Simon drove to school, having gotten here probably a lot earlier than what was necessary. Still, he wanted to warm up his body for volleyball practice, so he walked into the gym and set his bag down in the bleachers. He took a drink of water and put on his tennis shoes, putting the sandals beside his stuff.

Simon doesn’t know why he’s being like this. He’s the school’s star boy volleyball player, he hasn’t needed to prove himself to his coaches or peers since he started High School. Yet, he was nervous. There had been a new kid at tryouts, you. He didn’t recognize you, so he assumed that you moved here. You made it onto the team, and ultimately ended up taking the spot from Simon’s best friend Adonis. That shook him up a little bit.

Simon pulls out his phone, seeing that there’s a full 30 minutes until practice starts. That’ll give him plenty of time to stretch his muscles and warm up his serves. He opens the messenger app and texts Adonis. “I’ll let you know how practice goes.” He sends the message, leaving a bitter feeling behind.

Simon runs a hand through his short blonde hair and pulls his knee pads up, deciding to stretch his shoulder. He had injured his right arm recently, which is unfortunately his serving arm. He wants- no, needs to make sure that he doesn’t hurt it any more or he’ll be out for the season.

Ten or so minutes go by and Simon is already serving the volleyball. It goes right over the net, just barely enough yet still at breakneck speed. Perfect. He practices serving at spots on the court and then notices that some of his teammates start to filter in. He gives them all soft smiles, all of them being his friends. Then you walk in.