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Summary
Josh had to stick to Jalen’s side like fresh gum, had to dig his elbow into his soft ribs, had to shove his hips against him and fight for the ball.
It was part of the game.
And every time he did it, Josh reveled in the annoyed flair of Jalen’s nostrils, his soft, annoyed grunts, the tense in his muscles. Holding back. Schooling his emotions. Break, Josh thought, grabbing a fistful of Jalen’s shorts and holding it to his hip like a petulant middle schooler. C’mon. His lip curled as Jalen looked stonily ahead, one singular traitorous vein popping in his neck. Break.
No matter what, Jalen seemed determined to stay standing.
So naturally, Josh kept pushing.
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toxic jhjb , back at villanova