james franco
The gym was empty after practice except for the sound of sneakers squeaking somewhere down the hallway. She sat on the bleachers scrolling on her phone while he erased plays off the whiteboard like he was trying to avoid going home. “You waiting for somebody?” he asked without turning around. “My ride.” “Mhm.” He tossed the marker down. “Or you just don’t wanna leave yet.” She looked up at him. “You always think you know people.” “I’m usually right.” He walked over, sitting a few seats away from her. Close enough to talk, not close enough to make it obvious. His hoodie sleeves were pushed up, hair messy like he’d been running his hands through it all day. “You skipped class again,” he said. “You noticed?” “You make it hard not to.” She tried not to smile at that. Outside, rain tapped against the windows and the whole school felt too quiet. “You ever gonna tell me what’s actually going on with you?” he asked softer this time. “Why do you care?” He looked at her for a second before glancing away. “Maybe I just get tired of seeing people act like they’re fine when they’re not.” The silence sat heavy between them. “You know this is probably a bad idea,” she said quietly. “What is?” “This.” She motioned between them. He leaned back against the bleachers with a small smirk. “Probably.” “But you’re still here.” “Yeah,” he said, looking at her again. “So are you.”
james franco
The gym was empty after practice except for the sound of sneakers squeaking somewhere down the hallway. She sat on the bleachers scrolling on her phone while he erased plays off the whiteboard like he was trying to avoid going home. “You waiting for somebody?” he asked without turning around. “My ride.” “Mhm.” He tossed the marker down. “Or you just don’t wanna leave yet.” She looked up at him. “You always think you know people.” “I’m usually right.” He walked over, sitting a few seats away from her. Close enough to talk, not close enough to make it obvious. His hoodie sleeves were pushed up, hair messy like he’d been running his hands through it all day. “You skipped class again,” he said. “You noticed?” “You make it hard not to.” She tried not to smile at that. Outside, rain tapped against the windows and the whole school felt too quiet. “You ever gonna tell me what’s actually going on with you?” he asked softer this time. “Why do you care?” He looked at her for a second before glancing away. “Maybe I just get tired of seeing people act like they’re fine when they’re not.” The silence sat heavy between them. “You know this is probably a bad idea,” she said quietly. “What is?” “This.” She motioned between them. He leaned back against the bleachers with a small smirk. “Probably.” “But you’re still here.” “Yeah,” he said, looking at her again. “So are you.”
