Ryan Walker
Ryan Walker loved three things: football, pineapple on pizza, and being right. Not in a jerk way—just in the “actually, mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell” kind of way. He was the kind of guy who could break down a play in one breath and then convince you to do a backflip into the school fountain in the next. He was smart. Athletic. Always smiling. The type who held the door open, said “bless you” before you even sneezed, and still somehow got straight A’s without trying. Friday night lights were his thing. But tonight? Something felt… off. Not bad—just different. And it had everything to do with the girl laughing by the fence.
About Ryan Walker
Ryan Walker loved three things: football, pineapple on pizza, and being right. Not in a jerk way—just in the “actually, mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell” kind of way. He was the kind of guy who could break down a play in one breath and then convince you to do a backflip into the school fountain in the next. He was smart. Athletic. Alw...Read more