[GL] Someone Once Told Me the Grass is Much er on the Other Side-Chapter 139: Sophomore Year Arc: Four

The roar of the crowd crashed through the packed arena like a tidal wave, shaking the metal bleachers beneath Aurora’s sneakers. She gripped the edge of her seat, eyes locked on the court below. This was it, the MCAA Division I Alpha’s basketball national championship. And there, in the heart of the storm, was Jasona; the Alpha tying her high-tops with the same laser-focused calm Aurora had fallen for earlier that year.

Aurora still remembered the first time she’d seen Jasona play. It was a late-night open run at the campus rec center during the start of the year after they had met a few weeks prior. Aurora had been just in awe with how good the Alpha looked that day. She made the right decision continuing on with her. Now here she was, a whole year later and Jasona was fighting for a national title. Aurora had been courtside for every grueling practice, every film session, every ice bath and late-night text that read, "Love you, glad you enjoyed the game."

The referees signaled for the jump ball. Jasona took her spot at center court, jersey number 7 bright beneath the arena lights. The Easton University Eagles, their bitter rivals who had ended Hinami’s season the year before, loomed across the paint. Jasona had spent the entire off-season watching film of that loss on repeat, muttering strategy until Aurora finally stole her laptop and replaced it with takeout and a movie, or even sex. Tonight was redemption.

Tip-off. Jasona tipped the ball cleanly to her teammate, and the game exploded into motion. She flew down the court, a blur of braids (Aurora had did her hair into two strain twist that made the Alpha just so sexy) and determination, faking left, crossing right, threading a bounce pass through two defenders for an easy layup. Aurora leapt to her feet, screaming into the chaos, "Let’s go, Jasona!"

From the opening minutes, Jasona commanded the floor. She drained a pull-up jumper, stripped the ball from Easton’s All-American guard, and directed traffic with sharp hand signals that her teammates read like second nature. The Eagles answered back hard, their center rejected Jasona’s first drive with a monster block that sent the ball rocketing into the first row. Jasona just clapped once, reset, and flashed that quick half-smile up to section 112 where Aurora sat. Their silent language: I’m good, babe, we fucking tonight.

Halftime arrived with the score knotted at 44–44. During the break, Aurora wove through the concourse crush to the tunnel entrance. Jasona spotted her instantly, slipping away from the huddle for twenty stolen seconds.

"You’re unreal out there," the coach said, pressing a cold Fatorade into Jasona’s hands.

Jasona gulped it down, eyes never leaving Aurora’s in the bleacers. "Only because I can feel my babe in the stands. Gives me an extra gear."

The horn sounded. They bumped fists, public affection still felt risky in front of cameras, and Jasona jogged back out. Aurora returned to her seat, pulse hammering.

The second half was war. Easton surged to a nine-point lead early in the third, their guards raining threes while the Raptors bricked open looks. Aurora’s stomach twisted as the deficit grew. Jasona called timeout, slamming the ball once on the floor before gathering her team. Even from the nosebleeds, Aurora could read her lips: "We are not losing this game twice."

The comeback started small. A steal by Jasona. A coast-to-coast finish through contact, and one. Then another steal, a kick out to the corner, splash. The arena volume climbed with every bucket. A teammate who’d been ice-cold all night finally caught fire off Jasona’s screens, drilling back-to-back jumpers that cut the lead to two.

Fourth quarter. Five minutes left. Tied at 78.

The building shook with every possession. Easton’s star forward bullied her way to the rim, but Jasona took the charge, absorbing the hit and drawing the whistle. She sank both free throws. Riverside up two. Easton answered with a corner three.

Aurora stood the entire final stretch, hands clasped so tight her fingers went numb.

Two minutes remaining. Jasona brought the ball up, the shot clock ticking under ten. Double-team. She split it with a vicious hesitation, rose from just inside the arc, and buried a dagger three that sent the Riverside bench into hysterics. 83–80.

The Eagles scrambled, another timeout. When play resumed, Easton’s point guard launched a contested floater.

Clank.

Jasona soared for the rebound, cradling it like the championship itself.

