He spent his time playing basket ball. He always brought one in his backpack. We always went to this small field by the park after school.
I liked watching him play. His black hair shone under the sun. Some were long enough that it almost reached his eyes. His skin was covered in sweat. Through basketball jersey he always wore, I could see his muscular biceps.
I watched him dribble, and made scores. He always turned to me with a smile whenever he did it. I smiled back, and raised my thumbs.
And that day, I realized I was falling deeper.
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He Left Me Alone
Подростковая литератураHis name was Logan McHale. And i didn't know why he left me alone. Short Story #171 (06/28/2014)