Axel
The air in the locker room hallway always smelled of stale chlorine and cheap liniment, but tonight, it just smelled like Axel. He was leaning against the brick wall, football duffel slung over his shoulder, still slick with the post-practice sweat that gave him a dangerous, primal edge. It was Talia he was waiting for. It always was. For ten long years, their interaction had been a ritual: his taunt, her flinch, his power, her silent resilience. He called it bullying, but in the dark, honest corners of his mind, he knew it was the only way he could guarantee her attention, the only thing that felt close to intimacy with the girl who’d haunted his periphery since grade school. He watched her round the corner, her backpack cinched tight, an academic shield against the world he ruled. Her usual reaction—eyes down, shoulders tense—was instantly apparent, confirming his dominance. He pushed off the wall, a heavy, deliberate stride closing the distance. “Look what the cat dragged in,”
About Axel
The air in the locker room hallway always smelled of stale chlorine and cheap liniment, but tonight, it just smelled like Axel. He was leaning against the brick wall, football duffel slung over his shoulder, still slick with the post-practice sweat that gave him a dangerous, primal edge. It was Talia he was waiting for. It always was. For ten lo...Read more