I have never stayed after school for so long.
It's because my dad is away, and my mom works a lot in the evening. She can't pick me up until six even though I'm old enough to drive. I could have taken the car to school and back.
But I didn't, which is okay. That's how I met Alex.
He was in the gym, I saw him. Playing basketball with himself. That's when I remember that you're supposed to be in the after-school care place when school ends; not here. So, I had stepped into the gym and watched him play for a few minutes.
He was good.
"Um," I had said, my voice echoing across the walls. "Why are you here?"
The dribbling of the ball comes to a stop. Alex looks at me attentively; what was he so interested in? The rest of the gym is covered in posters cheering on our school team. He steps in my direction and smiles. "Want to play one-on-one?"
"No," I say. He didn't answer my question.
Alex shrugs. He picks up the ball again and resumes a series of exercises; layups and three-pointers and dribbling workouts too. His black hair tosses from side to side each time he jumps. He has changed out of the uniform into shorts and a shirt. Alex was boring me to death.
I keep my books down and walk over to where he is.
"Stop ignoring me!" I yell over the bounces of the basketball.
"I'm not ignoring you," answers Alex, shooting one more time. "I was waiting for you to leave."
"Well, I can't." I tell him. "Because I don't know where the after-school care is. And you're not allowed to be here."
"The teachers don't care," he spins the ball with his finger. "You can stay and watch me play."
"I don't want to watch you play!"
"Too bad so sad," taunts Alex, like a kindergartener.
This makes me pivot around with frustration and leave the room. I wish I had never met him. I could find the after-school place by myself. I didn't need anyone's help. And I didn't need to watch Alex play basketball either.
"Wait, chicken boy!" he calls out randomly.
I stop. "What did you call me? My name is Kien."
"Chicken boy," says Alex, rushing over. "Because you smell like chicken." He smells people?
"I'm vegetarian."
"Oh, I'm not."
"You're weird," I tell Alex because he is.
"Let's play basketball, Kien," he suggests.
"Let's not, Alex."
Sweat is piling up all over his arms, so I can't help but look at his muscles. His black hair sticks to his damp forehead and the ball is held in one of his arms. His jawline is perfect, more perfect than perfect.
"Tell you what," starts Alex. "If you can make fifty hoops, I'll show you where the after-school place is."
That is not happening. Ever.
"I'm bad at basketball."
"Fifty," he says, handing me the ball.
I throw it at his shoulder.
Alex yells dramatically. "Ow!" he says, "Ow, ow, ow. That hurt."
While he's distracted, I pick up the ball again and throw it at the basket. It goes in with a swish. I wonder if Alex was tall enough to dunk the ball. It would be funny to see him try.
"Nice," he commends. "Now do forty-nine more. Easy."
"For you," I say.
"How tall are you?" he asks as I make the next three baskets in a row. That's because I'm standing close to the hoop.
"Six foot seven,"
Alex snorts. "More like five seven."
"I'm not short. You're just overgrown." I argue, missing the backboard.
Alex passes it back to me. "So, how come you don't know where the after-school area is?"
A/N: I lost the other half of this chapter lmao 😭
