Smash to the Heart

Margo's POV

The gym was stuffy, the kind of heat that clung to your skin and made your clothes stick to your body. 

I could feel the sweat dripping down my neck as I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. Another hour of intense training, and my legs were starting to feel like lead.

“Isa pa, Margo,” Leo called from the sidelines, his voice steady and unwavering as always.

I took a deep breath, trying not to let the exhaustion get to me. “Yes, Coach,” I muttered, gripping my racket tighter as I got ready for another shot. 

My arms felt like they were made of rubber, but I had no choice. The division was coming up, and I needed to be ready.

Leo didn’t seem to care how tired I was. “Focus on your footwork, ha? Stay light on your feet. If you don’t move well, you’ll have a hard time in the match.”

I nodded, trying to focus on the next few shots. My feet were dragging, but I forced myself to move, to keep up with the speed of the game. 

It wasn’t easy, but that was the point of training. No one cared about how tired you were once the match started.

“Bilog pa lang ‘yan, Margo!” Leo called again, and I could hear the challenge in his voice. “Don’t let the exhaustion get to you. You still have a lot of work to do.”

Another serve came flying toward me, and I returned it with all the strength I had left. 

It was enough to get the shuttlecock across the net, but Leo’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the way my form was starting to slip.

“Di pa ‘yan, Margo,” he said. “The form’s off. Fix your grip, relax your shoulders. You’re too tense.”

I rolled my shoulders, shaking out the stiffness. The last thing I needed was to get too tense and mess up everything. Focus, focus, focus.

I swung again, this time with a bit more ease, and the shuttle flew over the net, landing just inside the corner. I finally felt something click.

“That’s better,” Leo said, nodding. “Now, let’s get you ready for the practice match. It’s time.”

I straightened up. “Practice match? With who?”

—

I adjusted my grip on the racket, the wood smooth beneath my fingers. 

I was used to it by now, the weight of the racket, the movements, the rhythm. 

But this practice match? This was different.

My opponent today was Liza—she wasn’t a stranger to me. 

In fact, she had been the one I faced in the final round of our school’s tournament for the division. 

She was the reigning champion of North Hills Academy, and facing her again felt like an inevitable step. 

I had to get used to her style, to how she read the game.

But today, in this quiet gym with no audience, it was just the two of us, testing each other out.

“Ready?” Liza asked, her voice calm but sharp.

“Let’s do this,” I replied, the tension between us palpable even without the crowd. We had a history—one where we had both pushed each other to the limit.

I served first, sending the ball across the court with a force that made it buzz through the air. 

Liza met it with her usual skill, returning it with precision.
The rally began, and my heart rate picked up.

We moved fluidly, dancing around each other on the court, each shot a challenge, each return a test. 

Liza’s form was flawless, but today, I could feel the difference. My serves were sharper, my footwork quicker.

I had been training nonstop, pushing myself harder than before, and it was showing.

Liza was good, but I was better.

“Not bad,” she said after I won the first point, a slight smirk on her face.

“Thanks,” I said, barely containing the smile that threatened to break through. “I’ve been working on it.”

The match continued with me staying a step ahead, my confidence growing with every point I won. 

The tension between us grew as the match went on, both of us pushing ourselves further. 

Liza was fast, her reflexes sharp, but I was more precise, reading her movements and anticipating her shots.

Finally, after a long rally, I saw the opening I’d been waiting for. 

I swung the racket, sending the ball skimming low across the net. Liza dove for it, but she missed.

“Game, set, match,” I said, breathing heavily, though I felt a rush of accomplishment.

Liza stood up, brushing off the dust from her shorts. “Nice one,” she said, her tone genuine despite the loss. “You’ve definitely improved.”

“Thanks,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “I’ve been pushing myself for the division. I can’t afford to let up.”

We both walked to the side of the court, grabbing our water bottles and wiping our faces. I was exhausted, my body screaming for a break, but I couldn’t stop now. The division tournament was just around the corner, and I had to be ready.

Coach Leo walked over, giving me a quick nod of approval. “Good match, Margo. You’ve come a long way since the last time you faced Liza. Keep that focus for the real thing.”

I nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. 

Winning this practice match against Liza felt like a small victory, but it was enough to tell me I was on the right track.

Next week, we would get the final announcement about the division tournament’s venue. 

I knew I still had a lot of work to do, but today felt like a step closer to what I had been training for.

