Kyle sat on the bleachers, a volleyball rolling lazily at his feet. Practice had ended nearly an hour ago, but he hadn’t moved, letting the sound of the empty gym echo around him. His curls stuck damp to his forehead, and his hoodie clung to his shoulders in the lingering heat.

He should leave. His mom was probably waiting, and his phone had lit up more than once with messages he didn’t bother checking.

But right now, he needed the quiet — space to think, to breathe, to not argue with anyone. The silence was grounding.