Tyler’s backbone was ruler straight as he leaned against a column just outside of North Shore High School. He wore his soccer jersey, the bold, black number 17 on his back burning against his skin from the heat of a late summer’s sun. Practice had been canceled and it was one of Noah’s free afternoons, so he waited in plain view to surprise him. It was taking him long enough; the bell had rung fifteen minutes ago and most of the busses were starting to leave while the parking lot began to empty.
Tyler slid his phone from his pocket as he felt a buzz.
Lucy [2:14PM]: FUCK Masterson. Tyler [2:15PM]: Context? Lucy [2:15PM]: I have to rewrite my civ essay. Long story. Can I call u? Tyler [2:15PM]: Shit... why? Not rn. Sorry babe. About to meet Noah. Practice was canceled, giving him a ride. I’ll call you tn? Lucy [2:16PM]: Okayy. Tell Sanderson I said hi. Talk later. Lucy [2:16PM]: ❤️ Tyler [2:16PM]: Will do, Lu. Be good. ;) Lucy [2:17PM]: Always am!
He tucked his phone away just as Noah exited the front doors, his backpack hanging over his shoulders as his eyes squinted, adjusting to the bright sun. Tyler stood up, grabbing his bag, and caught Noah’s eyes with a quick wave. He jogged over to meet him halfway.
“Practice was canceled. Guess coach’s mom is sick,” he explained before the other could ask. “Andddd...” This was about when Tyler would insert an idea that wasn’t always smart, safe, or otherwise productive on a school night. “...maybe we can go to the beach?"
