𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟿𝚝𝚑, 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢
Miles POV

Everything in the world looks a little brighter today. Ever since the great time that Parker and I had this past weekend, it's like someone has slipped tinted sunglasses over my eyes, and I'm suddenly realizing how beautiful and colorful the world is.

I hum to myself as I slam my locker door shut and spin around on my heel, putting an extra shimmy in my step. Tucking the history book under my arm, I merge into the crowded main hallway and slip between my peers.

The chatter is deafening as friend groups quickly catch up on the latest gossip from over the weekend in the three minutes before the next bell can ring, couples argue over evening plans, and kids yell to capture their friends' attention at the other end of the hall.

None of the commotion phases me. I'm on auto-pilot as my newest friends pass by and offer their knuckles for a quick bump. I don't feel the shoulder slaps, and I hardly hear the greetings called at me.

Little do they all know that I'm gone in my own little world. Or rather, Parker's world.

I feel like a million bucks with the knowledge that we're not some exclusive little fling. His family and I are on a first-name basis. He knows all of my biggest secrets yet still hasn't run away, and he practically begged me for a little "us" time.

Seriously, I am living the dream.

A small smile tugs on my lips as I turn the corner and make eye contact with a few guys from his football team and a few cheerleaders who join us all at lunch every day. The boys tilt their chins up at me from the other side of the hall, and I return the nod.

They would all lose their shit if they knew I spent my weekend between their All-Stars' legs.

Chewing on my cheek, I push down my growing smile as I cross the hallway traffic and push open the door to history class with my shoulder. The moment the door closes behind me, all the noise in the hallway is silenced as if there are not hundreds of people out there.

A few kids huddled around their desks pause their conversations to look over at me as I walk in. Once they realize I'm no one important, they turn back to their conversations. Rose is the only one to look up from her phone and wave her fingers at me.

I grin and return the gesture, even as my eyes slide over a few more rows.

Parker beat me in today, and my heart swells seeing him sitting there. His sandals are perched up on my chair, and those red basketball shorts look awfully good on him this morning. A black hoodie hides away all of that toned muscle that I love to admire so much. The hood is pulled over his head, and messy, dark swathes of his hair stick out from under the hem. His hand is tucked under his chin, his eyes low and attached to his phone. I'm prepared to wave at him, too, except he never bothers to look up.

My gut plummets. It's the same feeling a person might get when they know they're about to get rear-ended in the car.

Something's wrong.

"Miles! How was your weekend?"

I blink myself out of the feeling of dread and turn to look over at Greyson. At least someone in this room cares for me. Too bad that it's the wrong part of the right family.

"It was pretty good," I reply lamely. "Relaxing."

What else am I supposed to say?

It was great! I spent the majority of my Friday night teaching your nephew a thing or two about blow jobs. I know, if it weren't for the fact that it physically happened and I have the bruises to prove it, I wouldn't believe myself either— considering he's back to ignoring me.

"Nice, I'm glad to hear it." Greyson clicks his pen and leans back, swiveling around on his chair to face me. "I wanted to take a second and ask you, have you thought about—"

"Mr. Miller!" The red-headed nerd that sits next to me comes dashing up the aisle, walking past me so fast that I stumble off to the side. "Can you please look at this question that you assigned on last week's assignment? Nothing about it aligns with this module."

Greyson sighs and clicks his pen again. The chair squeaks as he sits up and rolls closer to the desk, looking past the boy, his eyes falling on me. "Let's talk after class."

"Yes, sir." I salute and turn away to walk back to my seat.

My eyes stay trained on Parker as I get closer. I expect him to glance up and share a knowing look, a hidden smile, and maybe a little nod.

Anything. One little sign is all I need.

As I set my textbook down on the desktop, he slides his sandals down onto the floor with a loud smack.

"Sorry," he mumbles. Those green eyes that were lit with real, tangible passion three days ago are now strangely dark and disconnected. He still won't look at me.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine," I say sarcastically and take my seat. Swiveling around, I quirk an eyebrow at him. "Are you feeling okay?"

Parker exhales and raises his eyes to meet mine without lifting his chin. "I'm fine."

And I'm as straight as Channing Tatum.

The warning bell rings shrilly. Unfortunately, I'm not able to retaliate with a brilliant joke in time.

Parker looks genuinely relieved when Greyson stands up and claps his hands.

