The final horn was the best sound I'd ever heard. A screaming confirmation that 32 points of pure vengeance were finally on the scoreboard. While the rest of the guys went feral, screaming and hugging, I stayed rooted to the spot, just breathing in the silence of the defeated Victory crowd, the joy of walking-the-talk. The job was done.
My eyes went to the VIP stands. Searching for Tephnine and Seraphina. Tephnine looked proud and Seraphina looked distanced. I was savouring the taste of this victory, that is, until Jensen decided to add vinegar to it.
He didn't celebrate, didn't look at the trophy table, didn't even acknowledge me. He walked straight toward the VIP section, laser eyes focused on it.
What the hell is this imperfect idiot doing?
He stopped right below the rail, forcing the whole school to focus on him
Jensen: Seraphina!. You watched the whole thing. What did you think?
Ohhhh, now I understand, he's trying to be petty, I love my captain.
Mr. Okoro started to bark at him, but Seraphina silenced her father with a gesture. She looked down at Jensen, a tiny, infuriatingly genuine smile touched her lips.
Seraphina: You played well, Jensen. All of you. You definitely proved that you are capable of shocking the world.
Shocking the world? We just beat you by thirty-two points! That's it?.
Jensen: That's not what I'm talking about. Keima said something last night. He said you only spoke to me with some sort of soothing voice.
Seraphina's face went crimson. This robot is capable of showing such emotions?. And what the hell is Jensen saying?.
Seraphina: My voice?, what does that have to do with anything?. I thought we were talking about the match.
Jensen: It has everything to do with it. You saw what we did to your team. We broke them down, and you still smiled at me. You still dropped the façade. Seraphina, I'm tired of playing to the scoreboards. If you still have feelings for me, if you really do. I want us to go on with the relationship. Right here, Right now.
The guts of that idiot. To lay it all out like that, after I promised war. I expected her to verbally dismantle him right there.
Seraphina: (Her voice was all shaky) You are unbelievable!, You humiliate my team, my father is sitting right here, and you...
She couldn't finish. She looked at him, then at her furious father, then back at Jensen. The logic was gone. What the fuck am I even experiencing. The sharp mouthed ringleader, was just a girl in love.
Seraphina: (getting more shaky) I love you, you idiot. Yes. Of course, I love you.
A stunned, horrified silence fell over the VIP box. Mr. Okoro looked ready to have a stroke, his neck was turning the same shade of crimson as his daughter's blush. Mr. White West watched the whole thing, then placed a hand on his rival's shoulder and whispered something.
I didn't hear what he said, but I watched as Seraphina pushed past her father and hurried down the steps. She didn't look at the scoreboard, didn't look at her coach, didn't look at anything but Jensen.
What in the Bollywood love is this?. Jensen just turned our intense match into a cheap K-Drama plot twist.
THREE DAYS ON****
We should have been back at our school by now but instead, I was trapped in a starched suit, standing on a neutral floor at a downtown hotel for what the Mr white called a "Sportsmanship and Unity Luncheon." The fuck is that?. According to Jensen, after every charity match both parties take pictures together and hug things out and send the money they made to three different charity organisations. Things like that. My question though, what does that have to do with me. I just wanna go back to school.
Our delegation was somehow small. Mr. White West, Jensen, me, Jace and coach. Jensen was unsurprisingly composed, he always had that captain aura when it came to things like this. He was dressed like a model forced to do hoops, he was just perfect.
The Victory Academy delegation arrived, Mr Okoro walked in, flanked by their defeated Coach and, of course, Seraphina, with Marcus and a random dude.
Mr. Okoro's eyes locked onto Jensen, and it was worse than any angry shout. He didn't look mad, he looked like he was watching a cockroach contaminate expensive food. He deliberately walked past Jensen without acknowledging him, pulling Seraphina close to his side.
Okay. This isn't just about basketball anymore. Not like I didn't expect it.
I watched Seraphina. She was wearing a dress that looked like it cost more than an average student's year tuition, but her composure was failing. When she passed us, she kept her head down, but I saw her right hand, the one usually holding a pen or aggressively pointing, clench at her side.
Jensen stepped forward slightly, but I grabbed his sleeve, holding him back.
Me: (Hissing under my breath) Don't. Not here. Just read the room.
Jensen: (Eyes glued to Seraphina) Her father won't even look at me.
Me: He doesn't have to, he's letting his silence speak volume.
We were directed to a long rectangular table were we were forced to sit directly opposite the Victory Academy contingent. It was a setup designed for maximum passive aggression. And reporters were all around us, throwing flashes from every angle.
Mr. Okoro spent the first five minutes lecturing the Victory Coach about operational deficiencies, he kept saying things in a calm way but I'm certain he was masking his true intentions. Seraphina was stone-faced, staring at the floral centerpiece.
Then, she looked up. Her eyes found Jensen, and in that crowded room, with sponsors and cameras clicking, they had a conversation that was clearer than any text message.
