My first and forever

THE DREAM#1

STORM

I’ve been having a rough day.

Like… really rough.

It started the second Summer walked past me before practice without her usual, “Hi, Stormy!”

Nothing.

Not even a glance.

Maybe you’re thinking, Dude, that’s dramatic.

Normally? Sure.

But not when you’ve been hopelessly in love with your childhood best friend for as long as you can remember.

And I mean hopelessly.

I’ve loved that girl since I learned how to color inside the lines.

It’s probably unhealthy at this point.

Summer has always been there. Our parents have been best friends forever, so we practically grew up in the same house. There are baby pictures of us sitting in diapers together, even though she’s four months older than me.

Funny enough, my parents thought I was going to be a girl. They wanted to name me Sunshine. Then I ruined the plan by being born a boy, so they settled on Storm instead—just to match Summer.

Cute story.

Terrible outcome.

Because somewhere along the way, the girl everyone swore was practically my sister became the only girl I’d ever want.

****

Practice finally ended. Coach had spent the last two hours acting like we were preparing for the national championship instead of a regular season game. My body was on the field, but my attention had been somewhere else entirely.

The bleachers. More specifically, Summer. She wasn’t even watching practice. She sat with the other cheerleaders, scrolling through t****k like the game happening twenty yards away wasn’t worth her attention. Typical. Even with her eyes glued to her phone, she somehow managed to be the prettiest person in the stadium. Golden curls spilled over her shoulders, glowing beneath the afternoon sun. Every smile, every laugh, every tiny movement seemed effortless. To everyone else, she was beautiful. To me…She was home.

The second Coach dismissed us, I was already jogging toward her.

She looked up just in time to wrinkle her nose.

“You stink.”

“I prefer ‘you smell like victory.’”

She laughed anyway and wrapped her arms around me.

“You were amazing out there.”

My breath hitched.

It was such a small thing—a hug and a few quiet words—but it hit me like a blindside sack. I could feel the warmth of her body against mine, the faint scent of vanilla shampoo cutting through the sweat clinging to my skin. Without thinking, I hugged her back. Maybe a second longer than a best friend should. “Yeah?” I asked, trying to sound casual. She pulled back just enough to smile at me.

“I watched.”

I blinked.

“I can multitask.” She shrugged. “Besides, watching you get hit was kind entertaining.”

I laughed.

“Oh, so you’re a menace now?”

“A little.”

“Next time I get flattened, I’ll wave first. So you can enjoy it properly.”

She stole the towel from my shoulder before I could stop her.

“Hold still.”

She dabbed at the sweat running down my forehead.

“Seriously?” I laughed. “It’s sweat, Summer.”

She tilted her head.

“That’s…a lot of sweat.”

“I just spent two hours getting chased by guys almost beyond my size.”

“Fair.”

When she leaned closer, I caught the soft scent of vanilla again. She was way too close. Dangerously close. For one stupid second, I forgot how to breathe.

"Come on," he said, tilting his head toward the exit. "Let's get out of here before the guys start making fun of us for standing around talking like we're in a rom-com. I'm starving." He said picking his bag that was beside her and getting his car keys from the side pocket

“I'm driving!” she announced snatching his car keys and bolting away with them

Storm stared at his empty palm for a second, then at her retreating figure. A slow grin spread across his face, dimples deep and sharp.

"Oh, you're dead!" he called out, already breaking into a run after her.

His heavy football bag swung against his side.

"Those are my keys, Summer! I have a very expensive car and a very fragile ego!"

He caught up to her just as she reached the parking lot doors, lunging forward to catch her by the waist. He spun her around, his chest heaving slightly from the sudden sprint, laughing as he looked down at her.

"You're not driving s**t," he said, his voice warm and teasing. He held out his hand, palm up. "Keys. Now. Or I'm telling everyone you're the one who stole Mark's favorite jersey last season."

“You wouldn’t dare,” she growled, “Besides, what are they going to do to me? Spank me?”

Storm stopped mid-laugh, his hand still outstretched for the keys. He stared at her for a beat, his eyebrows shooting up. The air between them shifted-just a fraction, but enough that the playful banter suddenly felt a little too sharp.

"That's not funny," he said, though the grin was still tugging at the corner of his mouth. He stepped closer, invading her space until he was looking down at her, his eyes searching hers.

"You're a menace. You know that, right?"

He didn't let go of her waist. Instead, his grip tightened slightly, pulling her just an inch closer.

"Give me the keys, Summer. I'm not even joking anymore. I'll literally carry you to the car and make you sit in the passenger seat like a toddler." He warned, already reaching for her.Her smile faltered. Just for a heartbeat.

“No.” She said firmly, her eyes in his.

Storm stared at her.

One second.

Two.

"No," he repeated, his voice dropping an octave, quieter now. He didn't move. He just stood there, his hand still resting on her waist, looking down at her with an expression that was somewhere between amusement and genuine disbelief.

"You are so stubborn. Where did you even learn that? From your mom?" He shook his head, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest.

“Fine. You want to play hardball? We'll play hardball."

He didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned down, his face inches from hers, his green eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that wasn't entirely playful anymore. The cool afternoon air swirled around them, carrying the distant sound of other teammates and cheerleaders in the background.

"I'm serious, Summer. Give me the keys." He murmured when he was close enough to her ear.