"As long as Christian stayed on my side, that ticket was mine. Locked in." Elena's voice shook with anger. "And then that thief switched teams at the last second. Millie fluttered her eyelashes at him and—poof—he ditched us like we were nothing."
It took Maeve a moment to untangle the story.
"So: there's only one ticket. You and Millie both want it. To be ‘fair,' you agreed to settle it in a best-of-three match."
"Christian was originally your teammate—he's good—but he flipped to Millie's side because she batted her eyes, and now your team is down a player for the match this afternoon?"
Elena nodded hard. "Exactly."
"Millie's got Christian plus three top-tier players. My remaining teammates are… average. We were counting on Christian to carry."
Then Elena looked at Maeve like she'd just spotted a miracle. "Do you play League?"
Maeve said, "I tried it back when it was getting popular. A few matches. Haven't touched it in almost two years."
Disappointment flickered across Elena's face—then she straightened up like she'd decided something.
"Doesn't matter. Even if I don't get Connor's ticket, I'm not letting Millie look down on me."
She hooked her arm through Maeve's. "Twenty minutes until the match. I was ready to quit, but seeing you—now I'm fired up again. Come on. Let's go wreck them."
Elena dragged Maeve to the student council office, where Millie—dressed like she was headed to a party—was laughing with a guy.
Christian.
Millie's eyes flashed with irritation when she saw Maeve.
"Elena," she purred, "I thought you were going to forfeit."
She waved her phone. "My teammates are all top-tier. You don't have a prayer."
Christian nodded beside her. "Elena, just forfeit. You're only wasting everyone's time."

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