Basketball has always brought comfort to my family since I was a little girl. As the only child in my family, I sit at home on a rocking chair between my parents, watching every game of the tournament throughout the basketball season. We didn't have a boy-a brother for me, that I am sure would've turned out like Brayden, who we all rooted for. Brayden is the town's golden son and the closest to a brother I have, and a son to my parents. I could have fallen in love with him. Have you seen him? He was towering and had those bad boy/tough boy physical features, with a good boy personality. And I am sure he would've been the only one to take me when everyone thought my unibrow and large nose couldn't meet the beauty rate. But while everyone in this town is head over heels for him, there are rules I must follow. It is quite well-known that we do not shit where we eat. Having a romantic relationship with my BFF's sibling is off the table, so my eyes found someone else, Myles Cameron, on the court at the same time Cali's eyes did.

Yes, she and I are soulmates. We are probably going to marry him and live in the same house for the rest of our lives. That is why we went shopping last week and brought the famous number six jersey for Halloween.

I can't wait for tomorrow. My dad even agreed to let me drive.

***

I remember it vividly like it was yesterday. Despite being excluded from the school party, with an explicit warning on the invitation that listed names of dirt, that is people like us. Yes, Chloe and I made the list.

We were lighthearted because we had gotten used to denial in the past two years. Moreover, we had planned to spend our evening at the theater. Then again, it was ruined like every other day.

Scarlett Maverick, if only she was the one who died instead of Chloe, who didn't get to experience the bright side of life. And now I still have to impress that witch to live.

My phone buzzed on the bed, next to my hip.

It was a message from Myles.

"Come over, spend the night with me."

Staring at the screen and repeatedly reading the text, it was then I recognized it was truly real. Myles was asking me to come over to his place. Myles had pronounced the L-word to me too. Myles and I had laid by the shore and watched the sky next to each other, holding hands. Myles was propped up on one elbow, shading me from the rays of the setting sun with his gorgeous face, while his finger drew an endless subtle circle on the skin of my contracted stomach, that bubbled with the excitement of his touch.

At once, I sat up and began to type a reply to his Instagram private message.

Cali: Brayden is going to suspect something.

Blushing extremely, I waited impatiently until he responded with a question,
"Does he check on you at night?"

Does Brayden?

Cali: I doubt.

I think I might be able to spend the night for the first time in my life with someone that isn't my family or best friend. I am spending the night at Myles Cameron. The man just last month, I was merely lucky to hold his posters in my arms.

"Then when he's asleep you should come over. I will be awake. I want to lay down with you on my bed." He sent.

OhmyGoal.

Breath, Cali. Breath. I am not going to die without knowing the experience of sleeping next to him. So I encourage myself to breathe while my fingers shake as I locate four letters to form a single word.

Cali: Okay.

My phone vibrates in my hand immediately. It's a reply from him.
"You'll come?"

Of course, I will. He has no idea how many times I've dreamed of being arm-in-arm with him on a white-dressed bed.

Cali: Yes.

After responding to that, I raced to the closet, where my fresh clothes are, and changed before
twirling under multiple sprinkling perfumes I had come over with for this specific day.

Most of the minutes I stalled, were in my room, waiting for Brayden to turn off the lights in his bedroom.
Eventually, he did, around midnight. With stealthy steps, I exited the front door, smoothly.

The last phase was the hardest. Even though I was excited about this, I became jittery as the elevator stopped on Myles's floor. Even more, when I stood in front of the door, I became hysterically nervy, I couldn't bring myself to lift my hand and knock.

I stayed affixed in my stance. I didn't knock. That is why I thought my body wasn't corresponding with my mind when the door opened from the other side and a casually dressed Myles, barefooted with spiky bedroom hair, flashed me a grin.

"Turns out lucky this time. I can't count how many times I had opened the door to check if you're contemplating knocking." He relievedly said. It processes in my head, I wasn't crazy. In fact, it was he who was crazy over me.

Pride enveloped me. I bit my lip to control the redness of my cheeks as I could feel them heating up when he held up his hand for me and I slipped my small one into his open palm.

When we were inside and he had released me, walking away towards a luxurious bar that Brayden didn't have, I awkwardly pondered on what to do with my legs, as I was still standing by the door. My eyes wandered around the apartment that comes off entirely different from my brother's even though they're in the same building.

"Your house is different from Brayden's," I spoke out, and he spun around with a glass of water, advancing toward me.

His shirt was paper white but it wasn't new, his denim pants were black and he had a brown plaster around a finger supporting the cup he was carrying. He didn't have it earlier. Did he hurt himself?

