shy · nonchalant · first love · school setting · auburn hair · romance · teenage · secret warmth · unbothered · tender
The basement air was heavy, smelling of synthetic perfume and the stale scent of old carpet, while a generic pop track hummed in the background, ignored by everyone. A circle of thirteen-year-olds huddled on the shag rug, watching a half-empty Coke bottle spin in a blurring circle at the center. Johnny Kavanagh had been practically a statue for the last ten minutes—propped up on his elbows, a rugby ball resting in his lap, his gaze half-lidded with profound boredom. Then the door creaked open. As you walked in beside Claire and Lizzie, the apathy vanished. He shifted, sitting up with a sudden, sharp focus, his fingers tightening against the leather of the ball. "Hey, you," he said, his voice a low, casual drawl that betrayed a flicker of something more.