Sport Tournaments : Part 5

Gizem was sitting at the wooden table of the café on the beach, holding a cup of cold coffee, Yiğit opposite her, his black t-shirt damp with sweat, his hair messy. His hands were clasped on the table, his fingers brushing against each other. The lanterns flickered in the wind, dim light spread across the table, and the sound of the waves blended with their conversation. Yiğit said, "When I saw you in the stands... we crushed the game," his voice warm, his eyes locked on Gizem.

Gizem smiled, "Watching you was amazing," she said softly, her cheeks turning red. "You've been on my mind since yesterday," 

Yiğit added, placing his hand over hers, his fingers trembling.

Gizem’s breath quickened, "Me too," she said, her eyes on Yiğit, just as it was about to deepen when her phone rang—her mother, Nuray, "Gizem, the weather's getting cold, come home," her voice filled with concern.

Gizem frowned, "I have to go," she said, Yiğit looked surprised, "Okay… but this isn’t over," he smiled.

Gizem said, "If you win the semifinals, we'll come here, okay?" her cheeks reddened. Yiğit grinned, "Promise," he said, "See you tomorrow." Gizem replied, "See you," grabbed her bag, glanced at Yiğit, and left the café. Yiğit stayed at the table, his eyes drifting to the door, thinking: Tomorrow...

When Gizem woke up in the morning, the sun was streaming through the window, the festival atmosphere of the town filling her room. She wrote in her journal: Day 27: Yesterday, at the café with Yiğit... Almost... But my mom called. The semifinals are today, if they win, we’ll meet. The writing results will be announced too, I hope something comes out. She wore a gray sweater and jeans, tied her hair up, and rode her bike to school. In the garden, students were waving banners, festival songs were playing, and the smell of coffee wafted from the canteen.

At noon, the amphitheater was full, the results of the writing and painting competition were about to be announced. Gizem sat in the front row with Beyza, her hands firmly on her knees, her heart racing. Students whispered around her, "Who’s going to win?" their voices growing louder.

The principal took the microphone on stage, buttoned his gray jacket, "Hello everyone, we’re announcing the results of the festival competitions," he said, his voice echoing in the amphitheater. He was holding an envelope, adjusting his glasses, "First, the writing category," he said, opening the envelope.

"First place, Ela from 11-A, her work 'The Sea and Loneliness'—a moving story about the silence of the town. Second place, Furkan from 10-B, 'The Traces of the Wind'—a poetic narrative. Third place, Aslı from 12-C, 'The Lost Seagull'—an emotional short story."

Gizem's name wasn't called, her breath caught, her heart squeezed; I corrected every sentence… Wasn’t it enough? she thought, her eyes dropped, her lips pressed together. If this were Istanbul, the jury would understand, but here… Her hands were sweating, she looked up at Beyza, "I guess it didn’t work out," she said, her voice shaky, her eyes lost on the stage. Beyza put her hand on her arm, "Wait, don't be sad, your writing was amazing," she said, but her own excitement was visible in her eyes.

The principal continued, "Now, the painting category," he said, opening a new envelope. "First place, Ceren from 11-B, her work 'Sunset'—wonderfully reflecting the town’s colors. Second place, Beyza from 12-A, 'The Dance of the Seagulls'—a detailed and vibrant piece. Third place, Ekin from 10-A, 'Fisherman's Net'—minimalist but powerful."

Beyza screamed, "I came second!" she shouted, jumping up, hugging Gizem, "Gizem, I did it!" Her eyes were sparkling, her hands trembling, "It’s because of you, you told me to join the painting competition that day at the beach, you encouraged me!" Applause erupted in the amphitheater, and Beyza ran to the stage.

Gizem was surprised, smiled, "Congratulations, you deserved it," she said, her voice sincere, but there was a hidden bitterness inside.

Beyza returned from the stage with a small plaque and a paint set, "Look, seagulls!" she said, showing the plaque to Gizem, "I drew this while we were sitting on the beach, the seagulls flying... Remember?"

Gizem looked at the plaque, seeing the gray tones in the seagulls' wings, "It’s beautiful," she said, touching it with her finger, "You’re really talented." Inside, she thought: Why wasn’t my writing chosen? Did I make it too personal? Her eyes welled up, but she quickly composed herself.

