"I'm Myles. And you look like you need some humor in your life." That was the first thing he says to me before sticking his hand out in the introduction.

I don't shake his hand, I just stare.

It was Wednesday, the first day of tryouts. The other boys around were dribbling basketballs and practicing their shots. I was doing the same until this kid interrupted me.

"Not a hand shaker, noted. So, I see that you're new here. You have this cold demeanor to you, did you know that? Not very approachable, but lucky for you I can be friends with just about anybody," he smiles.

"Not really looking for a friend."

"Oh, yeah, that's what they all say at first but then they get to know me, and BAM I'm the best friend that you got."

I ignore him and take a shot at the basket. The ball goes in without hitting the rim.

"Nothing but net," Myles comments. "Have you played on a team before?"

"Yup," is my only response. Playing with the other kids around the neighborhood doesn't really count as a team I guess, but the practice was the same. I'm used to playing on dirty concrete with basketball hoops that had beaten-up headboards and no nets attached to the rims. But like I said, the practice was the same.

"How are your layups looking?" he asks.

Some kid passes my ball back to me and I waste no time running it up to the hoop. With layups, it was about control of the ball and knowing the space between you and the hoop. When the headboard is fast approaching, I leap up to the hoop and bounce it off the backboard, so it goes directly into the net.

"Cool, very nice. What about your 3-point shots?"

I sigh impatiently. "What are you? Team captain?"

"No, Coach Leland doesn't believe in team captains. But I'm as close as it gets," He smiles again.

I dribble the ball slowly to the three-point arc, starting at the very left side where there's no backboard to help me. I swish the shot. When I get the ball back, I position myself at the center of the arc behind the free throw zone, but I still don't use the backboard to help me get this shot either. I walk over to the right side of the three-point line before Myles passes the ball back to me and I easily make it from this position too.

"Not bad, new kid," He gives an impressed nod of his head.

"My name's Roman," I tell him. Fuck being referred to as the new kid.

"Well Roman, it's not up to me but I'd say you made the team anyway."

I give him a short nod as the doors open at the end of the room. It's a group of girls that was said to be sharing the gym with us for tryouts. It seemed like a dumb fucking idea since half the boys were distracted already.

I recognize Valentina first, then the smaller blonde following behind her nervously. I know her name is Briar, but there was something amusing about how her brows subtly pinch in offense when I call her Bear.

That brunette girl with the eyes, I know her name is Naomi now. She and her friends come in shortly after. They look at Briar and Naomi starts ranting to the others, sending her glares and one of the other girls is shaking her head.

I didn't really get it. I'm not blind, I know Briar is pretty. Beautiful even... and I mean that objectively. She seemed social enough too. Aren't popular kids supposed to love that shit?

Maybe it was because she talked a lot. It had been three days of sitting next to each other, I knew she talked a lot.

I also knew jealousy was a big thing in the girl world, maybe it had something to do with that. Anyway, I shake my head at that thought. Girl world is too much for anyone to understand and I wasn't about to try.

I see another guy across from me looking at her too. I think she notices his stare and when she looks at him he nods his head up at her. She looks away quickly, maybe to hide a blush, and her reaction makes him smirk.

"Who's that kid over there?" I ask Myles.

"Uh, you mean Wesley or Axel?"

"Light hair," I clarify. Now that he said it, the name Wesley sounded familiar. I think he was in my English class. Which meant light hair kid must have been the other one.

"That's Axel Monroe. Bit of a tool if you ask me. Why?"

I didn't answer his question because there was no answer. "I thought you were friends with everybody," I mock instead.

"Yeah everybody who deserves my friendship. Now be nicer to me or I'll cross you off my friends list too."

The horror.

Valentina catches me watching from across the gym. She sticks her middle finger in the air at me and I match her greeting.

"Oh, I thought that middle finger was for me," Myles says from beside me.

"Why? Would she give you the finger too?" I ask giving him a once-over in judgment.

I think Valentina is annoying and we definitely don't have a loving relationship, but she was still family. I wouldn't ever make it obvious, but I also wouldn't let some asshole mess with her. I know what guys I'm supposed to be skeptical over, like the vibes I get from that Axel kid, but I don't get that from Myles.

He lets out a sound at my question that was almost a laugh. "Wouldn't be the first time." Then he gives me that same look over I gave him. "What'd you do for that?"

"I'm assuming she's made a whole book of reasons," I shrug. "It's been that way since we were kids."

He studies me with the same type of suspicion I gave him. "Family?" He questions.

"Cousins," I grumble. I decide then I'm done chatting, so I leave to grab the basketball.

>><<>>><>><<>><<

"How were tryouts?" Julius asks me at the dinner table that night.

I shrug my shoulders. "What I expected."

"Are you making any friends?" He asks me almost like it's an interrogation.

"That's not important," is all I say.

Julius takes a deep breath before he goes on. "One friend, Roman. All I want for you is one friend. I'll even take an acquaintance at this point, just one person you're not an entire dick to all the time."

"Wow, Julius. You've certainly been simmering on that one." His passion for making a single friend almost makes me smile a little.

"Just one person, Roman," He insists.

I pin him with a look. "You're one person."

He scoffs. "If you think you treat me like a friend, maybe being a complete loner is what's best for you."

"Well if you think that's best, then I agree." I decided that was the end of this conversation. I pick up my plate and take it to the sink to wash, hearing Julius mutter you're impossible under his breath.

"Well since your lack of friends means you'll be free this weekend, I need help around the shop," he says clearly.

"Sure thing, old man." Julius wasn't old, he was only 28. I liked calling him old because he was sensitive about turning 30 soon.

"Don't stay up too late you little fuck!" he calls as I shut the door to my room.

✎ A/N: this one is my fav banner bc it's just very aesthetically pleasing :)

Playlist now in bio!! (will update this playlist when this story is complete hehe)