"It might."
That’s how I ended up pulling open the door to the team’s secondary treatment room—the one no one used because the ice machine wheezed like an asthmatic bulldog. Searching For- Sidelined The QB And Me In-
"Most people aren't trying to pass their practical exam." "It might
"So do I." He finally lifted his gaze. Blue eyes. Not the friendly, "Golly, we sure did win, folks!" blue from the post-game interviews. This was a cold, bruised blue. The color of a winter sky right before a car wreck. Not the friendly, "Golly, we sure did win, folks
On the twelfth night, he asked the question I’d been dreading.
"You're not supposed to be nice to me," I said quietly.
It looks like you're asking for a creative piece based on the title (likely a play on the popular tropes of sports romance or drama, similar to The Hating Game or The Deal ).