The black SUV pulled away from the curb before Isla could fully process that she was finally here.
Ravenhurst University.
She stood at the edge of the crowded campus entrance, two heavy suitcases beside her and a dance bag hanging from her shoulder, the strap digging painfully into her skin.
The late August heat wrapped around her immediately, warmer than London’s cold gray air she had left behind eight hours ago.
Students moved everywhere around her in loud clusters, laughing, dragging luggage, greeting friends they hadn’t seen all summer.
Meanwhile, Isla felt rooted in place.
Her fingers tightened around the handle of her suitcase as nerves churned in her stomach again.
This was it.
Her backup plan.
Her second chance.
The scholarship letter sitting in her suitcase wasn’t just an opportunity.
It was survival.
Years of training, years of sacrificing sleep, comfort—all of it had led here.
She couldn’t afford to mess this up.
Not after everything her mother had done to keep her dancing.
Not after the nights she practiced until her feet bled because quitting had never been an option.
A scream suddenly cut through the noise.
“ISLAAAA!”
Her head snapped up just in time to see a girl barreling toward her at full speed.
Isla barely had time to react before arms wrapped around her neck tightly.
“Oh my God, welcome back to America, girlfriend!”
A laugh escaped Isla before she could stop it.
“Jonna—breathe—”
“No!” Jonna pulled back only enough to grab her shoulders dramatically.
“You abandoned me for years. You don’t get to complain.”
“You act as if I left voluntarily.”
“You still left.”
Despite the teasing accusation, Jonna’s grin was huge and genuine.
Her dark curls bounced wildly around her face as she practically vibrated with excitement.
Seeing her after so many years felt strange in the best way.
Familiar.
Easy.
Like slipping back into an old version of herself she hadn’t realized she missed.
“You look the same,” Isla said.
Jonna gasped.
“Rude. I had a glow-up.” She did a 360.
Isla laughed again, the tightness in her chest easing slightly for the first time since the plane landed.
“You definitely got louder.”
“And you definitely still look emotionally constipated.”
“Nice to see you too.”
Jonna hooked her arm through Isla’s instantly before grabbing one of her suitcases.
“Come on. The dorm is this way.”
The campus stretched endlessly ahead of them as they walked through the massive stone archway.
Ravenhurst University looked exactly like the kind of elite university people obsessed over online—old brick buildings covered in ivy, massive fountains, students dressed as if they’d stepped out of a magazine campaign.
But there was one thing Isla noticed almost immediately.
Football.
Football was everywhere.
Huge banners hung from lamp posts with the RavenHurst Wolves logo printed across them.
Students wore jerseys despite the heat.
The campus store had an entire front display dedicated solely to football merchandise.
And then there were the posters.
One giant billboard near the student center showed a dark-haired guy holding an energy drink bottle with a cocky smirk that looked almost professionally perfected.
Another poster had the same guy advertising sneakers.
A third one had him standing in a black RavenHurst jersey, helmet tucked under his arm, while the words “THE KING OF RAVENHURST” stretched across the bottom.
Isla frowned slightly.
“Is he the president or something?”
Jonna burst out laughing.
“Oh, you are so not prepared for this school.”
Isla glanced back at the massive poster.
“Who is he?”
Jonna looked genuinely offended.
“You don’t know who Liam Douglas is?”
Isla raised her brows.
“Should I?”
“That,” Jonna said dramatically, “is Ravenhurst Football Royalty.”
“The quarterback?”
“The quarterback,” Jonna repeated, as if that explained everything.
“He is the Campus golden boy—future NFL draft pick. Every girl wants him. Every guy wants to be him. Professors practically excuse his existence.”
“That sounds unhealthy.”
“It is unhealthy,” Jonna admitted cheerfully.
“But you’ll get used to it. Football basically runs this campus.”
As they continued walking, Isla started noticing it even more.
Students crowded around tables selling merchandise and tickets.
A group of girls was literally taking selfies beside another poster of Liam Douglas.
It was absurd.
Back home, university culture had never revolved around one person this intensely.
“People actually worship him,” Isla muttered.
Jonna snorted.
“You haven’t even seen game day yet.”
“I’m already scared.”
“You should be.”
By the time they finally reached the dorm building, exhaustion had settled deep into Isla’s bones.
Her entire body ached from traveling.
The eight-hour flight already felt like it had happened days ago.
The moment they stepped into the room, Isla dropped her dance bag near the desk and collapsed face-first onto the nearest bed.
“I think I’m dying,” she mumbled into the mattress.
Jonna rolled her eyes while dragging one of the suitcases toward the closet.
“You’re dramatic.”
