Chapter 3: The Cousin from Spain Jim didn't sleep well. He kept waking up every hour or so, checking his phone like Valeria was gonna magically text him some explanation. She didn't. By the time his alarm went off at six-thirty, he felt like shit—eyes heavy, head foggy, that annoying tightness in his chest that wouldn't go away. He sat up, rubbing his face. His room was still dark except for the glow of his phone screen. No new messages. "Fuck," he muttered. Downstairs, his mom was already in the kitchen, mixing something in a bowl. She looked up when he walked in, her expression immediately shifting to concern. "You look terrible," Roxanne said. "Thanks, Ma. Love you too." "I'm serious, mijo. You okay?" Jim grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the fridge, twisting the cap off. "I'm fine. Just didn't sleep great." "Why not?" "I don't know. Couldn't turn my brain off." Roxanne studied him for a second, then went back to her mixing. "Is it about basketball?" "Nah. Basketball's good." "Then what?" Jim took a long drink, avoiding her eyes. "Nothing. Just tired." She didn't push, but he could feel her watching him as he left the kitchen. --- School was weird. Jim got there early like he always did on practice days, but instead of heading straight to the gym, he found himself walking past Valeria's locker. She wasn't there yet. He checked his phone again—still nothing from her. He texted her. **Jim:** you good? Three dots appeared almost immediately, then disappeared. Then reappeared. Then disappeared again. Finally, a response came through. **Valeria:** yeah why **Jim:** just checking **Valeria:** i'm fine baby **Valeria:** see you at lunch? **Jim:** yeah He shoved his phone back in his pocket, feeling that knot in his chest tighten. First period dragged. Jim barely paid attention to whatever his history teacher was saying, just stared at the board without really seeing it. His mind kept replaying last night—the texts, Valeria's face when she saw them, the way she brushed him off. *We need to talk. I'm serious val. Don't ignore me.* Who the fuck was that? Between first and second period, Jim caught sight of Valeria near the stairwell. She was on her phone, talking quietly, her back to him. He slowed down, watching her. She looked tense—shoulders tight, head down, one hand pressed to her ear like she was trying to block out the noise around her. Jim thought about walking over, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the way she kept glancing around like she didn't want to be seen. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn't mentioned anything about a phone call this morning. He kept walking. --- Lunch was in the cafeteria, same as always. Jim sat with Kenny, Zion, Mike, and Eli at their usual table near the windows. The rest of the team trickled in over the next few minutes, and soon the whole group was there, talking loud and eating louder. "Yo, Jim, you see that dunk Bronny posted last night?" Zion asked, scrolling through his phone. "Nah, what'd he do?" "Bro, he caught a lob from like half court and windmilled that shit. It was nasty." Jim pulled out his phone, pulling up Instagram. "Let me see." Zion leaned over, showing him the video. Bronny was mid-air, arm cocked back, the ball slamming through the rim with force. The crowd in the background went insane. "Damn," Jim said. "That's clean." "You gotta hit him back with something," Eli said. "Show him who's really got hops." Jim smirked. "I don't need to prove shit. He already knows." Kenny laughed. "Man, you're so full of yourself." "And?" They kept talking, the conversation bouncing between basketball, girls, and some stupid TikTok trend Mike was trying to explain. Jim was half-listening, half-watching the cafeteria entrance. Valeria walked in a few minutes later, but she wasn't alone. There was a guy with her—someone Jim didn't recognize. Older, maybe early twenties, dressed too nice for a high school cafeteria in dark jeans and a fitted black jacket. He had his hands in his pockets, walking beside Valeria like he belonged there. Jim's jaw tightened. "Who the fuck is that?" he said, more to himself than anyone else. Kenny followed his gaze. "Who?" "That dude with Valeria." Zion looked over. "I don't know. Never seen him before." Jim watched as Valeria stopped by her locker, the guy leaning against the wall next to her. They were talking—Valeria smiling, the guy saying something that made her laugh. "You good, bro?" Mike asked. Jim stood up. "Yeah. I'll be back." He didn't wait for a response. He crossed the cafeteria, weaving through tables, eyes locked on Valeria and the mystery guy. By the time he got there, Valeria had already noticed him. "Hey, baby," she said, her smile brightening. "I was just about to text you." "Yeah?" Jim's eyes flicked to the guy, then back to her. "Who's this?" The guy straightened up, extending a hand. "Miguel. Nice to meet you, man." Jim looked at the hand, then took it, shaking once. Miguel's grip was firm, confident. Jim hated it. "Miguel's my cousin," Valeria said quickly. "From Spain. He's visiting for the week." "Cousin," Jim repeated. "Yeah." Valeria's smile didn't falter, but her eyes were watching him carefully. "I told you my family was coming to visit, remember?" Jim didn't remember that at all. "Right." Miguel grinned. "Valeria's told me a lot about you. The basketball star, yeah?" "Something like that." "She showed me some of your highlights. You're really good, man. Like, professional level." "Thanks." Valeria touched Jim's arm, her fingers light against his sleeve. "Miguel's staying at my place for the week. My parents wanted him to see the city." "At your place," Jim said. "Yeah. Is that a problem?" Jim kept his expression neutral, even though every instinct in his body was screaming. "Nah. Why would it be?" "I don't know. You're acting weird." "I'm not acting weird." Miguel glanced between them, clearly sensing the tension. "I should probably go. Let you two talk." "You don't have to—" Valeria started, but Miguel was already walking away, throwing a casual wave over his shoulder. Once he was gone, Valeria turned to Jim, her arms crossed. "What the hell was that?" "What was what?" "You were being rude." "I wasn't being rude. I was being normal." "You