"Settle down, everyone! Phones down, eyes up, mouths shut, please! Pull out those assignments I passed out last Thursday." He walks around the side of his desk and grabs the laser pointer off of its designated dish. "We're going to grade them together in a second. First, a little mistake was brought to my attention..."

I stare at Parker for an extra heartbeat in case he has a change of heart and wants to show a little emotion. He's more than happy to continue ignoring me as he leans down to dig around in his folder.

The taste of blood fills my mouth, and I finally let go of my tongue with my teeth as I turn away from him.

So much for our great weekend.

- - -

When the bell buzzes again, I jump abruptly and get snapped out of my thoughts. I can't recall a single thing that Greyson taught over the past hour.

Everyone else is already moving fast, desperate to make a mad dash to the cafeteria and beat the daily lunch rush. I take this chance to turn around, my mouth open with the words already formed on my tongue. It doesn't help that Parker is already on his feet and quickly snagging his supplies.

"Can we talk later?" He asks hurriedly as he stuffs notebooks under his arms, dark strands of hair swinging over his eyes.

I hardly get the word sure out of my mouth.

Parker is practically out of the classroom already.

Huffing, I run a hand over my hair and watch the door swing shut behind him. After our last couple of conversations, I thought he was ready for this. Even he thought he was ready.

So what the hell changed over the last few hours?

A burning feeling of regret simmers in my stomach. I knew that I pushed him too hard, too fast. It looks like asking for consent doesn't work anymore. Next time, I'm listening to my conscience and keeping it in my pants.

The last few dawdlers leave as I stand up and slide my stuff off the desk. My sneakers squeak on the tile as I shuffle up to Greyson's desk. I try to forget about my relationship issues as I clear my throat. "You wanted to talk?"

Greyson nods and sits down in his chair, taking a moment to pick up the assignment sheets and repeatedly tap them against his desk. "Yes, I did. I'll be honest with you, son. I did a little digging with your records over the weekend. Tell me about your basketball years."

I chuckle politely and lean my legs on his desk, rubbing my thumb against the wood grain. It's sad how my boyfriend's uncle got me feeling appreciated and right in the chest before my boyfriend himself could.

"Well, that depends. What do you want to know?"

Greyson makes a thoughtful sound and lays the papers back down before picking up his pen and twirling it through his fingers. "How about this— Why did you stop? You had a great résumé going for yourself. Shit, Miles, you were well on your way to becoming the Parker of the basketball world. I understand that you've had a rough life transition starting back in eighth grade, but you could've joined any program at any school."

I'm taken aback at getting compared to the legend, Parker himself. Truly, I'm touched.

"I'm honored that you'd consider me on the same level as Park, but you gotta understand, sir, I didn't stop on purpose. Signing up and playing basketball in this area is expensive as hell." I pause and look up from the desk, meeting Greyson's gaze. "I'm not sure how much you've been told about where I come from, but these last few years haven't been a cakewalk. My momma and I have been getting rehomed by the court at the drop of a hat. I never wanted to join a team just to get booted out."

I'm not sure what kind of reaction I expect from Greyson, yet I don't expect the sadness and pity that shows in his eyes. He hums in acknowledgment and leans back, the pen in his hand coming to a stop.

"That makes sense. I don't blame you, so please don't get me wrong. I'm only curious because basketball season is right around the corner."

He hesitates for dramatic effect, giving my intestines a moment to summersault. "I need more talent on my team. Some of my best boys graduated last year, and I'm looking for a leader. I've seen the way that you command rooms and the people around you. I want you to play for me."

With each sentence, I find myself fighting to take in more air. The excitement from the mere idea of jumping back into the game of hooping is enough to make me feel like I'm ready to take on the world. Yet... "I don't know, sir."

Greysons' smile falls. He blinks. "You don't know?"

From the way his face is twists up, you'd think that no one has ever told this man no to his face before.

"Look, as much as I'd love to agree on the spot, I seriously don't know where I'll be this winter. There's always the chance that I'll have to hit the road with my mom again." Greyson lets out a breath and sets his pen down. I keep talking before he can cut in. "Why not use some of your football boys? I've played 1v1 with Parker before. The kids got some moves."

He chuckles at that and shakes his head. So much gel is packed into his hair that not a single strand moves. "I don't doubt that. The thing is, I don't want to over-expand Parker. He's signed up for a lot of football camps and training over the winter, so he's off the table. Besides, other than presumably playing with you, I've never seen him have an interest in the game. A few other boys already hoop for me, however, the majority can only handle a football."

