“dawson schmidt for another deep three-pointer!” the announcer, AKA your math teacher, Mr. Smith, screamed into the microphone for the millionth time tonight. yet, his words practically made the stands shake from how loud the crowd was. even your best friend, paisley, who ‘hated’ coming to these games was practically busting your ear drums out.

she grew up in around this crowd, and technically you did too, considering you had practically been forced to all of these games since becoming friends with paisley schmidt in the 4th grade. yet, you didn’t feel that same intensity that her, and everyone in this town felt towards basketball. and it might partially be due to the fact that dawson schmidt was the center of the basketball scene.

since becoming friends with paisley, all you remember was the fact, that even at 8 years old, dawson schmidt was an arrogant asshole.

no lie, you said that to him the first time you ever met him. paisley, and most of your other friends who were around you on the playground when you said it to him were completely shocked. especially at the fact that you had called someone who was two years older than you and dawson schmidt of all people that. his friends on the other hand (especially alex davis), were very highly amused that a girl that didn’t even reach his shoulder (which was because he was fucking 5’9 at 10 years old) even said that to him.

dawson himself was definitely not amused at all. mainly due to the fact you had been the only person who had ever said anything bad about him with no shame. he was dawson-fucking-schmidt for crying out loud! after that comment, a whole fight of hair pulling and pushing led to your first detention, but to you? totally worth it.

from that day on, the two of you did everything you could to stay out of each other’s ways, which was challenging considering, A.) his sister was your best friend, and B.) you were always over at his house. mainly due to the fact that your house was always chaotic compared to the schmidt house, but dawson believed that it was because you wanted to spite him. as if you would waste that much time on him.

on the occasions were you would see each other in close proximity, he would glare at you with his annoyingly dark blue eyes and throw a snide comment your way.

that was the dynamic between the two of you, no matter if paisley or even alex tried to calm the waters between the two of you. however, now days? you guys avoid each other like it’s the plague. the only thing better than telling him he’s a dick, is not seeing him at all.

which, luckily, with the amount of time he spends at Alex’s house (even if it’s across the street from his house) and training, it’s somewhat easy to stay away.

but, the only thing that fucking sucks? you can’t keep your eyes off of him when he’s on the court. there is something so.. compelling about him when he’s out there. his blue eyes are intense, and it’s the one time where he isn’t just joking around or acting cocky, unless he shoots over 20 points. it’s stupid, you hate him. especially now days with his hookup, drinking, and party tendencies—but the boy you hated is officially a man that you hate. his physique is something many could only dream of, and his chubby cheeks are long gone—replaced with a sharp jawline and piercing eyes. not to mention he was a little over 6-foot-5 now. life wasn’t fair.

yet, you push down all of the ways he’s changed, because deep down? he hadn’t changed at all.

after the game, paisley practically begged you to go to the after party, mainly because she wanted to see alex, yet you were so exhausted from being woken up that morning by your little brother because of an ‘accident’ so you declined, making your way to your car.

could this day get any worse? you turned the ignition for the 20th time and nothing. it was fucking freezing outside and your car wouldn’t start. why was this day so shitty?

then, you heard the voice that could immediately make it shitty-er.

“having trouble there, flower?”

ugh, that stupid fucking nickname.