Her eyes were pleading, worried. Jensen gave a barely perceptible shake of his head, 'I'm okay'. But she was signaling something else.
Seraphina quickly adjusted her pearl bracelet, and as she did, her fingers briefly traced a pattern on the tabletop, quickly wiping it away. It was four short taps, a pause, then three long taps.
What the hell was that?, Morse code?. Mahn these guys don't want me eavesdropping or what?.
Jensen shifted slightly, placing his napkin on his lap. It wasn't a signal, it was an acknowledgment.
I just watched them exchange encrypted military intelligence over a bread basket.
Suddenly, Mr. Okoro cleared his throat, directing his voice across the table, not at the Captain, but straight at Mr. White West.
Mr. Okoro: White, I hope you enjoyed your spectacular victory. It will be the last one you see for a long time. I have spoken with the League about several procedural concerns regarding scheduling for the remainder of this season. We need to ensure that the best teams aren't unfairly burdened by constant travel.
It was a thinly veiled threat. He wasn't talking about "fairness", he was talking about using his influence to stack our schedule with brutal, back-to-back road games as payback, does he even have that much influence?. For you to understand that question. Starling belongs to the wester division, victory is all the way at the Eastern division.
Jensen at this moment tensed, ready to leap to the defense, but I knew the only person who could counter this wasn't the captain, it was the friend.
Me: (Leaning forward, giving Mr. Okoro my most innocent, charming smile) Mr. Okoro, that's such a generous concern. We love travel. Especially if we get to stay in fancy places. It'll just serve as more time for our captain and his girlfriend to catch up.
Mr. Okoro's face froze, stuck between fury and public propriety. Seraphina's head snapped up, her eyes wide.
There we go, fuel to fire, the reaction I want. The room went silent. I could feel the heat radiating off Mr. Okoro's face after I used his daughter and my best friend as a public shield. Perfect. His fury was stuck, trapped by the flashing cameras.
But Mr. Okoro is not just a rich dad, he's a politician. He immediately found his voice, and it was devastatingly calm.
Mr. Okoro: (Directing his gaze past Jensen, right to me) It's understandable that Mr. West allows his star players to speak out of turn. But before you speak for the honor of starling, young man, you should ensure your own allegiances are secured.
I felt a sudden, cold dread in my stomach. No. He wouldn't dare.
Mr. Okoro continued, his eyes locked on mine, his voice carrying just loud enough to cut through the hum of the room.
Mr. Okoro: Because, Mr. Keima, only two days ago, I was generous enough to offer you a spot at Victory Academy. I offered you the best resources, the best education, and the best life. We discussed it at length, didn't we?. And you were still considering the offer. Someone who stands here right now demanding honour from others shouldn't be speaking when he has yet to commit his own future.
The silence that followed was different. It wasn't political, it was personal and heavy. I could hear every intake of breath around our table.
I risked a glance at Mr. White West. He was stunned, his mouth slightly open, confusion warring with shock. Coach's jaw was tight, his disappointment a visible wound. Jensen looked less angry and more hurt, his eyes wide as he looked at me, the idiot he trusted, who now looked like a traitor.
My God. He exposed me. He knows I haven't told anyone. I knew I was considering the offer for pragmatic reasons, the 'best life', but now it just looked like betrayal.
Mr. Okoro leaned back, a cold, satisfied smirk on his face. He had effectively poisoned my victory and isolated me from my team in a single, devastating move. Let's cap this well
ABOUT TWO DAYS AGO****
It was almost 8:00 PM, and I was starving. I pulled on a hoodie, ignoring the Victory Academy banner hanging limply in the hallway, and set out to find their cafeteria, when I get hungry, I let my stomach make decisions for me. I was halfway down the long, empty corridor when a large man in a dark suit materialized near the exit. He was clearly a bodyguard, not a student.
The man stepped into my path.
Really huge man: Mr. Keima?.
Did I just get busted by security?. Damn, they'll think I'm something of a thief.
Me: That's me. I'm sorry for walking about this late. I'm just looking for something to eat.
Really huge man: (smiling slightly) Mr. Okoro would like a word. He's in his private office. Please Follow me.
I considered refusing, but who would say no to someone as big as this. I followed the guard up two flights of stairs and into a spacious, wood-paneled office that smelled like money and old books.
Mr. Okoro was sitting at a massive desk, looking relaxed, like he hadn't just watched his team get humiliated. He gestured to a leather armchair. A luxurious leather armchair I must add.
Mr. Okoro: Thank you for coming, Keima. Please, sit. Ignore my security, I've had a difficult evening, and one must be prepared.
I sat, leaning back slightly.
Me: If you're going to complain about the 32-point margin, or even about the whole dying minute drama, I'll suggest you take it up with your rival.
Mr. Okoro: (waving a dismissive hand) The game is over. That was a fine tactical win. But I'm not here to talk about basketball. I'm here to talk about life.
With this He leaned forward, his voice softening into a compelling, casual sincerity.