I scoff. "That's because they need a little more color in their blood if you know what I mean."

My crude humor makes Greyson laugh and wave me away. "You said it, kid, not me. Would you at least keep me in the loop with your plans? This is a serious invite."

"I know it is." I tap my knuckles on his desk twice, punctuating an end to the sentence. "I'll do my best to let you know soon. Is that everything?"

Greyson hums in acknowledgment. "Yep, that's all I had for you. Enjoy the rest of your day."

"I'll enjoy what I can. Later," I reply and swivel away Greyson as I head out the door, every atom in my body singing.

Man, it feels nice to be needed again. And appreciated. Lord knows that the people in my life have been slacking in that department recently.

I ride the high from that conversation all the way back to my locker, replaying every single word in my head as I put my supplies away. The slam of the locker echoes down the empty hallway; my little chat with Greyson put me behind schedule. Everyone must already be gathered in the cafeteria.

Bouncing on my heels, a smile plays on my lips as I jaunt toward the corridor at the end of the hallway. Parker is going to lose his mind when I tell him the big news.

Our roles may be reversed in a few months. I wouldn't mind being the big player on the court this winter, with my hot boyfriend in the stands cheering me on. In fact, that would be a dream come true. It's too easy to imagine that scenario becoming a reality in my head. All of the parts of that equation are there. What we need to do now is figure out the solution.

With the thought of Parker and basketball at the forefront of my mind, I walk into the cafeteria and scan the room.

Mostly everyone is already seated and eating. Laughter, scraping utensils, and chatter echo off the walls. It's a beautiful autumn day outside, and the janitors have the massive glass garage doors on the other side of the room rolled up. Students are teeming around everywhere.

On the other hand, my friends are routine-oriented and sit at our usual table, jeering and laughing like usual. The seats are already filling up fast.

As I weave between lunch tables, I notice Parker following behind Griffin, Kendric, and Atlas to their usual spots.

Lagging might be a better way to put it. He's trudging like the floor is deep mud, his head down as he bounces a singular apple in his hand. He has got to be the only person at the table without a lunch tray.

My brain is so full of excitement that I don't give his behavior much thought. Shit, I don't even give any thought to the next words that come out of my mouth.

"Park, babe! Hold up, I've got some news," I say happily and a little too loudly. Then, my heart drops like I slipped out of the seat of a rollercoaster.

Griffin comes to a dead stop.

If it weren't for Parker's quick stopping reflex, as well, he would've run smack dab into Griffin's back. The entire 50-foot radius around our table goes silent at the sound of my mistake. My ragged breathing is the only noise I hear.

"Huh?" Atlas asks as he turns around, confusion etched into every line of his face as he points to his left. "This Parker?"

"What other Parker is there?" A mousy-haired girl asks under her breath as she and her friends spin around in their seats to watch the scene unfold. Her friend whispers into her ear.

Parker slowly spins around. His deep Californian tan is swapped with the white complexion of a sick elderly person. I can see that his pupils are dilated to pinpricks, like a cornered animal.

"I don't know what he's talking about," Parker breathes, his sentence ending in a small exhale as if he can't believe the words coming off his tongue. He's speaking to Atlas, the girls, the cafeteria, the world. Me.

Me.

"Let's not call me that, maybe?" He continues too quickly, driving the final nail through the coffin. I can feel the sting of it deep in my chest.

I want to scream at him. Punch that ridiculously sharp jawline. Rattle his shoulders until his teeth fall out. Slowly, I curl and uncurl my fingers at my side. That's something my dad would do, and I'm not stooping that low.

It would be easy to tell our peers that his thighs were wrapped around my shoulders a few days ago. He was begging for me to call him baby, then.

How he even has the balls to tell me off is beyond me.

Three years ago, I would've called out his bullshit. Maybe I would've even done that three months ago to someone if it wasn't Parker.

Except this is Parker.

I inhale slowly. One of us has to be the bigger person.

"My mistake," I start to say and raise my hands in mock surrender. "I mistook him for someone else that actually wanted to hear what I had to say. Won't happen again. Trust me."

Parker's lower lip wobbles as my eyes slide over to meet his again. I hate the way that his shoulders fall an inch in relief.

He wins this time— and his prize is one more day of keeping our relationship secret. Or should I say past relationship?

Because if I'm understanding this situation correctly, as I turn around and walk back the way I came, I know that we're over.

I'm not playing this game with him anymore.