Part-297

  And this time, they wouldn’t just win. They’d make it t.

  The air was heavy, thick with tension after a grueling day of matches and varbal war between Mohammadpur High. Siletled over the judo team like a wet b. Even the usual chatter from Ryan and Sourov was absent, repced by a collective exhaustion. Each member sat slumped on the gym’s benches, wiping sweat from their brows and nursing sore muscles. It felt like they were carrying the weight of both expectations and fatigue.

  Coach Gin who is in the driver seat, an old hand at managing tired athletes, cpped his hands loudly, breaking the sileh a grin that seemed just a bit too cheerful for the moment. “All right, team! How about we grab some grilled chi? My treat!”

  Sourov’s head snapped up instantly, his eyes lighting up as though Puja (Sourov is Hindu) had e early. “Coach, you’re officially my favorite person!”

  Ryan, slumped beside him, let out a tired but genuine ugh. “’t say no to free food, we?” His tone was light, the edges of exhaustioing away at the mention of food.

  James, still toweling off the sweat from his neck, couldn’t help but join in. “After a day like this? I’ll take two ptes.” He shot a pyful g Sourov, knowing his friend would easily try to out-eat him.

  Even the usually stoic Zia and Abbas cracked small smiles, nodding in agreement. “Might as well,” Zia said, leaning back against the wall with a rare look of satisfa. “We’ll he fuel for the quarter-finals.” Abbas, the silent enigma of the team, gave a single approving nod. For him, that ractically a cheer.

  The mood in the room began to lift—at least among the guys. The girls, however, didn’t seem to share the same enthusiasm. Nabi and Keya exged a gheir expressions uneasy. Dipa, sitting cross-legged at the edge of the group, fidgeted with her fingers, shifting awkwardly uhe weight of the unspoken expectation to join in.

  “I’m… on a diet,” Dipa murmured, looking down at her p as if hoping her words might pass unnoticed. “Eating too muight mess things up.”

  James rolled his eyes dramatically and gave her a light h his elbow. “e on, one meal won’t ruin anything. You gotta live a little!” His grin was iious, but Dipa still hesitated, her fiwisting the hem of her training jersey.

  “I know, but—” Dipa began, only to be interrupted by Nabi, who gave her an encing smile. “Holy, Dipa, you’ve been doing great. One meal won’t throw everything off. You’ve ear.”

  Ryan leaned closer, resting his on his hand with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Look, if it makes you feel better, think of it as ‘strategiergy-loading.’ We’re basically athletes—grilled chi is practically required.”

  “Yeah,” Sourov added, g his hands together like a kid who’d just rize. “And it’s chi! High in protein. Perfect for recovery.”