Page 19

DANIEL

As we enter the arena, the roar of the crowd hits me like a tidal wave. The Pinecrest University gym is packed with spectators, the buzz of excitement almost palpable in the air. The bright overhead lights cast a harsh glare on the polished court, making the hardwood floor gleam under our sneakers. The energy is electric, a mix of nervous anticipation and adrenaline that is impossible to ignore.

We just had a team meeting where Coach and I delivered our final pep talks. It is time to put those words into action. I clap my hands together and address the team one last time. “Give your best!” I announce, my voice cutting through the din of the arena.

The guys nod in response, their faces a mix of determination and nerves. They scatter to their respective positions, moving with practiced ease as they prepare for the game. The pre-game rituals—stretching, shooting practice, and last-minute strategy reviews—are underway. I take a deep breath, letting the energy of the crowd fuel my focus. I take a moment to check on my team, seeing all the familiar faces, their eyes focused and intense, ready to give their all.

I can feel the tension building. The opposing team, the Miami Eagles, is known for their aggressive play and strong defense, and every moment of this game is going to be crucial. I have to stay sharp and lead my team through what promises to be a high-stakes match.

The buzzer sounds, signaling the start of the game. The court is a whirlwind of activity as both teams sprint into action. The ball is tossed in the air for the tip-off, and we are off.

The first few minutes are a blur of fast breaks and intense defense. The opposing team is formidable, their players moving with precision and speed. Our defense has to be on point. I call out instructions, guiding my teammates through the chaos. They score, and the entire crowd boos. It will be disastrous if we lose on our home court. Not only will we be knocked out of the tournament, but also the fact we lost here would bring so much trolling. Not that it affects any of us, because one thing I always suggest to the guys is to focus on efforts, not on results, and it will all work out in the end eventually.

As we continue playing, the pressure mounts. The Miami Eagles are relentless, their players working together like a well-oiled machine. They make another basket, a three-pointer that has the entire court on edge. The crowd’s booing grows louder, the atmosphere becoming more intense as the home team is struggling to keep up.

Seeing the tension on my teammates’ faces, I call out once more, my voice firm but calm. “Stay focused, guys. We’ve got this. Let’s get back on defense and make our comeback.” I can feel the urgency building with every passing minute. The score is slipping away, and we desperately need to regroup. I come face to face with Jayson, the captain of the Miami Eagles. He smirks.

“Seems like you’re struggling, Grayson,” he taunts me. I clench my jaw, but I take the opportunity to snatch the ball from him. I pass it to Louis.

“The game isn’t over,” I bark back, chasing Louis as he sprints to the other side of the court. He leaps and shoots for a three-pointer, and the ball lands in the hoop, making the crowd jump up in excitement.

I look at Jayson, his smug smirk now replaced by a scowl. I can’t help but feel a burst of satisfaction. We are still in this game, and if he underestimates us, that’s good, because then it will be an easy win.

The air crackles with energy, and the crowd is on its feet, cheering louder than before. That’s when I spot her in the front stands, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders.

My heart skips a beat.

She looks gorgeous, as always. She has a wide smile on her face, her eyes on me. As my gaze zeroes in on her, a warm feeling surges through me. She’s here. She came. I can’t help but smile as she gives me a double thumbs-up, her grin radiant. Seeing her there, cheering for me, is like an adrenaline shot that heightens my senses. Her presence alone is enough to make me feel more alive, more focused and energized than ever. There’s no way in hell I am losing in front of her. I pat Louis on the back.

“We’re back in the game, baby,” he exclaims, hugging me. The game picks up speed, and I can feel the momentum shift in our favor. With the crowd now behind us, every pass, every dribble, and every shot feels sharper and more precise. We are moving as one, our teamwork honed from countless hours of practice. The Miami Eagles are good, but they have nothing on the fire that is burning inside us now.

Jayson tries to shake me off, but I stay on him like glue, matching him move for move. The crowd is a blur of color and noise, but I keep my focus razor-sharp. The game clock is ticking down, but instead of panicking, I feel a strange sense of calm wash over me. This is our moment.

Louis gets the ball again, and I can see the determination in his eyes. He is in the zone, and I know he is about to do something special. I move into position, ready to support him, but he doesn’t need it. With a quick fake, he dodges their center and launches a three-pointer from way outside the arc. The ball sails through the air, and for a split second, the whole arena seems to hold its breath.

Swish . The ball goes through the net neatly, and the crowd erupts in a deafening roar. I pump my fist in the air, adrenaline surging through my veins. We are closing the gap, and the Eagles are starting to falter. I can see it on their faces—the doubt, the uncertainty. That’s all I need. This is our game now.

Time is running out, but we are relentless. I steal the ball again—this time off a sloppy pass from Jayson—and sprint down the court. My heart pounds in my chest, but I keep my cool, eyeing the hoop. I can feel the presence of my teammates around me, their energy pushing me forward.

I fake a drive to the basket, drawing their defenders in, then launch for another three. The ball arcs high, then drops straight through the net. The crowd goes wild, and I can hear my teammates shouting in triumph. We are now in the lead, officially. Jayson is desperate now, barking orders at his team, but they are scrambling. I can taste victory, and I am not going to let it slip away. With just seconds left on the clock, the Eagles try to mount one last attack, but our defense is a wall. I intercept their final pass, and the buzzer sounds.

The gym explodes with noise, My teammates gather around me, and it takes me a moment to realize we have won. I look across the court and see Jayson staring at me, his expression a mix of frustration and grudging respect. I give him a nod. He played a good game, but tonight is ours.

My eyes land on Anya once again. Her hair is now in a loose and messy bun. Our eyes meet, and I have this urgent need to hear her voice, look at her closely, and know that I am the reason for her smile.

‘Wait for me,’ I mouth. She twists her face in confusion. I repeat my words. Her eyes narrow down at me. I don’t think I have ever met someone as cute as her. She smiles finally and gives me a thumbs-up.

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