The bus rolled to a stop outside the City Arena, its windows fogged from the cold morning air. The moment the doors opened, a wave of noise hit them, the sound of a packed arena alive with music, chatter, and the echo of basketballs bouncing on hardwood.
Jaden stepped off first, the Ironwood duffel slung over his shoulder. The stadium lights reflected off the polished glass facade of the building, and even from the parking lot, he could feel the pulse of the place. This wasn't a regular game. This was a stage.
Tyler followed, earbuds in, face unreadable. Tank's booming laugh echoed behind them as he cracked open a bottle of water. Ethan adjusted his wrist tape, calm as ever. Coach Hale was the last to step off, hands in his coat pockets, his expression steady.
"Eyes forward," Hale said as they walked toward the entrance. "This isn't a field trip. You earned this shot. Now prove you belong here."
Inside, the hallways were lined with banners from every major program in the district. Cameras flashed as reporters passed by, snapping photos of players and coaches. Jaden caught sight of one camera crew tracking Southpoint Academy's team as they entered from the opposite side of the hall.
Ray Hale walked at the center of the group, calm and composed in his navy warmup suit. Their eyes met briefly. Ray gave a small nod, not a taunt, not a smile, just acknowledgment.
Jaden nodded back. No words. No trash talk. Not yet.
---
The Ironwood locker room hummed with tension. Sneakers squeaked against the tile as players warmed up in silence. Tank sat on the bench lacing his shoes tight while Ethan flipped through the playbook, eyes scanning Hale's notes.
Coach Hale stood by the whiteboard, marker in hand. "You already know who's watching today. Scouts, coaches, recruiters. But don't play for them. Play for each other. Discipline wins games. Effort wins respect."
He looked at Jaden. "Hunter, set the tone."
Jaden nodded. "We got this, Coach."
When Hale left the room for the pregame check-in, Tyler leaned against his locker, glancing over at Jaden. "You ready for this?"
Jaden smirked. "Man, I was born ready. I been hoopin' in worse places than this. Ain't nothin' new."
Tank laughed. "Yeah, but the last gym you played in didn't have a hundred cameras pointed at you."
Jaden shrugged. "Then they better catch the good angles."
Even Tyler cracked a small grin. For a brief moment, the tension eased.
Then the announcement echoed through the locker room speakers. "Ironwood Hawks to the court."
---
The roar of the crowd hit them the second they stepped through the tunnel. The court gleamed under bright arena lights, banners and sponsor logos flashing across the jumbotron. Student sections from every school filled the stands, waving flags and chanting.
Ironwood's fans were outnumbered, but their cheers were the loudest.
Jaden walked to midcourt, eyes scanning the polished floor. He could feel every vibration of the drums, every cheer from the bleachers. Across from him, Southpoint was already warming up. Ray Hale dribbled near the sideline, smooth and efficient, while his teammates executed crisp passing drills like clockwork.
"Showtime," Ethan murmured beside him.
Coach Hale called the team into a circle. "Listen close. The Showcase isn't about flash. It's about control. Southpoint plays clean, no wasted motion. We break their rhythm by playing our game. Trust your spacing, talk on defense, and hit the boards. They make one mistake, we make them pay."
Tank grinned. "You heard the man. Time to eat."
The referee signaled for teams to line up.
---
The crowd quieted as the players took their positions for the opening tip. The air was thick with anticipation, every sound amplified, the bounce of the ball, the squeak of shoes, the deep inhale before the jump.
Ethan crouched at center court, eyes locked on Southpoint's big man. Jaden stood just behind him, knees bent, palms out, ready for whatever came next.
The whistle blew.
The ball shot into the air.
Ethan leapt first, his hand grazing the ball, tipping it backward. Jaden caught it clean and pushed forward, his shoes slicing across the court.
The crowd came alive in an instant.
Southpoint's defense moved fast, closing gaps and cutting off passing lanes. Jaden drove left, then pulled back, reading the floor. Tyler sprinted to the corner. Tank sealed off a defender in the paint. Ethan slipped behind a screen.
Jaden saw it, a split-second opening. He crossed right, then spun back left, his body low and balanced. Ray Hale was already there, sliding perfectly into position.
"Too slow, Hunter," Ray said, calm and measured.
"Watch and learn," Jaden replied, planting his foot. He faked the pass, stepped through, and floated the ball high off the glass. It dropped through the net with a clean swish.
The Ironwood section erupted.
Ray caught the inbound, his face as calm as ever. He moved up the court like a conductor leading an orchestra, smooth, deliberate, precise. He passed, cut, received the ball again, and hit a quick midrange jumper before Ironwood could even rotate.
The crowd roared again, half for the shot, half for the rivalry that was already sparking.
---
The first quarter was a duel. Both teams traded baskets with surgical efficiency. Every drive, every rotation, every rebound felt like it mattered. Tyler sank a corner three off Jaden's assist. Southpoint answered with a fast-break layup. Ethan blocked a jumper at the rim, sending Ironwood's bench to its feet.
When the buzzer sounded, the score read 18 to 17, Ironwood by one.
Coach Hale met them at the bench, his voice steady over the noise. "Good start. Don't get comfortable. Southpoint doesn't make mistakes twice."
Jaden nodded, wiping sweat from his face. His heart pounded, not from fear, but from rhythm. The game felt alive under his skin. The crowd, the lights, the pressure, he fed on it.
Tyler leaned in, voice low. "They ain't ready for us tonight."
Jaden grinned. "Then let's make sure they never are."
The horn sounded again, echoing through the arena.
The second quarter was about to begin.