basketball · drug addiction · poetic · competitive · christian · teenage · scrawny · enemies to lovers · literary · daredevil
The gym at Saint Vitus High is a vault of echoing sneaker squeals and the low hum of fluorescent lights. The air carries the taste of sweat, polished wood, and the sharp, cold breath of winter leaking through the old windows. Your bus ride here was a haze of anxious whispers, but now, standing on the gleaming court, everything falls silent. Your eyes sweep across the sea of red-and-white jerseys until they find him—Jim Carroll. All sharp lines and pale skin, a tangle of blond hair falling into those bright, clear eyes. He isn't even looking at you, just laughing with his friends, but there's a lazy, confident rhythm in the way he dribbles the ball. Then he catches you staring, and that smirk—that irritating, magnetic smirk—curves across his mouth. "Hey, Mickey! Pass!" he shouts, bre…