literally didn't say more than two words to him." Jim leaned against the locker, crossing his arms. "You didn't tell me your cousin was coming." "I did." "When?" "Last week. I mentioned it." "No, you didn't." Valeria sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Okay, well, maybe I forgot to mention it. But it's not a big deal, Jim. He's family." "Right." "Why are you acting like this?" "Like what?" "Like you don't trust me." Jim didn't answer right away. He wanted to say it—wanted to ask her about the texts, about the way she'd acted last night, about why some random dude was blowing up her phone at eleven PM. But he didn't. Because what if he was wrong? What if he was just being paranoid and jealous over nothing? "I'm not," he said finally. "I just wish you'd told me, that's all." Valeria's expression softened. She stepped closer, her hand finding his. "I'm sorry. I should've mentioned it earlier. But I promise, it's nothing to worry about. He's just here for the week, and then he's gone." Jim looked down at her, searching her face for any sign that she was lying. He didn't find one. "Alright," he said. She smiled, standing on her toes to kiss him. "I'll see you after school?" "Yeah. I got practice." "Text me when you're done." "I will." She kissed him again, then walked away, disappearing into the crowd of students near the cafeteria entrance. Jim stood there for a second, staring after her. Then he turned and headed back to his table. --- "So?" Kenny asked as soon as Jim sat down. "What's the deal?" "Her cousin," Jim said, picking up his sandwich. "Cousin?" Zion raised an eyebrow. "That dude looked too old to be in high school." "He's visiting from Spain." "Spain," Mike repeated. "That's random." Jim shrugged, taking a bite. He didn't want to talk about it. But Eli wasn't letting it go. "You believe her?" "Why wouldn't I?" "I don't know, man. You looked pissed when you walked over there." "I wasn't pissed." "You were definitely pissed," Kenny said. Jim set his sandwich down, leaning back in his chair. "Look, it's fine. He's her cousin. End of story." Zion exchanged a glance with Kenny. "If you say so." Jim didn't say anything else. He finished his lunch in silence, half-listening to his teammates talk around him. But his mind was somewhere else—back on those texts, back on the way Valeria had looked at her phone, back on the way Miguel had smiled at him like he knew something Jim didn't. --- Practice that afternoon was brutal. Jim went hard from the jump—pushing himself, pushing his teammates, barking orders like they were in the playoffs instead of a regular practice. He was everywhere at once, demanding switches on defense, calling out missed rotations, criticizing lazy cuts. "Kenny, what the fuck are you doing?" Jim shouted after Kenny missed a box-out. "You gotta crash the boards, man!" "I got it, I got it," Kenny said, hands up. "No, you don't got it. You're standing there like a fucking statue." During a scrimmage, Jim drove hard to the basket, throwing an elbow into Manny's chest that sent him stumbling back. The whistle blew. "Foul!" Assistant Coach Smith called. "That's a clean drive," Jim shot back. "It's a foul, Jim. Relax." Jim didn't relax. He kept playing physical, kept talking trash, kept pushing until Coach Harper finally blew his whistle and called everyone in. "Alright, that's enough," Harper said, looking directly at Jim. "Take five. All of you." The team dispersed, grabbing water bottles and towels. Jim stayed where he was, hands on his hips, breathing hard. Harper walked over. "What's going on with you?" "Nothing." "Don't give me that. You're playing like you're trying to fight someone." Jim wiped sweat off his face with his shirt. "I'm just trying to get better." "You're trying to take someone's head off. There's a difference." Harper crossed his arms. "You got something on your mind, you need to deal with it off the court. Don't bring it here." Jim nodded. "Yeah. Alright." Harper studied him for a second, then clapped him on the shoulder. "Go cool off." Jim walked to the bench, grabbing his water bottle. Kenny and Zion were already there, watching him. "You good?" Kenny asked. "I'm fine." "You don't look fine," Zion said. Jim took a long drink, then sat down on the bench. "I'm good. Just got a lot on my mind." "Like what?" Jim hesitated. He didn't want to get into it, but at the same time, he knew they weren't gonna let it go. Kenny and Zion were like that—persistent as hell when they thought something was wrong. "It's Valeria," he said finally. "What about her?" Kenny asked. "I don't know. She's been acting weird." "Weird how?" Jim told them—about the texts last night, about the way she'd brushed him off, about Miguel showing up today. When he finished, Zion let out a low whistle. "Damn." "You think she's cheating?" Kenny asked bluntly. "I don't know," Jim said. "Maybe. I don't want to think that, but..." "But it's suspicious as hell," Zion finished. Jim nodded. Kenny leaned back against the wall. "You need to just ask her, bro. Straight up. No bullshit." "And if she lies?" "Then you check her phone." Jim looked at him. "I'm not checking her phone." "Why not? If she's got nothing to hide, it shouldn't be a problem." "Because that's psycho behavior." Zion shrugged. "Maybe. But so is texting some random dude at eleven at night and then lying about it." Jim ran a hand over his face. He hated this. Hated feeling like he couldn't trust her. Hated the doubt sitting heavy in his chest. "What if I'm wrong?" he said quietly. "What if I accuse her of something and it turns out I'm just being paranoid?" "Then you apologize," Kenny said. "But at least you'll know." Jim sat there for a minute, thinking. Then he stood up, grabbing his bag. "Where you going?" Zion asked. "Her place," Jim said. "I'm gonna meet this Miguel dude properly. Figure out what the hell is actually going on." Kenny grinned. "That's what I'm talking about." Zion stood up too. "You want us to come with?" "Nah. I got it." "You sure?" "Yeah." Jim slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the door. He didn't know what he was gonna find when he got to Valeria's apartment. Didn't know if Miguel really was just her cousin or if something else was going on. But he was damn sure gonna find out.