THE BOY I WAS SUPPOSED TO HATE

Chapter 1

The Man I Hate Most

There were exactly three things Adrian Villareal hated about Lucas Navarro.

His smile.

His arrogance.

And the irritating fact that he was unbelievably good at basketball.

Adrian could forgive the first two.

The third was personal.

“Thirty seconds!”

Coach Ramirez’s voice barely survived the roar inside the packed university arena.

Adrian wiped the sweat from his chin with the collar of his black San Gabriel jersey and stared at the scoreboard.

SAN GABRIEL — 78MONTEVERDE — 79

Twenty-eight seconds remained.

One point.

That was all that separated them from victory.

And standing between Adrian and the basket was the person he wanted least to see.

Lucas Navarro.

White Monteverde jersey.

Number one.

Six-foot-four.

Dark hair soaked with sweat.

And that damned smile.

Lucas lowered himself into a defensive stance.

“Come on, Villareal.”

Adrian bounced the ball slowly.

“You talk too much.”

“Only when you’re listening.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You answered.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened.

Lucas grinned.

That was the problem with him.

Lucas didn’t just play basketball.

He played people.

He knew exactly when to smile, exactly what to say, exactly how close to stand before someone lost concentration.

Adrian had spent three years learning not to fall for it.

Mostly.

The crowd began counting down.

“Ten!”

Adrian moved.

Lucas followed.

“Eight!”

Adrian crossed left.

Lucas anticipated it.

Adrian immediately switched direction.

For half a second, Lucas’s weight shifted.

That was enough.

Adrian exploded toward the basket.

“Five!”

He slipped past Lucas.

The lane opened.

Adrian jumped.

The arena seemed to freeze.

He released the ball.

Then—

A hand appeared.

Lucas.

Smack.

The ball changed direction.

The buzzer screamed.

For one impossible second, nobody moved.

Then the arena erupted.

Monteverde’s bench emptied onto the court.

FINAL: 79–78.

Adrian landed and stared at the ball rolling uselessly toward the sideline.

One point.

Again.

“Hell of a game.”

He heard the voice behind him.

Adrian closed his eyes.

Of course.

He turned.

Lucas stood there, breathing hard, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Don’t.”

Lucas raised both hands.

“I was going to compliment you.”

“Save it.”

“I didn’t know losing made you this sensitive.”

Adrian stepped closer.

“I said save it.”

The celebration around them continued, but something shifted between the two men.

Lucas’s smile faded slightly.

“You’re taking this personally.”

“I take basketball personally.”

“That’s your problem.”

Adrian laughed once.

“My problem?”

“Yeah.”

Lucas stepped closer.

“You play like every possession is revenge.”

“And you play like everyone came here to watch you.”

“Maybe they did.”

There it was.

That arrogance.

Adrian moved before he could reconsider.

His shoulder struck Lucas’s.

Lucas immediately shoved him back.

Players nearby stopped celebrating.

“Hey!”

Miggy Santos rushed between them.

“Not here.”

Adrian tried moving around him.

“Get out of the way, Miggy.”

“Absolutely not.”

Lucas’s teammates were already approaching.

Lucas didn’t move.

He simply stared at Adrian.

That somehow made Adrian angrier.

“You think you’re better than everyone,” Adrian said.

Lucas tilted his head.

“No.”

A pause.

“Just you.”

Adrian lunged.

“Adrian!”

Three teammates grabbed him.

The crowd reacted immediately.

Phones rose everywhere.

Of course they did.

Thousands of people had just watched San Gabriel lose by one point, and apparently that wasn’t entertaining enough.

Now they wanted a fight.

“Let me go!”

“You’re going to get suspended!” Miggy shouted.

“Worth it.”

“No, it’s not!”

Across the growing crowd, Lucas was being pulled backward by two Monteverde players.

But he was smiling again.

Adrian pointed at him.

“This isn’t over, Navarro!”

Lucas spread his arms.

“Scoreboard, Villareal!”

The Monteverde crowd exploded.

Adrian genuinely considered committing murder.