As I packed up my things, I glanced over at Liza, who was already chatting with some of the other players. She was tough, and I respected her, but I couldn’t let her—or anyone—stand in my way.

The division tournament was coming, and I wasn’t going to let anything hold me back.

___________________________________________________________

Caia’s Match (Swimming)

I watched Caia from the sidelines, my heart thudding with excitement. 

Her lane in the pool was positioned right in front of us, the clear water reflecting the bright gym lights above. 

I had no doubt she would crush this.

She stood on the edge, her body poised like a coiled spring, her gaze locked on the blue tiles beneath her. 

She took a deep breath, a quiet confidence radiating from her as the starting horn blew.

In a blur of arms and legs, she dived into the water, her form slicing through the surface with ease. 

Her strokes were powerful, graceful, and precise. I leaned forward, watching every twist and turn, every second of her technique, knowing how much effort she had put into perfecting it.

“Go, Caia!” Miv shouted beside me, her voice full of energy, while Syra bounced up and down in excitement.

Caia was pulling ahead now, her strokes effortlessly gliding past the other competitors. 

I could feel the heat rise in my chest—this was Caia’s moment, and she was making it look easy. 

She reached the end of the pool with a swift kick, and the crowd roared.

"1st place!” I cheered loudly, even though I knew she’d won the second her body had surged into the water.

Caia climbed out of the pool, smiling wide as she wiped the water from her face. She high-fived Miv and Syra as they rushed over to congratulate her.

“Whew! That was a good one!” she said, still catching her breath. “Pero patay na ata braso ko.”

“Great job, Caia!” I added, giving her a thumbs up. “I knew you had it in you!”

She laughed, wiping her wet hair away from her face. “Thanks. Now, need ko na magpahinga.”

Miv’s Match (Running)

Miv was pacing along the starting line, her legs bouncing in anticipation. She was in her element now, stretching out her limbs, her face set in a serious expression.

"Ready?" I asked her, giving her a supportive nod.

"Always,” she said with a grin, her eyes filled with determination.

The horn sounded, and with a powerful burst of speed, Miv shot off like a bullet. 

I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she ran, her legs moving so fast it was almost as if she wasn’t touching the ground. 

Her focus was unwavering, and she was leading the pack right from the start.

“You got this, Miv!” Syra shouted, practically jumping up and down in excitement.

Miv’s breath came in controlled bursts, each one perfectly timed as she kept her lead. 

I felt a rush of pride watching her race; she had been working so hard for this moment.

With only a few meters left, Miv pushed herself even harder, her speed increasing until she crossed the finish line with a satisfying thud of her feet against the track. 

She was breathless but smiling, her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

“First place,” she said between heavy breaths, glancing up at us.

"You're so galing!" I exclaimed, giving her a big hug. “I knew you were gonna win!”

She laughed, wiping the sweat off her forehead. "It wasn't easy, but worth it. I swear, my legs are gonna feel this tomorrow."

Syra’s Match (Badminton)

Syra had been quietly stretching, preparing herself for the next round. Her eyes were locked on her opponent, a girl from another school who had proven to be a strong contender earlier in the tournament.

“Kaya ko 'to,” Syra muttered under her breath, cracking her knuckles.

“You got this,” I said, giving her a thumbs up.

She flashed me a confident grin and stepped onto the court, her stance wide and sure. 

The whistle blew, signaling the start of the match, and Syra immediately lunged, her racket swinging in an impressive arc. 

The shuttlecock flew through the air with incredible speed, and Syra’s reflexes were sharp—every shot was a calculated move.

The match was close, but Syra never lost focus. 

She darted back and forth, her quick footwork making her opponent miss the shuttle over and over again. 

With each rally, Syra only grew stronger, wearing down her opponent’s confidence.

“Come on, Syra!” Miv and Caia shouted in unison, their voices full of encouragement.

The opponent tried to regain some ground, but Syra had already taken control of the game. 

She anticipated every move, her sharp eye never missing a beat. 

With a swift and clean swing, Syra sent the shuttlecock soaring over the net, her opponent’s racket just missing it by an inch.

And just like that, Syra sealed her victory. She punched the air, her victory smile wide and proud.

“Whew! That was one heck of a match,” she said, grabbing her towel from the side of the court. “Matutulog ako after nito.”

"You were amazing!" I told her, hugging her. “That drop shot was unreal.”

