Chad felt sweat trickle down his bare back as dribbled a basketball once, twice, the sound reverberating dully around the gym. He closed his eyes and took a wild hook shot at the hoop. A tell-tale swish, and he grinned. He'd made it.

As he jogged to pick up the ball, he caught a movement in the corner of his eye and frowned. Usually he had the gym to himself – after all, who else would come to school an hour early by their own free will?

"Chad?" He heard his name called out by a familiar voice, followed by quick footsteps.

"Lindsay!" He greeted with a grin, turning to see the brunette jogging over to him. "What're you doin' here?"

A stray emotion darkened her face, but before Chad could identify it, it was gone. "I could ask you the same thing. Doesn't the team usually practice after school?"

Chad nodded, and his glasses slipped down his slick face. He pushed them back into place. "It's just me in the mornings. Ain't no such thing as too much practice."

Lindsay rolled her eyes, smiling. "You're the best player on the team." Chad noticed her eagerness to switch the topic from herself, but didn't comment.

"That – all right, it's true," Chad admitted with a shy grin. "But it's only because I practice. When I first started playing, I could barely bounce a ball, let alone move my feet at the same time."

Lindsay laughed, trying to picture him as anything but a star athlete. "I never would have guessed."

Chad's grin faded, and he nodded, spinning the idle ball in his hands. "Yeah. It ain't – it doesn't come natural, to me. But it's what everyone, my parents, my friends, expected me to do. What does come natural to me, they don't like, or understand." He hesitated, glancing away. He eyed the basket and took a shot. It rolled around the rim, wobbling precariously before falling in.

"Why," Lindsay paused. She was going to ask Why are you telling me this, but instead said, "Why do you keep doing it, then?"

The boy shrugged. "I'm good at it. How about you?"

Lindsay quirked a brow at him, feeling her pulse pick up. "What?"

"Why do you run?" He clarified, watching her closely.

"I like running. And I'm good at it."

"Does Alex like running?" He asked innocently, biting back a laugh when Lindsay's eyes widened and a faint blush stained her cheeks.

"H-how should I know?" She stuttered, staring down at her neon pink sneakers.

Chad shook his head, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Y'all seem close, is all."

Lindsay sighed, thinking back to Wednesday when she'd driven Alex home. Ever since then the blonde had been avoiding her. It was Friday now, which meant they had Journalism Club later.

"We're not close," she said in a small voice. Chad opened his mouth to say something, so she added, "And I don't want to talk about her. I just…" She sighed again, looking almost on the verge of tears. "I want to run."

"Alright." Chad hesitated, watching the girl turn away, and added, "I'm here every morning, if you ever…want to run with company."

He heard a sniffle. "Thanks. I might take you up on that." And then she took off.

For the next half hour, the only sounds echoing around the gym were the beats of jogging footsteps and dribbling and ragged breath, and the rhythm soothed them both.

This is just a preview of Chapter 6, if anyone's still reading this story. As I'm writing this, I'm procrastinating studying for finals, so I need to just get it off my mind and whatever. But the rest is coming. And I know that it's been a LONG time coming. I'm sorry. Life got in the way, as per usual. (And is still getting in the way.)