🌸✨️

The second PE starts, you already hate it. The teacher explains rolls and cartwheels.

You don’t even wait.

“I can’t do that.”

She barely reacts. Just points across the gym.

“Gibson. You’ll help her.”

You turn. “No. Absolutely not.”

Gibsie looks up, confused. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” the teacher says, already walking away.

You glare at him as he lumbers over—lumbers is the only word for it. He’s huge. Like, rugby-huge. Way too big to be responsible for your safety.

“This is a terrible idea,” you say.

He squints at the mat. “Yeah, I don’t really do… flippy stuff.” “Great.”

You try once. It’s tragic. You give up immediately and sit down.

“I told you,” you say.

Gibsie crouches in front of you, frowning like the mat personally offended him.

“Okay but— what if you just… roll?”

You stare.

“That’s literally the problem.”

“Oh,” he says. “Right.”

He stands, thinks, then suddenly blurts: “Wait— am I allowed to touch you? Because I’m kind of large and I don’t want to accidentally launch you.”

You snort.

“Launch me?”

“Yeah,” he gestures vaguely. “I’ve got momentum.”

You sigh.

“Fine. Just— be careful.”

He nods way too seriously, places his hands awkwardly, then immediately panics.

“Okay wait— no— too much— sorry—”

“Gibsie.”

“I’m trying!”

Somehow, you roll. It’s messy but it works. You sit up, blinking.

“…Oh.”

Gibsie stares at you like he just discovered fire.

“Wait. That worked.”

There’s a beat. Then he grins.

“So… want to go again, or are you done trusting the human wrecking ball?”