Foul of Seventeen | Sports Romance • Highschool Romance 🖤🏏

We were never meant to be a love story. We were always a war. Ayan Sehgal is Sterling International’s golden nightmare — arrogant, devastatingly handsome, and a ferocious cricket batter who plays like his life depends on every run. Middle-class fire. Explosive temper. The kind of boy the entire school wants and fears at the same time. Nyra Meher is the untouchable billionaire’s daughter. Bored. Brilliant. Razor-tongued. The girl who looks at bad boys like Ayan and sees nothing but a waste of oxygen. For years, they were childhood rivals who hated each other with venomous passion. Then Class 11 Science threw them into the same section for two years straight — and their hatred became dangerously addictive. Stolen kisses after midnight matches. Promises whispered between sharp insults. A secret love so intense it felt like ruin in disguise. Until Nyra destroyed everything. Right before the most important U19 selection match of his life, she publicly shattered him. Leaked his worst moments. Humiliated him in front of the entire world. Watched him choke on the pitch, lose control, and get banned for a year. He left the country hating her with every broken piece of himself. Five years later, Ayan is back — colder, angrier, and far more lethal. He’s here for one thing only: revenge. But fate has one final, cruel twist. To qualify for the senior national team, Ayan must pass a mandatory neurological and psychological stress evaluation. The medical specialist who now holds his entire career in her hands? Nyra Meher. He wants to ruin her. She’s already ruined for him. Every time she steps close to monitor him, the machines betray what his mouth refuses to admit — his heart still races violently for the girl he hates most in the world. “Your cognitive response times are dropping, Ayan,” she said, voice cold and clinical, nothing like the girl he once kissed in the rain. “Your brain is stuck in perpetual trauma response. If these metrics don’t stabilize in the next ten seconds, I’m red-flagging your file.” Ayan lunged forward, wires pulling tight against his skull, dark eyes burning into hers. The monitor screamed in alarm. “Then red-flag it, Doc,” he growled, voice low and lethal. “Five years ago you used that pretty mouth to destroy my life. Now you want to use a machine? Go ahead. Tell the selectors my brain breaks the second you’re in the room. Tell them the truth — that even after hating you with everything I have… my body still bleeds for you.” Some rivalries don’t end. They just wait for the perfect moment to ruin you twice.