Reaching me, he handed over the cup of water and seductively smirked when he leaned forward. I thought we were going to kiss, "Entirely." he said, and gradually walked around me, raising every hair on my body in the anticipation of what he was going to do. I couldn't bring the cup to my lips, so when the clicking sound of the door came up in the quiet, the moment he flipped the lock, it got me jumping a little.

I tried to move and turn over to face him, but his hand instantly came around my stomach, and his head buried itself in the nook of my neck, like the other day at the view of Los Angeles after the exhausting hike.

My breathing was heightened. I struggled to have small conversations.
"But how?"

"I was here before everyone. It was a new place, I got to survey and choose my preferred choice. It's a perk of being early," he answered simply.

Gulping multiple times didn't stop my voice from sounding squeaky when I nervously said, "Cool."

There was no self-control left in my bones that I hadn't gathered to put myself together, but as more silence settled, he slowly slipped his fingers under my black baggy t-shirt, waking goosebumps as he traced my ribs with his fingers.

At that pleasure, my throat dried up, and my vision turned blurry. All the strength and willpower I had were suddenly beaten by his trap, they caved in and let go of me. My head made a wall with his chest for support when it fell back. On a regular basis, I would be ashamed of breathing too loud, scared not to call any attention to myself, but right now, my amplified panting was all that was audible in the room, even with the TV on.

"Come, I will give you a tour." He whispered. Then he had to place a wet kiss on the skin above the bone of my collar.

My limps slacked. I forgot all that I was in possession of until I heard the shattering sound of broken glass.

Shoot.

A gasp escaped me unwillingly at the shock of the damage I'd made, but when I looked up over to him as he was circling around me, scrupulously lacing our fingers, his eyes devoured my figure with attention.

"I broke your cup."

He steps backward, dangling our hands in the air. He was smiling charmingly when he complimented, "You smell nice."

It was irrelevant, but it was something I would die to hear over and over again.
"Really?"

"Um hmm." He returned a seductive smile while mine was winsome.

Bashful, I croaked, "Myles, I broke your glass."

"Yet my heart has never been this intact." He quipped and pulled me over until our bodies were adjoined. "Come, let me show you around." He offered, and the air was knocked out of my lungs.

A second later, he let go of my hand, cupped my face, and leaned much closer to my face. Fire blazed in his stare, this pinned me in my position. I didn't move. I wouldn't even if I could. This is everything I had hoped for.

One thing I should clarify is that no one ever looked at me this way. This is a first for me, to be admired, and seen with attraction, not disgust.
"I should clean this, it's harmful." I irrationally mumbled when the quiet worsened, and his thumbs stroked my skin gently.

~

"Myles, what kind of movies do you watch?"

It was a wrap on an exciting tour on Myles's floor. He was right, there were luxuries and extra space that was deficient in other condos. Like a Jacuzzi, a basketball court, a gymnasium, and a theater that he said he has barely used since he put up a television on the wall in his living room. Now I only contemplated whether he was in the same building as Brayden because, honestly, no one would agree with the truth.

"Those from the 80s." He answered as I was browsing through HBO. The remote slipped off along with my jaw. Myles laughed. "I was joking. Actually, I thought maybe you should choose."

That's a relief. I picked back the remote and selected Netflix.

"Have you seen stranger things?"

"What's that?"
He was looking at me. His face tells me he was unaccustomed to what I had asked. It's just far-fetched that he does not know of the world's favorite show. Come on.

"No no. Please be kidding me." His gaze constricted, surveying me with no idea in his eyes. "You truly haven't seen that epic show?" Disappointed, I added.

"Should I have?"

He stretched his legs onto the coffee table and crossed them by the ankle. His head was resting at ease on the backrest, facing me. The sight of him looking effortlessly handsome and looking at me had butterflies fluttering around in my gut. I fold my legs onto the same couch and face the TV, avoiding his condensing stare.

"Everyone had. It has over one billion watch hours after its month of release." I broadcast hysterically next to him.

"There are over seven billion people in the world."

My eyes rolled instinctively.

"That's not how it works." I adjusted and faced him. "You see Netflix is a successful network, right? The only TV show with a watch hour record higher than the stranger things is the squid game."

"So the squat game has billions of watch hours ahead of strange things? Uhmm." His lips shrugged thoughtfully as his eyes turned upward.

Now he's being sarcastic. Great. I swatted his arm and he chuckled.
"I told you that's not how it works. A million hours is a lot. How don't you know that? And they're not called squat and strange. It's a squid and a stranger. We said we were going to watch something. Let's concentrate." I readjusted to my former sitting position, but he still had his focus on me. It's something that makes me feel respected and admirable.

