Lynn didn't wait by the gate this time.
She sat on the steps leading to the old gym, a place barely anyone used before first bell. It was quieter here—more private—and for some reason, she wanted privacy this morning.
Maybe it was because her heart was too loud.
Maybe it was because she was scared he wouldn't come.
But then she heard footsteps behind her—slow, deliberate.
And there he was.
Alex.
No words yet. Just presence.
He walked up and sat beside her, leaving exactly one stair's worth of space between them. Close enough to feel each other breathe, far enough that it still hurt not to touch.
"You changed the meeting spot," he said.
"I upgraded it."
"Why?"
"No crowds," she said. "No audience."
He nodded slowly. "Good choice."
They sat in silence for a few moments. It wasn't awkward. If anything, it felt like the silence was saying what they couldn't.
Then Lynn broke it.
"Your friends… Peter, Sam, Harden," she said. "Interesting mix."
"You've been watching me?"
She smirked. "Of course."
Alex chuckled softly. "Peter talks too much. Sam draws faces and never shows them to anyone. Harden's... Harden. Not much to say unless he decides you matter."
"And do you?"
"I don't know yet," Alex said. "But he hasn't punched me, so that's a good sign."
Lynn turned slightly toward him. "You always keep people at arm's length?"
He met her gaze. "Only the ones I don't want to hurt."
Her voice dropped. "And me?"
"You scare me," he said, without blinking. "Because I don't know what happens if I let you in."
The words hit her harder than she expected.
Not because they were cold.
Because they were honest.
Before she could reply, the back door of the gym slammed open, and the magic shattered.
Gallagher burst through it, holding a basketball, eyes wide when he saw them.
"Oh."
He looked between the two of them, registering the moment he just tore in half.
"I was just—uh—shooting hoops," he said, awkwardly backing away. "Didn't know this was, like… a thing."
"It's not a thing," Lynn said quickly.
Alex stood, brushing off his jeans. "It's becoming one."
Then he looked at Gallagher and added, "You play?"
"Yeah," Gallagher said, nodding too hard. "You?"
"Better than I talk."
A beat passed. Then Alex tossed his backpack onto the stairs and followed Gallagher inside without another word.
Lynn stayed where she was, stunned.
Not because Alex had left.
But because he'd stepped into her world.
Voluntarily.
Gallagher met her eyes as the gym door closed, mouthing, "What just happened?"
She didn't have an answer.
---
Ten minutes later, Lynn entered the gym and found the two of them mid-game. Gallagher was quick and scrappy. Alex was fluid—like he didn't move so much as glide.
It was strangely hot.
Fanshia and Dianne arrived a moment later, drawn by the noise and, Lynn suspected, the scent of chaos.
Dianne leaned over. "Are we watching your love life play out through basketball right now?"
"Apparently," Lynn said, lips twitching.
Fanshia folded her arms. "I didn't realize tension could dribble."
Gallagher went for a layup and missed. Alex caught the rebound and shot it clean through the hoop.
"Damn," Dianne whispered. "The boy's got form."
Gallagher laughed, panting. "Okay, fine, you win."
Alex smirked, grabbing his bottle of water. "I usually do."
Gallagher turned to Lynn. "He's cocky. I like him."
Alex looked at her too. "Are you impressed?"
Lynn crossed her arms. "You're alright."
He stepped toward her, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple. "Only alright?"
"You might be decent," she said, smirking. "If you can beat me in a game of one-on-one."
Alex raised a brow. "You play?"
"Better than I flirt."
Peter, Sam, and Harden had entered from the other side of the gym just in time to hear that. Peter laughed loudly. "Well damn. I like her."
Harden said nothing. Just nodded once in approval.
Alex stared at Lynn, his smirk slowly turning into something deeper. "Then I guess I've got competition."
She stepped forward and held out the ball. "Prove it."
Their fingers touched as he took it from her.
Sparks. No denying them anymore.
This wasn't some high school crush anymore.
It was something dangerous.
Something real.