Damon List was many things: a star basketball player, smart, handsome, and kind. Standing at 6'2", his dark blonde/Brown hair curled beneath his ears, and his green eyes sparkled with that familiar, effortless charm. He was the kind of guy who made everyone around him feel at ease. That is, except for today. Today, everything felt off.
The morning had started like any other, except for the fact that I had twisted my ankle the day before during practice. 'It Hurt like a bitch.'
I stared at my foot like it betrayed me which it did when it decided to stop working.
As I rushed to get ready, I winced with each step. 'this sucks'
My thoughts were consumed by one thing: the game. I couldn't let this injury ruin my team's chances.
My "girlfriend", Elena, stood as the polar opposite of him: a fiery redhead who was 5'5" of sheer determination. She had dark green eyes and a smile that could melt anyone in her path. I loved her but as a friend, though there was something lately, something unspoken, that gnawed at me, I felt horrible.
"Are you going to tell me how we're getting to school, or do I just drive around aimlessly again?" Elena asked, snapping me from my thoughts. She was waiting by the door, arms crossed, clearly already annoyed by my tardiness.
"Yeah, sorry." I shrugged, attempting to mask my frustration. My ankle still hurts, and the idea of sitting in a car for twenty minutes didn't appeal to me. "Just need to grab my stuff and we can go."
As they pulled into the school parking lot, I noticed the usual flurry of attention that followed him. My teammates greeted me with slaps on the back, students whispered about the upcoming game, and then, just as predictably, I was bombarded with questions about my non-existent relationship with Elena.
"How's Elena, Damon? You two good?" a classmate asked with a mischievous grin.
I smiled through gritted teeth. "We're fine," I muttered, brushing off the inquiry.
It was a routine I've grown used to, but it didn't make it any less annoying. Elena and I are not dating, she likes girls and I like guys.Our Mother's are friends so we are friends, You cant tell people here that they dont listen.
As I walked through the crowded halls, the whispers followed me, some genuine, some nosy. God,This Annoying!
At lunch, I found a moment to sit in peace by the basketball court. I watched my teammates shooting hoops, my mind wandering when a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"Hey, List," Jesse Kyle called from the bleachers. His tone was casual, but the smirk on his face suggested he was always up to something. "What's it like being a jock for a day?"
I turned, surprised to see the Handsome Troublemaker sitting there, arms crossed as if he owned the place. 'When did he get there?'
Jesse had made quite the impression in their recent detention together. He was a troublemaker, sure, but there was something strangely captivating about him. Maybe it was the way Jesse had held his own when they were thrown together in that stuffy classroom or the way his eyes had sparkled with a hint of mischief even while serving out a punishment.
'AHHHHHH'
"Same as always," I replied, I could feel a small smirk playing at the corners of my lips. "Just trying to survive the chaos."
"Chaos?" Jesse raised an eyebrow. "You call that chaos? Try a bucket of paint on Mr. Thompson's desk."
I laughed.The memories of that awkward afternoon in detention flooded my mind—the way they had shared sarcastic quips, exchanged stories of school mischief, and laughed more than he'd expected.
"Not sure I can keep up with your level of chaos, Kyle," I teased with a small smile pulling at my lips.
Jesse tilted his head, watching me with a playful glint in his eye. "Oh, I don't know. You might surprise yourself."
3rd Person POV
It wasn't often Damon let himself get pulled into someone else's whirlwind, but there was something about Jesse's unbothered attitude that made him curious. Damon had always been the responsible one—the guy who had his act together, who knew when to focus and when to play. Jesse, on the other hand, seemed to operate on a different wavelength entirely, one that made Damon question the seriousness with which he treated everything. Could he—Damon List, the golden boy of Camden High—have some fun for once?
"Maybe I'll surprise you," Damon said, standing up and testing his foot. It still hurt, but he wouldn't let that stop him. "You got any ideas?"
Jesse grinned, clearly enjoying the interaction. "How about you come down here and show me how it's done? You've got the moves, right? Or are you just another pretty face?"
Damon felt his competitive nature flare. He wasn't going to let Jesse get the best of him. "You're on, Kyle."
And just like that, without fully understanding why, Damon was stepping into Jesse's world—one where rules were bent, and where his usual responsibilities seemed less important. They might have been unlikely allies, but something about this rivalry, this playful exchange, felt like the beginning of something that could change everything.
Jesse was right. Maybe he would surprise himself.