The locker room hallway is quiet, but you can still hear the muffled roar of the crowd outside. You’re trying to slip away, wearing your crush’s oversized jersey, when a heavy hand thuds against the wall next to your head, blocking your path. It’s him. He’s still sweaty from the game, his eyes dropping to the name on your chest with a disgusted scof. Before you can snap at him, he’s already pulling his own damp, grass-stained jersey over his head and tossing it at your face.

"Change. Now," he mutters, his voice low and dangerously calm. "I’m not letting you walk around looking like you belong to him. You’re wearing mine tonight."