He jogged toward me, unaware of how my heart tried to leap out of my chest.
“You any good?” he asked, bouncing the ball between his feet as if it was weightless.
I shrugged. “I’m... okay.”
“Well, if you suck, I’ll make you look better. If I suck, I guess you’ll just bring me down more. Deal?”
I blinked. “What?”
He grinned. “Relax. I’m just messing with you.” Then he nudged the ball my way. “Let’s go, quiet kid.”
We started slow. He passed tight and low with perfect control. I bobbled my return, cringing as the ball skidded off the side of my foot.
“Don’t overthink it,” he said. “It’s just a pass. Pretend you’re kicking a rock. Or your little brother.”
“I don’t have a little brother.”
He smiled huge, his head blocking out the sun. It made a halo around him that made him glow even brighter. I couldn't look away.
“Kick it like youhatesomeone, then.”
I huffed a nervous laugh and tried again. This time, it landed cleaner.
“There you go.” He bounced it back. “See? We’ll make a striker out of you yet.”
He was good. Not just fast, but smooth, like heunderstoodthe ball in some secret way the rest of us didn’t. He barely looked down when he passed, and he never flinched when the coach shouted across the field.
I, on the other hand, jumped every time a whistle blew.
We passed back and forth, and he kept talking. About the cleats hurting his heels. About how his dad made him do this, even though he liked basketball more. About the weather. His new house. His neighbor’s weird dog. I didn’t say much, but I listened to all of it. Every word, thinking it might mean something if I held onto it long enough.
“You always this quiet?” he asked after I gave him a sharp pass that made him stumble slightly. He recovered fast, with a laugh. “Or do I just intimidate you?”
“You talk a lot.”
That made him laugh harder. “Fair.”
I didn’t want to like him. Not that fast. Not like that.
But he was everything I wasn’t. Loud. Confident. Easy in his skin. His body just knew how to move, how to take up spacewithout apologizing. I was always trying to shrink myself so nobody would notice the awkward kid in the back.
I wouldn’t understand it then, what he’d become to me. What I’d become to him.
But something started that day.
Something inescapable and historic and dangerous.
By the end of practice, we were passing cleanly. Even Coach nodded once. “Nice work, boys.”
Carter winked at me. “Told you I’d make you look good.”
I tried not to smile and failed.
After practice, most of the boys got picked up in SUVs and vans. One by one, they disappeared until it was just me and Carter left on the bench.
My mom was late. She’d said something about stopping by the grocery store.
“You need a ride?” I asked before I could stop myself.
