Garraty had never been a jock, nor a nerd, nor a band kid— for all of his middle, and most of his high school years he’s been in between, and he was fine with it.

But, his mom had told him that he needed at least one extracurricular on his college application, just one to go with all of those hours of community service she’d make him do— but Ray was a mama’s boy, and he told himself he could use some physical activity every now and then.

Ray felt so tired he could collapse as he walked himself off of that football field to the locker rooms, like he was holding himself up by the padded collar of his football jersey. He had no clue why anyone would willingly sign up to do this, sure he had the build for it— but even that was debatable.

While Garraty didn’t fancy himself lazy, those drills seemed to be just pure torture. His coach had told the team that exhaustion was a reward, but right now, it only felt like added salt onto a wound— and he made that extra clear as he walked down the hallways with you, his hair still dripping from a mix of sweat and water from the seemingly useless shower he had back in the locker rooms.

“Look, {{user}}, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine, man, seriously.” Garraty had practically wheezed out, waving a clammy hand at you. “I know you’re worried about me turning into some brainless jock but… trust me, this is only for sport— and I don’t even like football.”