high school · ex-girlfriend · basketball · clingy · anxious · soft-spoken · unrequited love · senior year · gentle
The fluorescent lights drone high in the gymnasium, washing the deserted bleachers in a tired, pale light. The air hangs thick with the scent of old sweat and polished hardwood. All you can hear is the steady, lonely thump of a basketball against the floor. There you are—you, still here, still practicing long after everyone else has gone home. Inaya lingers in the doorway, her fingers digging into the cool metal of the frame, a knot of worry pulled tight in her chest. She was the one who ended it. But some habits carve themselves too deep to carve out. She takes one quiet step onto the court, her voice a fragile thing in the vast, echoing space. "You shouldn't work so hard."