“I’m jet-lagged. That’s medically different.”
“You slept half the flight.”
“I slept sitting up like a folded pretzel.”
Jonna laughed softly while beginning to unpack some of Isla’s things and arrange them in the closet.
The room itself wasn’t very wide, but it was decent.
Two beds.
Two desks.
A large closet.
A large window overlooking part of the campus.
College.
For a brief moment, the reality of it hit Isla again.
She was really here.
It wasn’t a dream or a wish.
She was actually here.
Isla turned her head slightly to watch Jonna unpack.
“So, tell me everything I need to know,” Jonna said casually, folding a hoodie.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Liar. It’s been years.”
Isla sighed before sitting up slowly.
“Okay. Fine. Dance consumed my life. London weather still sucks. I survived off coffee and anxiety.”
“Sounds healthy.”
“It built character.”
Jonna tossed a pillow at her.
Isla caught it lazily, smiling despite herself.
The conversation flowed easily after that.
They talked about old classmates, embarrassing high school memories, and teachers they hated.
Jonna filled the silence effortlessly while Isla listened, occasionally laughing harder than she expected to.
It felt nice.
Comforting.
And for the first time in years, Isla didn’t feel completely alone.
“You should join cheerleading,” Jonna said casually.
Isla blinked.
“What?”
“The football cheer squad. Tryouts are today.”
A laugh escaped Isla’s throat immediately.
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Because I haven’t done cheer in years,” Isla answered.
“But you were amazing.”
“That was high school.”
“You were literally captain.”
“Again,” Isla said firmly, “high school.”
Jonna leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing her arms.
“You say that like it was irrelevant. You were one of the best girls on the team.”
“That was before dance got serious.”
“And you still loved it.”
Isla looked away slightly.
That part was true.
Before ballet became intense, demanding, and painfully competitive, cheerleading had been fun.
Loud and chaotic and carefree in a way dance never allowed itself to be.
But that version of her felt far away now.
“I’m not really here to socialize. I need to focus,” she admitted quietly.
Jonna’s expression softened slightly.
“I know.”
The words settled heavily between them.
Because Jonna understood better than most people what this scholarship meant.
Failure wasn’t an option for Isla.
“Still,” Jonna continued more gently, “you can’t spend every second stressing yourself to death. Cheerleading could be good for you.”
Isla shook her head in disagreement.
“I seriously doubt that.”
“It’ll help you meet people.”
“I don’t need people.”
“That’s exactly what someone who desperately needs people says.”
Isla groaned, dropping backward onto the bed again.
“You’re annoying.”
“And you love me.”
“Unfortunately true.”
Jonna lay beside her now, nudging her side lightly.
“Come on. We used to do this together all the time, remember?”
Isla stared at the ceiling quietly.
Of course, she remembered.
Friday night games.
Glitter hairspray in locker rooms.
Laughing until they cried while practicing routines after school.
Sneaking milkshakes after competitions because their coaches would’ve killed them for eating junk food.
Things had felt simpler back then, before life became about survival.
“It could be fun again, like old times,” Jonna said softly.
Something inside Isla twisted unexpectedly at that.
Old times.
She missed the old times more than she liked to admit.
“Besides,” Jonna added, clearly sensing weakness now, “you’re already a dancer. The tryout will be easy.”
“You’re oversimplifying this,” Isla said.
“I’m motivating you.”
“You’re bullying me.”
“Same thing.”
Isla laughed as she dramatically covered her face with both hands.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” Jonna laughed.
A long silence passed before Isla finally sighed.
“Fine.”
Jonna sat up quickly.
“Fine?”
“I said fine.”
Jonna shrieked so loudly that Isla physically flinched.
“Oh my God, yes!”
“Stop screaming.”
“Nope. I’m excited.”
“You’re terrifying.”
Jonna immediately jumped off the bed and clapped her hands together.
“Perfect. Then get dressed.”
Isla frowned.
“Why?”
“Because tryouts are in an hour.”
Her eyes widened.
“What? Oh no…”
Jonna nodded unapologetically.
“You said yes. No take-backs.”
“I just got off an international flight!”
“And now you’re about to slay a cheer tryout.”
“Jonna.” Isla groaned.
“You’ll survive.” She blinked repeatedly.
Isla turned and dropped her face back into the pillow with a groan full of suffering.
This was a mistake.
A massive mistake.
But somewhere beneath the exhaustion and panic, something else was building.
Something unfamiliar to her new self.
Excitement.
Dearest Gentle Reader, Are you a lover of Rom-Coms?
Then, this book is for you.
This is my first Sport Romance Book.
So I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing.