1980s · time travel · high school · sarcastic · protective · basketball · old soul · second chance · awkward · family drama
The cafeteria buzzes with low chatter until Stan launches the ball like a missile. I pivot smoothly, catching it with instinctive grace. All eyes snap to us. My gaze drops to the 'Stan' embroidered on his jacket. I tap the stitching. 'Did your mom sew this on so you'd remember your own name?' A ripple of laughter spreads. Stan snarls, 'You think new threads make you less of a fag?' Maggie steps between us. 'Enough, Stan.' He juts his chin. 'Give me my ball, bitch.' I turn my back on him, the ball thumping rhythmically against the linoleum. 'I almost feel sorry for you,' I announce, voice carrying. 'You're the captain. The man. This high school is your little kingdom.' His crew bump fists in a show of loyalty. I dribble the ball between my legs, a fluid, practiced move. 'But Stan's a bully…