Twenty minutes later, Adrian sat inside the San Gabriel locker room with a towel over his head.

Nobody spoke to him.

Smart men.

His phone had been vibrating continuously inside his locker.

He ignored it.

Probably social media.

Probably videos of the confrontation.

Probably thousands of strangers debating whether Adrian Villareal and Lucas Navarro actually hated each other or whether their rivalry was manufactured for attention.

It wasn’t.

Adrian hated him.

Completely.

Absolutely.

Without complication.

“You finished planning Navarro’s funeral?”

Miggy sat beside him.

Adrian didn’t remove the towel.

“Depends. Do you know anyone with a shovel?”

“See, jokes like that are exactly why I’m concerned.”

“I’m serious.”

“That makes it worse.”

Adrian finally pulled the towel away.

Miggy was smiling.

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Immensely.”

“We lost.”

“By one point.”

“That’s still losing.”

Miggy shrugged. “We’re going to the semifinals anyway.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“It literally is.”

Adrian glared at him.

Miggy laughed.

“You know what your problem is?”

“If you say Lucas Navarro—”

“Lucas Navarro.”

Adrian threw the towel at him.

Miggy caught it.

“You’re obsessed with him.”

“I hate him.”

“Same amount of energy.”

“Not remotely the same thing.”

“You know his scoring average.”

“Everyone knows his scoring average.”

“You know his free-throw percentage.”

“Because I study opponents.”

“You knew he changed his shoes last season.”

Adrian stopped.

Miggy’s eyebrows rose.

“That one was weird.”

“They were bright orange!”

“Sure.”

“Everyone noticed!”

“I didn’t.”

“You’re blind.”

Miggy leaned back against the locker.

“All I’m saying is, for someone you supposedly can’t stand, you spend an impressive amount of time thinking about Lucas Navarro.”

Adrian stood.

“Conversation over.”

“Oh, definitely. Wouldn’t want you discovering anything about yourself.”

Adrian slowly turned.

Miggy immediately raised both hands.

“Basketball. I meant basketball.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

Adrian opened his locker.

His phone displayed forty-seven notifications.

He groaned.

One video already had more than eighty thousand views.

VILLAREAL VS. NAVARRO GETS HEATED AGAIN 🔥

Another:

THE BIGGEST RIVALRY IN UNIVERSITY BASKETBALL?

And another:

NAVARRO: “JUST YOU.” 😳

“Fantastic.”

Miggy looked over his shoulder.

“Oh, that’s going viral.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“Comments are hilarious.”

“Don’t read them.”

Miggy immediately read them.

“‘Adrian looked ready to kill him.’ Accurate.”

“Stop.”

“‘Navarro definitely enjoys making him angry.’ Also accurate.”

“Miggy.”

“Oh, here’s one—”

Adrian grabbed the phone.

“No.”

Miggy laughed.

The locker-room door opened.

Coach Ramirez entered.

Every conversation stopped.

He wasn’t smiling.

“Villareal.”

Adrian sighed.

“Yes, Coach?”

“My office.”

Miggy whispered, “Funeral postponed.”

Adrian gave him the finger behind his back.

Coach Ramirez didn’t mention the fight immediately.

That worried Adrian more than yelling would have.

The coach sat behind his desk and slid an envelope across it.

Adrian stared.

“What is this?”

“Open it.”

“If it’s my suspension, can you just tell me?”

“You’re not suspended.”

“Really?”

“Although after tonight, I’m reconsidering.”

Adrian wisely kept quiet.

He picked up the envelope.

There was an official seal on the front.

PHILIPPINE NATIONAL UNIVERSITY ALL-STAR DEVELOPMENT PROGRAM

Adrian’s heart stopped.

He looked at his coach.

“No way.”

Coach Ramirez smiled.

“Open it.”

Adrian tore the envelope.

He read the first line.

Then again.

His hands suddenly felt unsteady.

Dear Mr. Adrian Villareal,

We are pleased to formally invite you to participate in this year’s Philippine National University All-Star Training Program...

He stopped reading.

For years, this program had been one of the most important pathways into professional basketball.

National coaches.

