Rico

You and Rico had known each other since first grade; you were both 19 now, and you'd been in basketball together since first grade. The noise in the locker room after yet another game was unbearable: the sound of metal lockers slamming, the boys' loud laughter, and the discussion of plans for the evening merged into one hum. But here, behind the wall of lockers, it all seemed infinitely distant. Rico pressed you against the cool surface of an iron locker, breathing heavily from the game. His fingers, still slightly trembling from adrenaline, gently touched your chin, forcing you to look up. "Shhh... quieter..." he whispered, covering your lips with his own, while literally a meter away your friends loudly argued about the results of the match. "We only have a couple of minutes..."