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HER ATTENTION

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HER ATTENTION
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BROOKE HAD A DATE. Well, sort of. His name was Jason Montgomery and he had invited her to watch his game and then grab dinner together afterwards. They had interacted a few times, nothing too special, but Brooke decided to give him a shot.

Dressed in a simple white top and plaid skirt, Brooke stepped into the gym with her friend Camille, who had insisted on coming to the game just for the "hot dudes".

"Oh yes," Camille whispered when she laid her eyes on the team warming up. "Look at their muscles."

Brooke shoved her lightly, shaking her head at Camille's behavior. But at the back of her head, she agreed - the basketball team definitely wasn't a sight for sore eyes.

Standing at the entrance of the gym, at the edge of the court, she searched the tall players for her date. She had barely began scanning the team when a tall hunk of brown-haired-seat-stealing-calculus-idiot basketball player blocked her line of vision.

It'd been two days since she last saw him, and the sudden sight of him brought a frown to her face.

"What are you doing here?" Flynn the Flipper said.

Brooke barely had any time to think before he tsked, "Oh wait, why am I asking? To see me, of course." Grinning and not taking his eyes off her, he jumped and attempted a blind three-pointer. Brooke's eyes followed the ball, unimpressed when it hit the basket rim and bounced away.

Flynn scratched the back of his head, "That usually goes in."

"Uh huh," Brooke rolled her eyes. She seemed to be doing that a lot around him. "Whatever, Flipper. I completely forgot you played basketball. I'm here for Jason."

"Montgomery?" Flynn snorted. "Really?" He shook his head disapprovingly.

"Yes, really," Brooke crossed her arms. "Why?"

"Oh nothing," he smiled teasingly. "It's just that...he sucks."

Brooke was at a loss of words at his abruptness. She hadn't expected him to speak this way about his own teammate. Fumbling for a good comeback, all she could come up with was, "You suck." And then she proceeded to internally slap herself for the weak comeback.

Flynn laughed, "Oh B, you'll see that I most definitely do not." B? Who let him call her B?

"Eastwood! Shut up and get your ass over here!" With that, Flynn Eastwood saluted Brooke goodbye as he jogged back to his angry coach.

Annoyed at not being able to get the last word, Brooke joined Camille who was unashamedly staring at the players from the bleachers. "You know Flynn Eastwood?" Camille asked.

"Yeah and he's the absolute worst," Brooke mumbled back. Flynn was all kinds of bizarre and she couldn't stand the way he talked, the way he acted, and the stupid frustrated way he made her feel.

When the game started minutes later, Brooke had to come to an unfortunate conclusion: Jason did suck.

Well, not really. It was obvious he was good at basketball, otherwise he wouldn't be on the team; it was just that he sucked compared to Flynn.

Jason wasn't nearly as interesting to watch as Flynn, who was scoring three-pointers left and right, layups here and there, stealing the ball from the other team like he owned the game – which he basically did.

Brooke hated that he was so good, hated his arrogant smile whenever he scored, hated that she couldn't take her eyes off him. They were trained on his bright red jersey that read 05 EASTWOOD.

When he scored the last half-court shot, the audience went wild, jumping to their feet, hollering their cheers. Brooke, refusing to be a party pooper, stood and clapped, giving Flynn credit where credit was due. He hadn't lied; he was undoubtedly a great basketball player. She just hated his face.

Flynn, jogging back to the bench and smiling at the audience, caught her eye and grinned wider. He winked at her, as if knowing he had impressed her.

But the wink sent shivers down Brooke's spine, and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why she liked that feeling so much.