My Enemy [BL]
The scoreboard didn’t lie, and every missed shot sent another wave of groans through the crowd.
Millie appeared beside me halfway through the second quarter, balancing two hot dogs and a cup of soda. She plopped down dramatically, handing one to me before taking a huge bite of her own. "Boy," she said with her mouth full, "they are terrible tonight. I’ve seen middle schoolers play with better teamwork."
I groaned, taking the soda and forcing a small sip. "It’s Rowan," I muttered. "He won’t pass to Frank. It’s like he’s trying to make them lose."