Score: 3 – 2
Jalen in the lead.
The ball was in my hands—
Firm. Solid.
But somehow, it felt like it was burning.
Across from me, Jalen stood with that same stillness—
Not relaxed.
Not tense.
Just ready.
Like a panther waiting for the right moment to pounce.
He didn't need to taunt me.
Didn't need to speak.
His silence was a message.
Behind me, I could hear the faint scuff of shoes, the short breaths of my teammates watching from the sideline.
Lucas Graves (#10)—arms crossed, eyes sharp.
His yellow eyes followed Jalen's every movement.
"He's not even breaking a sweat."
Evan Cooper (#9) leaned forward, whispering,
"Ethan's holding his own. He just needs one more opening."
Josh Turner (#8) cracked his knuckles. "This feels like a damn anime fight. Is this even middle school anymore?"
Ryan Taylor (#11) was silent, chewing his lip.
While Brandon Young (#15) gripped his water bottle so tight the plastic groaned.