Thirty seconds. Riverside up three. Easton fouled immediately, sending Jasona to the line for a one-and-one. The arena fell into a tense hush. Aurora held her breath; it was a front rim, rattle, in. 85–80.

Easton raced downcourt, hoisted a desperate three at the buzzer. Brick. Rebound Jasona. Ballgame.

The final horn unleashed pandemonium. Teammates swarmed Jasona, lifting her into the air as confetti cannons exploded. Aurora vaulted rows of seats, pushing through the madness until she reached the floor. Jasona saw her coming, broke free, and sprinted straight into Aurora’s arms. They collided hard, Jasona’s sweat-soaked jersey soaking Aurora’s hoodie, both of them laughing and crying at once.

"We did it," Jasona whispered into Aurora’s neck.

"You did it," Aurora corrected, pulling back just enough to see Jasona’s face streaked with tears and joy.

The trophy ceremony blurred past, handshakes, nets cut down, MVP chants for Jasona echoing off the rafters. She accepted the championship trophy with both hands, raising it high while cameras flashed like lightning. Later, when the microphones finally left them alone, Jasona found Aurora again near the tunnel.

"Scouts from three ANBA teams want meetings tomorrow," she said, voice hoarse but electric.

Aurora grinned. "Told you the world wasn’t ready."

Jasona laughed, the sound raw and perfect. "Come with me to all of them? I want you there before I head out to Fermany"

"Try and stop me."

That night, after the locker-room champagne showers and the bus ride back to campus, they slipped away to their spot: the empty practice gym, lights dimmed to half-court. Jasona spun a basketball on her finger, the championship net still draped around her neck like a scarf.

Aurora knew one thing for certain: Jasona was her forever, and forever started right now.

They walked across the quiet campus at dawn, shoes crunching on stray confetti that had blown all the way from the arena. Jasona kept stopping every few steps to kiss Aurora like she still couldn’t believe they’d actually won, like she needed to taste the victory on Aurora’s lips to make it real. By the time they reached their on-campus apartment, the sky was turning pink and gold, and both of them were running on pure adrenaline and love.

Inside, the place looked like a championship had exploded: boxes half-packed for Fermany, championship gear strewn everywhere, the giant trophy now sitting proudly on the kitchen counter next to a box of cereal. Jasona kicked the door shut and immediately pinned Aurora against it, hands sliding under Aurora’s hoodie, mouth hot and desperate.

"Been waiting all night to get you alone," Jasona murmured against her neck, voice low and rough from screaming in the game and screaming Aurora’s name in celebration. Aurora laughed breathlessly, fingers tangling in those braids she’d done so carefully that morning, now slightly undone, wild, perfect.

"Then stop talking and take me to bed, champion."

Jasona didn’t need to be told twice. She lifted Aurora clean off the floor because of course she could, and carried her down the hallway like Aurora weighed nothing. They didn’t bother with lights. Clothes hit the floor in a trail: hoodie, jersey, sports bra, leggings, everything gone in seconds. The championship net ended up tangled somewhere around their ankles, then tossed aside with a laugh.

Hours later, tangled in sheets and sunlight, Jasona traced lazy patterns on Aurora’s bare back. "I’m gonna miss this bed," she whispered. "Gonna miss you in it every single night I’m gone."

Aurora rolled over, propping her chin on Jasona’s chest. "Then we make every second count until you leave. And when you’re gone, we make the summers we do have even better. You come home to me, I fly to you, we steal weekends wherever your team plays. Distance doesn’t get to win. We do."

Jasona smiled, soft and real, the kind of smile she saved only for Aurora. "You’re my home court, baby. Always."

Aurora kissed her slow and deep, tasting the one and only future and everything they were about to fight for. Outside, the campus woke up to a new day under a championship banner. Inside, two girls who had fallen hard: an Omega and Alpha, and fast a year ago made love like the world wasn’t waiting like time could pause just long enough for them to memorize every inch of each other before the real world tried to pull them apart.

It couldn’t. Not really. Not ever.

Because some victories aren’t decided on a scoreboard.

Some are decided in quiet mornings, in whispered promises, in choosing each other over and over again.

And they had already won.