Beyza sat down, "Your writing was amazing, the jury didn’t get it," she said, her voice supportive, "I think every moment we worked together is an award already." She put the plaque in her bag, "Winning isn’t everything, those days on the beach… they’re enough."

Gizem smiled, "Thanks, Beyza," she said, her voice relaxed, but the bitterness was still inside her.

Yiğit came through the crowd, holding a water bottle, wearing his jersey, "I heard the results," he said, looking at Gizem, "It doesn’t matter if you won, your writing was the best." He reminded her of his medal from the music competition, "That’s your award," he said, grinning.

Gizem smiled faintly, "Thank you," she said, looking at Yiğit, "See you in the semifinals, I’ll be in the stands."

Yiğit nodded, "We have a promise," he said, winking, walking to the locker room with the team.

The gym was packed, 12-A faced 11-C in the semifinals. The stands were filled with banners, "12-A to the Final!" signs were waving, and cheers filled the air. Gizem took her place in the stands, her heart racing when she saw Yiğit on the field, If they win, we’ll go to the café… she thought.

The referee blew the whistle, and the match began. The first half was intense. In the 3rd minute, Mert pressured the opposing captain in midfield, stole the ball, "Emre, run!" he shouted. Emre darted down the right wing, controlled the ball, dribbled past the defender, and crossed into the penalty area—Yiğit controlled the ball with his chest, turned, and fired a powerful shot with his left foot into the corner. Even though the goalkeeper stretched, the ball hit the net: 1-0. The crowd erupted, Gizem clapped her hands, and Yiğit raised his fist at her.

In the 8th minute, 11-C won a free kick, the ball came into the penalty area, Kaan cleared it with his head, but the opposing player seized the rebound and shot—Can reached out, but the ball hit the post and went in: 1-1.

In the 14th minute, Okan pushed forward from the left, Mert passed the ball, Okan dribbled, took a shot—the goalkeeper saved it. The first half ended 1-1.

In the second half, the tempo increased. In the 19th minute, Ali came on, "Mert, to me!" he called, exchanged passes with Mert, and passed to Emre—Emre cut inside from the right, crossed to Yiğit, who headed it toward goal, but the goalkeeper saved it with his fingertips.

In the 24th minute, 11-C counter-attacked, the opposing forward dribbled the ball, Kaan slid to intercept, "Can, get ready!" he shouted, but in the second wave, 11-C shot—Can punched it away.

In the 28th minute, Yiğit dribbled, passed two opponents, entered the penalty area, took a shot—it hit the post, and the crowd groaned: "Ah!"

The match ended 1-1, and they went to penalties.

In penalties, Yiğit took the first shot, sending it hard to the right corner, and the goalkeeper dove the wrong way: 1-0.

The first player from 11-C took the shot, Can dove to the left and saved it: 1-0.

Mert took the second shot, sent the goalkeeper the wrong way and scored: 2-0.

The second player from 11-C shot, and the ball went into the net: 2-1.

Emre took the third shot and sent the ball to the top corner, the goalkeeper couldn’t reach it: 3-1.

The third player from 11-C shot, hitting the post and going out.

12-A won, the crowd went wild, and chants of "Final!" filled the air.

After the match, Gizem came down from the stands, and Yiğit ran to her, out of breath, "We kept our promise," he said, grinning, his hair stuck to his forehead from sweat.

Gizem smiled, "See you at the café," she said, her eyes sparkling, "You were amazing."

Yiğit replied, "I’ll be right there," he said, "We won for you." He put his hand on Gizem's shoulder, and they locked eyes.

In the corner of the stands, Pınar, Beste, and Zeynep were whispering. Pınar frowned, "Look at them, they’re right next to each other as soon as the match ends," she said, jealousy in her voice, crossing her arms.

Beste grinned, "Yiğit is totally in love with her, he's stuck to Gizem," she said, stifling her laugh.

Zeynep added, "They’re so close… we should do something," she said, narrowing her eyes.

Pınar pursed her lips, "We will," she said quietly, "She can’t just walk around like this." The three of them exchanged glances and whispered as they walked away, a sly smile on their faces.