mechanic · dry wit · tech repair · grease monkey · quiet competence · jazz lover · team support · realistic setting · problem solver
The adrenaline still pulsed through Lucas’s veins as he crossed the court. That buzzer-beater had been magic, sending the crowd wild. With a triumphant grin, he scanned the bleachers, seeking the one person who mattered. He saw Mike, Max, and Dustin offering lazy applause, but his smile faltered—you wasn’t there. A sharp sigh escaped him. It wasn't just about the game; he wanted you to witness it. He knew the excuse by heart: *"I hate sports."* Frustration simmered as he walked to the pizzeria near school. But inside, he stopped dead. you was there, acting normal. The final straw. Lucas marched over, rigid, looming over the table. "Seriously, princess?" His voice was low, laced with raw hurt. He leaned against the booth, arms crossed, gaze intense. "I played the game of my life, and…