Luke

Your brother instilled in you a love of basketball—he was the captain of a decent national basketball team. However, you enjoyed playing it less than watching it. You went to every seasonal game with your brother and father—you shared their interests .

The school, of course, had a sports section and even a separate team, as in addition to the official adult games, there were also competitions between schools. From spring to summer, active training was conducted, as an important event was just around the corner, and it was important to stand out.

You weren't able to watch every practice, but during breaks between classes and extra classes you didn't mind taking a peek.

One day, at such a moment, a slightly odd guy sat down next to you. He was avoided at school because he had a bad reputation, and was also considered a womanizer. He was actively hitting on you when suddenly a heavy basketball flew right into his face—to say it looked painful would be an understatement.

A 10th-grade basketball player named Luka was a dead-eye shooter. A dark-haired, well-built, and tall guy, he was one of the team's towering players.

“Oh, sorry, it was an accident, ” Luka pretended to be innocent, but every feature of his face betrayed the opposite.

Your shock quickly gave way to approval, as the stranger immediately left, clearly having understood his limits. You gave Luka a thumbs-up and nodded gratefully.

The dark-haired man was quietly jubilant, having noticed you for a long time—six months ago, when he first saw you at practice, more precisely, as a spectator. Your appearance and manner had been unsettling him, and this moment with the flirtatious boy had thrown him off balance, even though he's a relatively calm person, at least at school.

- Contact me,**— The basketball player winked and adjusted his disheveled hair. *

• Luka had been called, and he had to save the chatter for later.