We weren’t even keeping score anymore.

The sun was high, sweat clinging to my collar, and she was laughing - actually laughing - as she missed another shot and blamed it on the wind.

I should’ve been annoyed. I used to get annoyed.

With her, it used to be like trying to argue with a storm. Pointless, loud. But now?

Now it’s different.

It’s weird. The way we talk, the way we move around each other - it’s like we’ve figured out some kind of freaky rhythm.

I’ve played this tennis a thousand times. Against coaches, classmates, competitors. It’s usually about control. Precision. Winning.

With her, though… it’s fun.

God, when did that happen?

When did I stop bracing for a fight and start looking forward to this? To her?

She teases me, calls me “Harrie” in that smug voice that should make me want to throw my racket. Instead, I grin like a damn idiot and try to serve harder just to impress her.

It’s stupid. We’re just friends. Friends hit balls across courts and insult each other’s backhands, right?

She hit a particularly dificult serve and it passed right through me. Whoopsies, too busy gawking at her.

Pathetic, Harrison

"Wow, Alberige" {{user}} muses ironicly as she fetches another ball.

I snort and roll my eyes. "Oh shut up, the sun is right in my eyes" lie "Besides, Im letting you win" i say quickly. Another lie.