Badass in Disguise Chapter 175

Jade's POV:

The gymnasium fell eerily quiet as Jade took her position at center court. Students from both schools leaned forward in their seats, expressions ranging from confusion to outright amusement. The silence didn't last long before whispers rippled through the Princeton section.

"Is Astor serious? He's putting Instagram girl as center?" A guy in an orange Princeton hoodie snickered to his friend.

"This is what happens when you're desperate," another replied. "They're basically forfeiting at this point."

From the Randview side, the commentary was even less charitable. "Princeton's officially given up," a tall blonde in Randview blue called out. "At least the view got better!"

"They're not even trying to win anymore," someone else shouted. "Just throwing in the towel with style!"

I ignored them all, focusing instead on Brock Reynolds, who stood across from me with a smirk plastered across his face. His teammates had gathered around him, all stealing glances at me while trying not to laugh too obviously.

"So," Brock said, lowering his voice as he stepped closer. "You ever played basketball before?"

"I'm learning on the job," I replied coolly.

Brock's smirk widened into a grin. "Like you said earlier, things can get physical on the court. If you fall down or start crying when you lose, Mr. Haxton won't hold it against us, will he?"

I tilted my head slightly. "Getting cold feet? You can forfeit now if you're scared."

His teammates snickered behind him, clearly enjoying what they perceived as an easy win. Brock's eyes narrowed slightly, but his smile remained.

"How about we sweeten the deal?" he suggested, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "If I win, we become friends. If you win, I'll do whatever you want."

Chase, who had moved to stand beside me, scoffed loudly. "Just who the fuck do you think you are? She wouldn't be caught dead hanging out with you."

"She can speak for herself," Brock replied, not taking his eyes off me.

I met his gaze steadily. "If you can steal the ball from me even once, I'll consider it a loss."

The statement hung in the air for a moment before Brock's teammates burst into laughter. Even my own team looked at me with wide eyes, as if I'd completely lost my mind.

"Is she serious?" one of my teammates whispered to Chase.

Brock chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Then I guess I accept. Let's start this show."

The referee approached with the ball, signaling for us to take our positions. Chase gave me one last concerned glance before backing away. The Princeton team looked torn between wanting to win and assuming defeat was inevitable. Brock's team, on the other hand, seemed relaxed and confident, already savoring their victory.

The referee blew his whistle and tossed the ball high into the air. Brock crouched, preparing to leap—but I was already moving. I launched myself upward with a burst of speed that seemed to catch everyone by surprise. My hand connected with the ball first, easily tapping it toward Chase, who stood frozen for a split second before he recovered and caught it.

"Holy shit," Chase whispered, then quickly passed to his teammate.

The teammate, still stunned by what had just happened, fumbled the pass. Brock and Chase both lunged for the loose ball, but I was faster. I slipped between them, scooped up the ball, and darted toward the three-point line.

The gym was dead silent as I squared my shoulders, jumped, and released the ball in one fluid motion. It arced through the air and swished through the net without touching the rim.

"Three points for Princeton!" the announcer's voice broke the stunned silence. "Score is now 10-13!"

For a moment, nobody moved. The players on the court stared at me as if I'd just performed some impossible magic trick. Then Chase let out a whoop that seemed to break the spell.

"What the actual fuck was that?" Brock demanded, his face flushed with anger as he turned to Chase. "You said she didn't play basketball!"

"She doesn't," Chase replied, his grin threatening to split his face. "At least, that's what she told me."

Brock's eyes narrowed as he looked back at me. "So that's how it is. Playing games with me? Fine. That was just a lucky shot. Let's see if you can do it again when I'm actually trying."

As Randview took the ball for a bottom-line throw-in, I positioned myself near their guard. The moment the ball left his hands, I intercepted it with a quick step and leap that left him gaping. I dribbled past two defenders who moved too slowly to even touch me, my feet barely seeming to touch the ground.

At the three-point line, I jumped again. Brock lunged toward me, his hand outstretched to block my shot, but he was too late. The ball sailed over his fingertips and through the hoop with another satisfying swish.

"Another three-pointer from Morgan!" the announcer shouted, excitement evident in his voice. "Princeton closing the gap, 13-13!"

The Princeton section erupted into cheers. Students who had been preparing to leave sat back down, suddenly invested in the game. Even the professor who had been grading papers in the corner looked up, his glasses sliding down his nose as he stared at the court in disbelief.

"Jade, you sneaky little devil," Chase laughed, jogging up to me. "Why didn't you tell me you were this good?"

I shrugged, not bothering to answer as I took my defensive position. Chase's grin widened as he turned to his team. "Come on, guys! We're back in this!"

Brock's expression had transformed completely. The casual arrogance was gone, replaced by intense focus. He barked orders at his teammates: "Tighten up that defense! Don't let her get free! Someone stay on her—she's too damn fast!"

The game resumed with new energy. Brock dribbled the ball down the court, his eyes locked on me as if waiting for me to make a move. I stayed in position, watching his teammates arrange themselves around him. When he finally passed to his forward, I was already moving.

I slipped between two defenders, intercepted the pass, and took off down the court. Brock sprinted after me, determination etched on his face. He was fast—probably the fastest on his team—but not fast enough. I pivoted around him, leaving him grasping at air, and completed another perfect shot.

"Morgan scores again!" the announcer's voice was practically a shout now. "Princeton takes the lead, 16-13!"

The Princeton crowd was on their feet, the earlier skepticism completely forgotten. Chants of "Jade! Jade! Jade!" echoed through the gymnasium. Even the professors were watching now, their papers and phones forgotten.

Brock's face was a storm cloud as he gathered his team. "What the hell are you all doing? It's one girl! Just box her out already!"

The next play, Randview tried a different approach. Two players stayed close to me, attempting to block my movements while Brock controlled the ball. I waited patiently, conserving my energy until I saw my opening. When Brock attempted a pass to his forward, I burst between my guards, intercepted the ball, and raced toward the basket.

All five Randview players converged on me, forming a wall of bodies. Instead of trying to break through, I stopped at the three-point line and shot. The ball sailed over their heads and through the net, extending Princeton's lead.

"This is unbelievable, folks!" the announcer was practically screaming now. "Morgan has single-handedly turned this game around! Princeton leads 19-13!"

The Princeton players were ecstatic, high-fiving each other and me as we ran back to defense. Chase looked like he might explode with excitement, shouting encouragement to the team.

"Keep it up! We've got this!" he yelled, slapping me on the back. "Jade, you're fucking amazing!"

Brock, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to punch something.