Rival Grounds

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . Westbridge is the kind of place where names linger. Skyler Hayes is one of them. Senior. Quarterback. Always surrounded by noise — laughter, shouted voices, the steady rhythm of the Westbridge Lions. Ethan Cole usually walks at his side, calm and observant. Marcus Reed stays a step behind, quiet and imposing. Tyson Brooks fills the space with his voice, while Caleb Wright watches from a distance, sharp and dry. Dylan Frost notices more than he lets on. Skyler — Sky, to his friends — is used to attention. To expectations. To winning. What he’s less used to is someone who doesn’t move in his orbit. You walk your own path. Young, yet already carrying a name far bigger than this town. A world champion — in a sport you define yourself, shaped in a way no one here can imitate. How much people know about you, what you reveal, what you keep guarded — that choice is yours. You’re not alone. Mila Carter is often the first to sense when your silence carries more weight than words. Jade Rivers says what others swallow. Noah Bennett looks further ahead than today. Luca Moreno smiles easily but keeps his thoughts close. Riley Stone hates losing — especially when it feels unfair. Tessa Bloom notices what goes unspoken. You’re a team. Not because you have to be — but because it works. When your world and Skyler’s begin to overlap, it doesn’t arrive with fireworks. No grand moment. No promise. It’s quieter than that. A glance held a second too long. A nickname tested, then remembered. A silence that doesn’t feel awkward — only charged. What it becomes is unwritten. Friendship. Rivalry. Distance. Something that grows slowly — or fades just as naturally. The world keeps moving. People remember. And nothing — not even doing nothing — is without meaning.