Imagine a highschool au with varsity player! Caleb x cheerleader non-mc reader.
Imagine the way you weren't misunderstood. You were exactly what people said you were.
Imagine the way you're sharp-tongued. Calculated. A senior who ruled the campus because you refused to be small. Cheer captain, social queen, the girl teachers sighed about and boys warned each other against. You didn't hurt people accidentally, you did it because it worked.
so Imagine when your boyfriend dumped you, you didn't spiral. You adjusted. He did it publicly, thinking humiliation would break you. Instead, you smiled through it, finished the game, and decided you would outgrow him before graduation ever came.
Imagine that was when you noticed who he wouldn't shut up about. That was when you learned his weakness had a name. Caleb Xia.
Imagine he was a freshman. Ace. Golden boy. Purple-eyed prodigy with a laugh that carried across the gym like sunlight. The kind of player people watched warm up just to feel something. The kind of talent that made seniors nervous. The kind your ex pretended not to notice while checking the scoreboards a little too often.
because Imagine everyone knew the truth. If Caleb hadnt been a freshman, the captain's armband would've been his.
and Imagine that was when Caleb Xia became very, very useful. So you stopped researching your ex. You already knew all his tells, all his lies. Instead, you studied Caleb.
and Imagine that was how you found her. MC. Another school. Childhood friend. Always in the pictures. Always just out of frame, like a ghost everyone pretended not to see. She wasn't a girlfriend, not officially but she might as well have been.
Imagine that was how you cornered him. You didn't flirt. You didn"t charm. You sat across from him in the empty cafeteria, legs crossed, phone face-down on the table. "I know about her." You said calmly. "And I know the coach doesn't." His smile didn't drop but his shoulders went tight.
"I don't want anything serious." You continued. "I want a favor." "A fake relationship." He said flatly. You raised a brow. "Smart." "You're doing this to get back at your ex." You shrugged. "Among other things."
Imagine he didn't like you. You knew that. You were everything he'd been warned about. But you were graduating in a few months. And he had too much to lose. So he agreed. And you won.
Imagine the way you held his hand in hallways like it belonged there. Kissed his cheek in front of cameras. Posted just enough to bruise egos and bruise hearts. Your ex burned. MC went silent.
Imagine the way people called you an it couple. And you told yourself it was working.
and Imagine, Caleb played along. Too well, sometimes. That was the problem. You didn't notice when pretending stopped, only that it got harder to remember why you'd started.
Imagine the moment you realized it wasn't just a game came on a random afternoon, when your ex cornered you behind the gym. "I know what you're doing." He said, arms crossed, voice sharp. "You picked him to piss me off." You didn't deny it. You lifted your chin instead. "But." He continued, eyes narrowing. "That's not all it is anymore. I can tell." You scoffed. "You don't know me."
"I do." He said. "And you don't look like you're acting." Then he said the words you never expected. "I want you back."
Imagine the way you laughed, short, automatic. The kind of laugh that used to work on him. But something twisted in your chest. Because the first thought in your head wasn't winning. It was Caleb. The way he waited for you after practice. The way he looked at you like you were something steady. The way he listened.
Imagine that was when it hit you. You didn't tell your ex no because of pride. You told him no because you were already gone. Because the idea of going back made your stomach turn. Because you didn't want to hurt Caleb. And that realization pissed you off.
Imagine the way you started staying late after cheer practice, running drills alone on the field until your legs shook. Across campus, you could hear the echo of basketballs from the gym, Caleb practicing shots, over and over.
Imagine sometimes he'd finish first and sit on the bleachers, watching you without saying anything. "You don't have to kill yourself." He said once. "I know." You replied, breathless. You kept going anyway.
Imagine one night, stretched out on the hood of his car beneath an open sky, he admitted something he probably shouldn't have trusted you with.
"I don't want basketball forever." He said quietly. "I want to be a pilot." He laughed at himself. "Sounds stupid, right?" You didn't tease him. You didn't weaponize it. "I can see it." You said simply. "You flying." He turned to look at you like you'd just undone years of pressure. "You really think so?" "Yeah." You said. "You're steady. You don't panic. You belong up there."
Imagine you didn't tell him you loved the sky too. Didn't tell him you dreamed of flying for a living. Didn't tell him how badly you wanted something bigger than this town. You didn't make things about you. That was how you knew you were screwed. Because you fell. And you hated yourself for it.
Imagine the way you planned to confess after graduation. Not dramatically, not desperately. Just honestly. You owed him that much, even if he hated you for forcing him into the lie.
but Imagine, you never got the chance.
Imagine after the ceremony, you saw him with her. MC. Familiar. Easy. Smiling like she belonged there. And Caleb smiled back. The real one. He saw you then. Froze for half a second.
Imagine you didn't wait. You lifted your hand, smiled like the bitch everyone knew, mouthed goodbye, stickout your tongue and turned away before he could decide what to do.
Imagine he didn't follow. And that was that. No apology. No confession. Just a relationship that started with pressure and ended with restraint. That was how your high school love ended. Just a truth you carried alone.
Imagine you never told him you loved him. But sometimes, when a plane cuts through the sky, you still look up. Pride intact. Heart bruised. Because somewhere above the clouds, you liked to believe he was flying. Because once, when he called his dream silly, you were the one who told him he could take it. And because loving him, quietly and briefly, was the bravest thing you ever did.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2026°
: I have a cold, cough, sore throat and lowkey dying on a foreign country away from home and lowkey crying because it's my cat death aniv soon and I'm just all over the place and I just want to take a sick leave 🫨 (I'm okay guys- coughs*)
