The whistle blew sharp and loud, slicing through the buzzing energy around the court.
Tip-off time.
Brandston stepped up to the center circle, facing Riverside High's tallest dude — a muscle-packed guy who looked like he could bench-press a vending machine.
Stay calm. Focus.
Brandston narrowed his eyes, crouching slightly.
The referee tossed the ball into the air.
BOOM—Brandston timed it perfectly, tapping the ball to Joel, who caught it like he actually knew what he was doing (for once).
Joel immediately passed it back to Brandston, who brought it down the court, weaving between defenders with easy, fluid steps.
From the sidelines, the Lincoln girls' team — including Audrey — started clapping and cheering.
Joel heard them and couldn't resist flexing his (nonexistent) muscles dramatically mid-run.
He almost tripped over himself trying to show off.
Brandston barely held back a laugh.
They set up a play, running smooth passes, and Brandston pulled up for a clean three-pointer.
SWISH.
Straight through the net.
The crowd jumped up, cheering.
Even Coach Davidson threw a fist into the air.
But not everyone was celebrating.
Allan, sitting on the bench (since Brandston beat him for captain), watched with a look like he just drank sour milk.
And oh, he wasn't about to sit there quietly.
When Brandston drove into the lane again, Allan casually "stumbled" onto the court, pretending to pick up a loose water bottle — right in Brandston's path.
Brandston barely twisted out of the way mid-air, still managing to toss a wild pass to Joel, who caught it — by pure luck — and scored a clumsy layup.
The ref blew his whistle hard.
"Bench players! Stay OFF the court unless subbed in!"
Allan threw his hands up, playing innocent.
"My bad, Coach! Just slipped!" he said, fake smiling.
Coach Davidson glared at him, but didn't say more.
Joel ran back down the court, panting and laughing.
"Broooo, you see that? I caught it! Me! MVP incoming!" he yelled toward Brandston.
Brandston just shook his head, smiling a little.
Focus. Keep it moving.
The game went on fast and rough.
Riverside played dirty — lots of elbows, shirt pulling, even stepping on shoes when the refs weren't looking.
But Brandston?
He played like water.
Smooth. Calm. Unstoppable.
He racked up assists, dropped a few more clean shots, even pulled off a slick behind-the-back pass that made the bleachers OOH and AHH.
At one point, Audrey actually stood up from her seat, clapping harder than everyone around her.
(Brandston caught it. Oh, he caught it. 😎)
In the second half, Riverside started getting frustrated.
Their biggest dude tried to body Brandston during a drive — but Brandston spun around him like it was nothing and floated the ball into the hoop.
Another clean two points.
Joel jogged past him, fake wiping a tear from his eye.
"Man...I'm proud of you, son," he joked dramatically, making everyone around them laugh.
Meanwhile, Allan sat stewing on the bench, chewing gum angrily like he was trying to kill it.
He knew it.
Everybody knew it.
Brandston wasn't just "good."
He was better.
Way better.
And no dirty trick could stop that now.
The buzzer sounded for the end of the third quarter.
Lincoln High was winning 58–47.
Coach pulled them into a quick huddle, clapping them on the backs.
"Finish strong, boys!"
Brandston caught his breath, glancing toward the bleachers once more.
Audrey was still watching.
Not just the game.
Watching him.
And Brandston?
For the first time since he set foot at Lincoln High...
He felt seen.