Syra laughed, adjusting her ponytail. “I told you, walang makakatalo sa akin.”

—

The cafeteria was buzzing with energy as everyone, still riding the high from their respective matches, sat down to grab a quick bite. 

Laughter echoed around the room while our group — Caia, Miv, Syra, and I — recapped the day’s events. I could see how proud they were of themselves, but I knew that the excitement in the air wasn’t just about food.

It was the division tournament we were all thinking about.

Just as we were finishing up, the loudspeaker crackled to life, cutting through the chatter.

"Attention all athletes of North Hills Academy," a voice boomed. "Please head to the gym immediately for the final announcement about the upcoming division tournament. Again, all athletes, please proceed to the gym. Thank you."

I felt a surge of energy go through me. The division tournament. Everyone was excited to hear about the venue, the opponents, and when it would all happen. Syra, who had been sitting next to me, was the first to stand up.

“Finally! Let’s go na!” she exclaimed, clearly pumped.

“Yeah, ready na ako malaman kung sino ‘yung mga kalaban,” Caia added, grabbing her bag.

“Let’s get this over with,” Miv said with a grin, stretching her legs before standing. “I wanna know the date already.”

We walked out of the cafeteria and into the hallway, joining the crowd of other athletes heading towards the gym. 

The noise was electric — you could hear the buzz of anticipation from everyone. This was it. The moment we’d all been waiting for.

Once we entered the gym, the atmosphere felt different. 

The excitement was almost tangible. Coaches were already gathered at the front, talking among themselves, while the athletes from different sports filled the bleachers. 

I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for North Hills Academy. 

We were all in this together, and we were ready for whatever challenge lay ahead.

The loudspeaker crackled once more, and everyone immediately fell silent.

Coach Reyes stepped up to the mic, his presence commanding the room. "Alright, everyone, settle down,” he began, looking over the athletes with a serious but encouraging gaze. “I know you’ve all been waiting for this, so let’s get right to it."

There was a brief pause, and then he dropped the bombshell.

"First off, congratulations to everyone who made it this far. You’ve all worked hard, and you deserve to be here," he said, his voice steady and strong. 

"Now, the division tournament will be held at Southbridge Academy next month. Mark your calendars. That’s where we’ll face off against seven of the toughest schools around."

The room erupted into murmurs of excitement. 

Southbridge Academy. 

Everyone knew it was one of the most respected schools in the region, and the idea of competing there felt like a dream. 

I could feel my heart racing, but I kept my excitement in check.

Coach Reyes raised his hand to quiet the room. “Now, listen up. We’ll be going up against Westbrook High, Riverdale Academy, Greenfield School, Crestview Prep, Silverdale Institute. These are top-tier schools, so be prepared for some fierce competition. But I know we’re up for it.”

Miv looked over at me, a fire in her eyes. "This is it. We’ll crush them."

I nodded in agreement, but there was still a nagging feeling at the back of my mind. This was no small challenge.

Coach Reyes continued, "The tournament will take place in exactly four weeks. That’s the time you’ve got to fine-tune your skills, sharpen your strategy, and get your head in the game. We don’t have time to waste. But we’ll be ready."

I glanced at my friends. Caia gave me a small smile, while Syra was already nodding, her face full of determination.

"Four weeks," I repeated under my breath.

That was when Coach Reyes gave us the final piece of information that made everything real.

"As for where you’ll be staying," he said, his voice lowering just slightly, "you’ll be in Southbridge Academy’s athlete dorms during the tournament. It’ll be intense, but you’ll have everything you need to focus. Meals, rest, and all the time you need to prepare."

"Wow, athlete dorms," Syra murmured, a bit of excitement in her tone. “Sana may mga free snacks doon.”

“Get ready for the most focused competition of your lives,” Coach Reyes said. “Your respective coaches will provide you with your training schedules. I expect all of you to give your absolute best, no excuses. This is your chance. Make it count.”

The gym filled with cheers, and for a moment, I could barely hear myself think. 

This was it. 

This was the moment we had all worked toward. The countdown had begun.

As the athletes began to chat excitedly, I turned to my friends, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

“Ready na ba kayo?” I asked, feeling the nerves finally settle into excitement.

“Syempre naman!,” Miv said, her voice steady and full of confidence. “We got this.”

“Bring it on,” Syra said, already bouncing on her toes.

Caia gave a soft laugh, looking at us with a determined smile. “Let’s do this.”