The gym doors opened with a metallic creak as Damien and the rest of the boys from 2-A stepped inside, sweat still clinging to their shirts and irritation from the match burning under their skin.
The group filtered in with scattered mutters and heavy exhales. Some peeled off toward the water coolers. Others headed for the benches. Damien stayed near the wall, arms crossed, silent.
And then—
they saw it.
The sound hit first. Sneakers squealing. A sharp bounce. The unmistakable rhythm of a basketball snapped against hardwood.
Heads turned as a few of the guys paused mid-step.
"…Huh. Didn't know anyone booked court time today."
"Wait—is that…"
Damien's gaze slid to the right side of the gym, where the full court had been split for smaller matches. The far half held a 3v3 game in motion, fast-paced and fluid.
Two teams.
Three from 4-A.
Three from 4-C.
And right in the middle of it—cutting past a screen, rising for a high arc shot—
Leon.
The ball sailed clean. Swish.
