bed, nudging my knee. "Maybe that's true... but you should've seen Taehyung's face today at practice. He was... different."

I frowned. "Different how?"

"Focused. Quiet. On edge." She shrugged. "You being upset affects him more than you think."

I felt something lodged in my throat, tight and confusing.
"That doesn't make sense."

"Jisoo." She sighed, brushing hair from her face. "Feelings don't make sense. If they did, Sean wouldn't be acting like a lovesick puppy around me every single day."

I snorted despite everything.
Alisha smiled softly at me, then her phone buzzed and her expression shifted.

"Ugh — coach wants me to go over the formations with the Crestridge cheer captain. I have to go."

I nodded, grateful for the small break in intensity.

Alisha grabbed her bag, pausing at the door. "We'll talk more, okay? And... Jisoo?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not leaving your side. Ever." She pointed at me. "Especially with those two maniacs on the team."

Despite everything, I smiled.
"Promise?"

She smirked. "Always," she said before leaving.

The room felt quieter without her. Too quiet. My head was still a storm of thoughts — Jay, the past, today, Taehyung's voice, the way he stood there like the ground beneath him didn't shake even when mine did.

I needed air.
Space.
Movement.

I grabbed my speaker and cheer shoes and left.

The gym was empty when I walked in — just the faint echo of the last people who'd been here. I tied my hair into a high ponytail, breathed in, plugged in my speaker, and blasted the cheer beat.

The sound hit my chest like adrenaline.

I didn't think — I moved.
Jumps, sharp turns, arm motions slicing the air, footwork hitting perfectly on beat. The routine wasn't official, not for the team — it was mine. Something I made months ago to calm myself when my mind was too loud.

Cheer made me feel capable.
Strong.
Like I wasn't the girl people tore apart online.
Like I wasn't the girl Jay hated.

I danced until my lungs burned and my heartbeat steadied into a rhythm that felt like mine again.

When the music ended, I bent down by my bag, reaching for my water bottle.

And then—

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Slow, rhythmic.
I stiffened.

I turned.

Taehyung stood at the entrance of the gym, hockey stick resting on his shoulder. His hair was damp, hanging over his forehead, his cheeks flushed like he'd been practicing hard.

He was smiling.

"Wow," he said, walking in. "Didn't know you had moves like that."

I kept my expression cold, neutral — or at least I tried.
"Thanks."

I grabbed my bag, desperate to avoid the kind of tension that always found us. But before I could swing it over my shoulder, a hand gently wrapped around my arm.

I stopped breathing.

He pulled me toward him — not forcefully, but close enough that the space between us nearly disappeared. I could hear his heartbeat thumping. Feel the warmth radiating off him. His breath brushed my cheek, peppermint-scented, and it made my heart skid in my chest.

His eyes locked onto mine, intense, searching.
Then softer.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked quietly.

My face burned instantly.
Avoiding? Me? No way I was admitting that.

"I'm not," I whispered.

"Yeah," he said, stepping closer — too close. "You are."

His gaze flicked down for a split second. To my lips. My breath caught. My entire body froze.

Then in a low whisper, almost like he couldn't believe he was saying it out loud:

"You do miracles to me."

My heart slammed painfully against my ribs.

What?

His eyes widened just a bit — like he just realized what had slipped out. He let go of my arm quickly, turning away, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

I stood there, stunned, nerves buzzing.

Was that... real?
Did he actually say that?

I swallowed hard, words tangling in my throat before one managed to escape.

"Thank you... for earlier."
He turned his head slightly.
"For standing up for me."

He didn't turn fully, but his shoulder relaxed.

"No problem," he muttered.

I forced a smile — a small one, but real — then grabbed my bag before my face could turn even redder.

As I reached the doors, I felt him watching me.

And I hated how my heartbeat reacted.
How warm I felt.
How much his words echoed in my mind.

You do miracles to me.

I walked out of the gym before I could let those words get too deep.

But they already had.