The first time I noticed him was during gym class when the rest of us were pretending to care about laps and drills He wasn’t like the others who ran just to finish he moved like the air around him bent a little to make room His shoes hit the floor with a rhythm that stuck in my head long after the whistle blew

I wasn’t supposed to be watching I was sitting on the bleachers pretending to tie my shoelaces but really I just wanted an excuse to stay where I could see him His name was Ryan I knew that much from the attendance list but I didn’t know anything else except that he smiled when he missed a shot instead of getting angry

After class everyone scattered but he stayed behind to practice I should have left too but something kept me there The gym lights were too bright and the echo of the ball against the floor filled the whole space like a heartbeat He noticed me eventually leaned on the wall and said you’re still here I said yeah I like the sound of the court He said that’s weird but kind of nice then went back to shooting

The ball rolled toward me once and I picked it up He said toss it back I did but it curved wrong hit the rim and bounced He laughed said close enough and jogged over to get it His laugh was different from most people’s quieter but it carried farther somehow like it knew how to stay in the air

When he finished he sat beside me on the bleachers his hair damp his shirt sticking to his shoulders He said you play any sports I said not really I take pictures sometimes He said like photography I nodded He said maybe you can take some pictures of the team I said maybe if the light’s good He said it’s always good here when people move fast enough

The coach called from the hallway and he stood up said see you around and ran off The sound of his shoes faded but it stayed somewhere in my chest the way some songs do

That night I found myself at my desk scrolling through old photos none of them looked alive not like how he’d moved on the court I wondered if that was what I’d been missing motion not perfection maybe both

The next morning I passed by the gym again the door half open He was there already alone again shooting baskets one after another like the world outside didn’t exist I raised my camera through the crack and snapped a picture The shutter sound was soft but he heard it He turned and caught me His smile was small this time maybe surprised maybe amused He didn’t say anything just pointed at the ball and said your turn

I walked in slowly said I don’t play He said you don’t have to just throw it once I took the ball my hands unsure it felt heavier than I expected I threw it and missed completely He laughed not at me just at the way the ball bounced back faster than it should He said not bad for a first try I said you’re lying He said maybe but lying’s allowed if it makes someone try again

When I left he called after me said bring your camera next time maybe the court looks different when you’re not afraid to move I said maybe it does

I spent the rest of the day thinking about that one line not the way he said it but the way it made me feel like I’d already taken a picture that mattered even if it only existed in my head