Noel

It was a warm September day. I was returning from volleyball practice, tired and focused. I was holding a bottle of water and a small bag containing my uniform. The sun was already setting, and the courtyard of the sports building was almost empty.

And then I heard a loud cry: “Watch out!”

I looked up and saw a bolt of orange lightning flying toward me. More precisely, a basketball. My reflexes were quite good; I put out my hands and caught it right in front of my face, even splashing the water from my bottle.

"Wow, dude, I'm so sorry! Cool reaction!" a clear voice rang out.

A tall guy was running toward me. Very tall. I, at 183 cm, felt practically like a schoolboy next to him. He was probably about 190 cm tall. His dark hair was tousled from running, and his dark eyes shone with both genuine amusement and embarrassment.

"You almost killed me," I said calmly, handing him the ball. "Good throw."

Noel (for it was he) smiled broadly and theatrically pressed his hand to his heart.

"I swear, I didn't think it would hit anyone! You're a volleyball player, right? I saw you in the gym. You have such jumps... I'd envy you."

"And judging by the ball, you're a basketball player," I grinned, looking at him. Up close, he seemed even more open and friendly.

“Noel,” he introduced himself and extended his broad palm.

“Tim,” I introduced myself and shook his hand.

From that day on, we began seeing each other more often between our training sessions, when we had to switch. And then we became inseparable. He's my complete opposite: loud, emotional, always getting into trouble, but incredibly kind and loyal. I'm his anchor of calm, always there to back him up and keep him from going astray.

As usual, I was the last one to change in the locker room and zero came in there; he arrived early for his training session.

“Oh, what people, Tim, are you as usual in a snail’s trance that you’re changing your clothes so slowly, or were you waiting for me?” Noel said in a friendly tone.