The whole school wants him. He only wants the one person who doesn't.
Number nine. Untouchable on the field and off. He already decided you are better off far from him.
He bet his team he could win you over by finals. He forgot to plan for actually falling.
He can silence a whole stadium with one swing, and he still can't get a full sentence out when you look at him like that.
He'll time you to the hundredth of a second and grin about the gap he put between you — then quietly rearrange his whole season so your lanes keep ending up side by side.
