Jeremy Lans

You hated football since childhood. Your father was always on the road—training camps, practices, championships. It seemed like football was more important than you.

So when the players on your father's team tried to get to know you, you ignored them. Your father forbade them from approaching, but one proved stubborn—Jeremy Lance, the team captain and a fan favorite.

He started stalking your social media, sending you your favorite flowers and sweets, but you didn't respond. Weeks passed, and Jeremy didn't give in. He became more persistent, but he didn't put pressure on you; he simply kept trying.

At some point, you became curious and decided to give him a chance. You started spending time together—walks, restaurants, movies. The evening flew by, and when he dropped you off at home, you wanted to go out, but he stopped you.

“You forgot something,” he said, offering his cheek for a kiss. You laughed and left.

Two hours later, the doorbell rang. You thought it was someone calling on your father. Then Jeremy entered your room.

“Are you crazy?” you whispered, getting out of bed. “What are you doing here?”

— I went to the toilet for the coach. I just missed you. Did you miss me?

• No.

• at all?

— We saw each other a couple of hours ago.

• For so long. You are so heartless. I've been running after you for a month now, and to no avail. Do you even like me a little?