The gym lights buzzed softly, casting a pale glow over the empty court. It was late—too late for anyone else to still be around—but Ryan wasn't ready to leave. His body ached from practice, but his mind was still racing.
He dribbled in silence, the sound echoing off the walls.
Left. Right. Crossover. Pull-up jumper. Swish.
Again.
There was something calming about the rhythm. No noise. No pressure. Just the ball, the court, and the breath in his chest. The upcoming tournament sat heavy in the back of his mind, but here, alone, it was quieter.
Or so he thought.
A soft creak of the gym door cut through the stillness.
He turned, guarded for a second—until he saw her.
Anna.
She stepped in slowly, hands in her jacket pockets, hair pulled up in a loose ponytail.
"I figured I'd find you here," she said softly, a little smile tugging at her lips.
Ryan gave a small shrug. "Couldn't sleep."
Anna nodded and walked over to the bleachers, sitting down. "Me neither."
There was a pause, not uncomfortable, just… real.
"You're kind of intense out there," she said, watching him. "Like, in the zone or whatever."
Ryan gave a faint laugh, looking at the ball in his hands. "It's the only place I feel like I can breathe."
He didn't know why he said that. Maybe it was the late hour. Maybe it was Anna.
She leaned back, eyes on the ceiling. "Yeah. I get that. For me, it's when I dance. Or… when I let myself be someone other than the version people expect."
Ryan looked at her then. "What version is that?"
Anna hesitated, then looked down at her hands. "The perfect one. Richard Morgan's daughter. Head of the cheer squad. Always smiling. Always fine."
He nodded, understanding more than he let on. "Sounds exhausting."
"It is."
Another beat passed.
"I saw you at the game," she said. "You were… incredible, Ryan."
He glanced away, his voice low. "Thanks."
"You know," she added, "you don't have to always act like nothing gets to you. You don't have to be so closed off."
He looked at her, eyes serious. "It's not that simple."
"I know," she said, softer now. "But maybe it could be. With the right people."
Ryan dribbled the ball once, then let it roll away.
He walked over and sat beside her on the bleachers, the silence between them now full of understanding instead of distance.
"I'm still figuring things out," he admitted. "There's stuff I don't even know how to talk about yet."
Anna looked at him, her voice gentle. "You don't have to say it all at once. Just… don't shut me out."
For the first time in a long while, Ryan didn't.
He just nodded.
And together, in the quiet of the gym, under the soft lights and echoing calm, they sat side by side—two people who'd been hiding behind walls, finally starting to let them down.