"But we can be kissing and watching." He said affluently, giving me knots in my stomach as my eyes steadied on the large screen.

"No, you need to listen attentively. God, when was the last time you sat down and watched a movie?" It wasn't a question but it sounded like that. I was chewing my bottom lip awkwardly, conscious of his stare.

"My senior year, I watched season six of GOT."

Okay, that does it. I tilted my head in his direction.

"You haven't seen anything since your senior year? Like you haven't seen Daenerys go crazy?"

Where had he been?

"Why are you telling me a spoiler?" He accused with a puckered forehead. His eyes thinned to slits.

"She was killed and most of her dragons too," I added intentionally.

Myles's eyes bulged out, pushing up his head from the backrest.

"And then she fell in love with-"

That wasn't able to be concluded because he leaned over and took my lips in his. There was an electrical-like jolt at that instant. I was amused at how fast he reached over and how flexible I had totally become, now that he had brought me over his lap. One thing led to another, with the existence of my hormones, I pulled off his shirt, ceasing our kisses for a moment before he bonded our lips again when his trunk was bare.

His trunk was bare and I was hovering over him.
Resistance was the hardest thing to do. My mind couldn't rest unless I looked over, even if it was for a little while.

When I pulled back to peep, his lips followed mine and we smiled at the same time.

"Don't stop." He partially begged.

"I don't intend to."

"What are you doing then?"

Confessing I want to explore his skin doesn't seem and look as embarrassing as I do, looking at him with parted lips and shocked eyes. Yet still, I couldn't admit it.

He chuckled at the panic he found in my complexion.

"Cali, we don't have to do anything..." He started and I didn't let him finish. I stepped down from his lap and shrugged off my t-shirt and then my shorts in front of him. We were attracted to each other. It was a good thing. His breathing hitched, he had stopped talking, and he only had his eyes skimming my half-naked body.

Earlier, while I was getting ready, I had worn the pair of undies he had helped me choose at the mall the other day. Yes, the one I drenched when I got excited by him in the changing room.

Hooking some locks of hair that had fallen over my face behind my ear, I bit my lip to gain courage and stepped forward, straddling his lap again. His hands came on both sides of my hips. I felt him shudder, his soft lips glide amid my breasts, but he didn't kiss. When his head fell back in my hands, his eyes were closed. He slowly freed his bottom lip between his teeth and swallowed loudly.

He was the portrayal of indescribable beauty from myths and legends. He was painted flawlessly like glass and attractive as it glimmers. He was all mine like I had dreamed.
Tracing his face with my fingers was satisfying for both of us, he remained quiet and peaceful in the ineffable ecstasy I was relating to.

"You don't have a tattoo."

It was then his eyes opened, my hands were now outlining the muscles around his chiseled torso. He looked at me comfortably, and asked, "You want me to have a tattoo?"

"I just thought celebrities like ink on their bodies."

"You have a tattoo?" He asked.

"My parents wouldn't let me. Besides, I am not a celebrity."

"So you're a good child." He smiled and I blushed, my eyes downcast toward his perfect set of abs.

"I am on top of you."

"You still have your bikini. You're still good," he said. I thought maybe he wanted me to take it off. I could. It was him anyway. It was him I had always wanted it to be.

"I have to take it off to be qualified as a badass?" I questioned, but instead of a reply, he chuckled charmingly.

His hands squeezed my hips and I looked up and met his eyes. They were crammed with lust as he wet his lips with his tongue.

"You want me to take it off?" I cautiously asked. A little excited and embarrassed-A little nervous and fearful of disappointing him compared to Autumn, who's older and better and highly experienced.

He pushed forward from the backrest and kissed my neck. It was warm and wet-I trembled. His hand came around the hook of my bra, my body stiffened when I thought he was going to unbuckle it, but then he rose with my legs hooked around his waist. We were moving, I didn't care to worry about where we were heading. I was only relishing the skin-to-skin embrace and his scent that invaded me completely.

He gently laid me back on a soft bed and followed me.

My eyes opened and I timidly asked him if we were going to do it. Maybe he discerned my nervousness because he spoke wise and rich when he suggested we take it slow.

"I just want to sleep with you in my arms." He whispered in my face. His eyes were closed, our nose and forehead touching. The bedding wasn't white, it was brown and silky and it was much better.

That was another goal Chloe and I had always dreamed of. And right there on Myles's bed, he and I lay closely together, skin to skin, our legs tangled, fingers intertwined, and we passionately made out until blank.