Professional scouts.

Elite trainers.

The best university players in the country.

And now—

Adrian was one of them.

“Coach…”

“You earned it.”

Adrian looked down at the letter again.

For a moment, tonight’s loss disappeared.

The crowd disappeared.

Everything disappeared.

He thought about his mother.

Marco.

The years of waking before sunrise to practice.

The worn-out shoes.

The scholarship.

The nights he’d wondered whether basketball could actually take him anywhere.

It was happening.

“This could change everything,” Coach Ramirez said.

Adrian nodded slowly.

“I know.”

“Which is why you need to control that temper.”

Adrian knew exactly where this was going.

“Coach—”

“You think professional scouts want someone throwing punches after every close game?”

“I didn’t throw one.”

“Because three men stopped you.”

Fair.

Coach leaned forward.

“You’re talented, Adrian. Maybe one of the most talented players I’ve coached. But talent doesn’t matter if nobody wants to work with you.”

Adrian looked at the invitation.

“I understand.”

“Good.”

Coach Ramirez handed him another sheet.

“Training begins Monday. That’s the participant roster.”

Adrian unfolded it.

Names.

Universities.

Positions.

He recognized almost everyone.

Some he’d played against.

Some he’d only watched.

Then his eyes reached the fourth name.

He stopped.

No.

Absolutely not.

Adrian looked again.

Maybe he’d misread it.

He hadn’t.

LUCAS NAVARRO — MONTEVERDE UNIVERSITY — POINT GUARD

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Coach Ramirez smiled.

“I was wondering when you’d see that.”

Adrian stared at him.

“He’s going?”

“He’s arguably the best point guard in university basketball. Of course he’s going.”

“I can name five better.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Four.”

“Adrian.”

“Three.”

Coach Ramirez laughed.

“You’ll survive.”

Adrian looked back at the paper.

His excitement had lasted approximately forty-five seconds.

“When does this start?”

“Monday.”

“How long?”

“Six weeks.”

Six.

Weeks.

With Lucas Navarro.

Coach Ramirez apparently saw the horror on his face.

“You’ll be teammates this time.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“It should.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Then consider it character development.”

Adrian folded the paper.

“I have enough character.”

“That is debatable.”

Adrian stood.

His coach stopped him before he reached the door.

“One more thing.”

Adrian turned.

“You’re not representing only San Gabriel there. You’re representing yourself.”

Coach Ramirez’s expression became serious.

“This is an opportunity people would kill for. Don’t waste it because you can’t stand one person.”

Adrian looked down at Lucas’s name.

He knew his coach was right.

Six weeks.

He could handle six weeks.

They’d train.

They’d play basketball.

They’d stay away from each other whenever possible.

Easy.

Adrian folded the roster and slipped it into his pocket.

“I’ll behave.”

Coach Ramirez laughed.

“That sounded incredibly convincing.”

Across Manila, Lucas Navarro sat alone inside the back seat of a black SUV.

The city lights moved across the window.

His phone rested in his hand.

On the screen was the same roster.

He’d received it hours earlier.

He’d already read every name.

But his eyes kept returning to one.

ADRIAN VILLAREAL — SAN GABRIEL UNIVERSITY — SHOOTING GUARD

Lucas stared at it.

Then smiled.

His phone buzzed.

A message from Ethan appeared.

ETHAN: Heard Villareal made the program.

Lucas typed back.

LUCAS: Unfortunately.

Three dots appeared.

ETHAN: You sound devastated.

Lucas frowned.

LUCAS: I hate him.

Ethan replied almost immediately.

ETHAN: Sure you do.

Lucas stared at the message.

His smile disappeared.

Outside the window, Manila blurred past.

He remembered Adrian on the court.

The fury in his eyes.

The sweat running down his face.

The way he’d stepped close enough that Lucas could feel his breath.

Lucas locked his phone.

No.

Absolutely not.

Adrian Villareal was arrogant.

Hot-headed.

Annoying.

Impossible.

And Lucas Navarro couldn’t stand him.

At least—

that was what he had been telling himself for three years.

END OF CHAPTER 1