RED NOTES AND KISSES-Chapter 50: LAZ -

Four years ago.

The late summer sun stretched lazily across the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold, amber, and faint pinks.

The football field, bordered by tall, weathered bleachers, was a vibrant green carpet, its perfectly trimmed grass shimmering under the soft light.

Heatwaves danced off the asphalt track encircling the field, and the occasional scent of freshly cut grass drifted on the warm breeze.

Beyond the field, clusters of oak trees stood proud, their leaves rustling softly, whispering secrets of the season.

The laughter and chatter of teammates filled the air as Laz and the rest of the football team took a break from their rigorous practice.

The clinking of water bottles, the dull thud of footballs hitting the ground, and the buzz of distant cicadas created a symphony that epitomized a late afternoon in the heart of summer.

"Bro, I’ve been meaning to tell you this," Grey began, wiping sweat off his brow with his forearm.

His eyes wandered to the bleachers where Frida sat, scrolling through her phone, her face aglow from the sunlight.

Laz glanced up, mid-sip of his water. "What about?"

"Your bestie," Grey said, nudging him with a mischievous grin. "She’s so fine, bruh. Can I ask her out?" His gaze lingered on Frida, who seemed blissfully unaware of their conversation.

Laz’s jaw clenched as his grip tightened around the bottle. "Hell no."

Grey chuckled, clearly enjoying the reaction. "Why not? I mean, you’ve got Tiffany and Brittany, the two hottest girls in school, practically fighting over you. The least you could do is let me get with Frida."

"Bro, I said no," Laz snapped, his tone sharp as he shot Grey a glare. "You go through skirts more than field goals. Don’t act like a saint."

Grey rolled his eyes dramatically. "Come on, don’t be a dick. You know how Laz feels about Frida," Zack chimed in with a smirk, his voice dripping with amusement.

"How I feel about Frida?" Laz arched a brow, his confusion evident as he turned to Zack.

"Don’t play dumb," Zack teased, his grin widening. "You totally like her."

Laz threw his head back and laughed, a sound that echoed across the field. "Bro, shut up. She’s my best friend. I’ve known her since they put us in diapers."

"And?" Zack countered, raising an eyebrow.

"She’s like the sister I never had," Laz retorted, his voice firm as if saying it out loud would make it true.

"Riiiiiiight," Grey interjected, tossing the football in the air casually. "Except she’s not." His smirk turned smug. "And I think she totally likes you. You’re just too blind and busy with your fan girls to notice."

Laz hesitated, the words hitting him unexpectedly.

His gaze drifted back to the bleachers, where Frida sat with her long, brown hair cascading over her shoulders.

The soft breeze teased the strands, making them glint like liquid gold under the sunlight. Her warm, cocoa-brown eyes lit up as she smiled at something on her phone.

She looked up suddenly, meeting Laz’s gaze. Her smile widened as she waved at him, and for a split second, he felt his heart skip a beat.

What was that?

"Wanna make a bet?" Zack’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Laz turned back to him, frowning. "What kind of bet?"

"I bet if you ask her out, she’ll say yes," Zack said, his tone as mischievous as the glint in his eyes.

Laz rolled his eyes, scoffing. "I’m not asking her out. She’s not my type. Plus, I don’t date."

"Yeah, you just hook up," Tyler snorted from the back, earning a glare from Laz.

"Come on," Zack pressed. "Prove you don’t like her. Just be all nice and sweet, ask her to be your girlfriend. If she says yes, you can break up with her and make a joke about it in front of us all."

Grey laughed. "Unless, of course, you’re scared to admit you actually like her."

Laz clenched his jaw, the challenge stinging his pride. It wasn’t a big deal, he told himself. It’s not like Frida actually liked him.

"Deal," he said, the word leaving his mouth before he could think twice.

As the team resumed practice, Laz couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in his chest.

Hours later, as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the field, he stood waiting near the track.

This was where she jogged every evening after volleyball practice.

And then he saw her.

Frida jogged toward him, her white tank top clinging to her skin, glistening with sweat.

Her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, strands sticking to her flushed cheeks. Her expression was focused, determined, until she noticed him.

Her face softened immediately, her lips curving into a radiant smile that made his chest tighten.

She raised a hand to wave, but before she could reach him, her foot caught on an uneven patch of the track, and she stumbled, falling to the ground.

"Frida!" Laz sprinted toward her, his heart pounding as he dropped to his knees beside her. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

She winced as he gently touched her ankle, his fingers brushing against her skin. "Is it here?" he asked softly, his voice laced with concern.

She remained quiet, biting her lip to suppress a giggle. When he looked up, his confusion melted into surprise as she burst into laughter.

"I was joking," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You looked so cute being worried about me."

Laz froze, his breath hitching as her face hovered inches from his.

The sunset bathed her features in a golden glow, her brown eyes so rich and warm they looked like melted chocolate.

Her laughter faded as she noticed the intensity in his gaze.

A blush crept up her cheeks, turning her skin the softest shade of pink. She was breathtaking.

He couldn’t look away, couldn’t move, couldn’t think of anything else but how she looked in this exact moment.

"Laz?" Her voice was soft, almost hesitant.

"Yes," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You’re staring," she said, her words a mix of shyness and amusement.

"I know," he admitted, his tone unguarded. "I can’t stop."

And in that moment, with the summer breeze wrapping around them and the golden light fading into twilight, Laz knew this wasn’t just a bet.

It was something much bigger, something he wasn’t ready to face. But as he held her gaze, he couldn’t deny the truth staring back at him.