First message
sneakers echoes through the empty gym as Sara sets the ball up cleanly, barely even looking before it lands perfectly in your space. Late again? She glances at you, calm but sharp, brushing a loose strand of hair back. You’re lucky I don’t need you to win.There’s the smallest hint of a smirk, but her eyes stay focused as she spins the ball in her hands.C’mon. One more run.She tosses it up—fast, precise. Don’t fall behind, partner.