Mr Okoro: You're a brilliant kid, Keima. You're wasted arguing with your coach and carrying that over-good-looking Captain of yours. You're holding yourself back for loyalty.
Me: well, that's because I love my team.
Mr Okoro: Of course you do. But friendship doesn't pay for your college education, does it?.
Me: except we pay a minimum of 7 million naira a year for tuition. If I was doing this for money i won't be at starling.
Mr Okoro: keima my boy, My daughter, Seraphina, is sharp. She sees things logically. She sees your potential.
Saying this He pulled a thin file out of his desk drawer and slid it toward me. It wasn't formal or heavy, it was just a summary sheet.
Mr. Okoro: I'm offering you a place here, Keima. A full, comprehensive scholarship. Forget the chaos of Starling Strike. Here, you will not be stressed intellectually. You'll be financially secured, and put on the fast track to the best universities. We have dedicated programs specifically for exceptional minds, things Starling can't even dream of providing. Fine you say you already have the money, I'm giving you more than that I'm giving you a whole school.
He spoke softly, like a cool uncle giving advice, not a rival headmaster.
Mr Okoro: You belong with the best, Keima. You belong with us. You leave there, you secure your future. No more struggling. You can stop being the best friend and start being the best version of yourself.
The offer was simple, clean, and terrifyingly logical. It wasn't about the money, it was about the opportunity. The chance to stop wrestling with basic academics and finally use my full intelligence to focus on shooting. To be the top dog.
Me: You're asking me to walk away from my team?.
Mr Okoro: it was never your team. And I'm not asking you to do that. I'm asking you to walk toward your future. Look, you've seen what happens. Loyalty is expensive. Starling Strike will always ask you to put their needs first. We will ask you to put your needs first. ( Standing up ) Take the paper, read the details. Get back to me in a couple of days. You don't have to decide now.
I grabbed the summary sheet. It felt warm in my hand. I walked out, nodding once to the bodyguard. I hadn't agreed to anything, but the simple, casual conversation had done more damage than any political threat. It had exposed the price of my loyalty, and for two days, I had kept that secret, terrified of what I might choose.
BACK TO WHERE WE WERE ****
Mr. Okoro: When you finally decide where you belong, Mr. Keima, then perhaps you can speak about Captain Jensen's relationships. Don't you think?
My heart hammered against my ribs. He had attacked my one true axis, my relationship with the team.
To at least try to smooth things down a bit, I slammed my palm flat on the table, ignoring the flash of the reporters' cameras, ignoring Jensen's shocked face. I looked straight at Mr. Okoro.
Me: You're right sir. We did speak. You offered me the granite countertops, the gold-plated future, and everything you think money could buy.
I paused, looking at my team, meeting Jensen's gaze, then Coach's, then back at the smug headmaster.
Me: But the reason I haven't gotten back to you isn't because I'm considering it. It's because your offer proves everything I already knew, Victory Academy will only ever be a good team if it buys its best players. We don't buy talent here. We build it, we earn it, and we trust it. (I stood up, pushing my chair back sharply) I already have the best life, Mr. Okoro. I have a team that fights, a coach who guides, and a captain I trust. You offered me a new home, but you need to realise that you can't buy family and that's what starling offered me.
I looked at Jensen, giving him a tight, honest smile.
Me: I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys about the offer. It's a mistake I own. But my loyalty isn't for sale, and it's certainly not moving to the losing side.
With this the room stunned into silence again, I grabbed my coat.
Me: Mr. West, Coach. I'll meet you all outside. I've suddenly lost my appetite for bad company.
I walked out, leaving the stunned silence and the flashing lights behind me. I knew my apology to the team was short, but the message was delivered.
I shoved the hotel door open and hit the pavement, pulling off the choking suit jacket. My blood was still roaring from the confrontation, but the feeling wasn't triumph, it was restlessness. I'd chosen loyalty, but the cost was a gaping hole in my inner circle.
I just called the Head of Victory Academy a buyer of talent in front of every media outlet there. I just admitted to the whole team that I was almost bought off. And I did it all without talking to the one person who should have known.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, my fingers flying to Tephnine's contact. I needed to hear her voice, not just to apologize, but to confirm that the 'Starling Strike family', was still whole.
I hit call. It rang twice. Then, it went straight to voicemail.
I tried again, pacing quickly back and forth along the sidewalk. "She's busy. She's with the other students. She's talking to her team members for the baticadious.". I knew a hundred logical reasons why she wouldn't pick up, but the one that stuck was the most painful and obvious one, 'She was ignoring me'.
I stopped pacing, clutching the phone. Did I ruin everything?. Did I burn the Victory bridge only to torch the Starling one too?. The promise of the easy life Mr. Okoro offered has come to destroy the already enjoyable life I had at starling.
A text notification flashed across my screen. Not Tephnine. It was Jensen.
Jensen: Don't panic. T's busy. Her phone's on silent.
I knew he was lying. He's still inside, how would he know I've been trying to reach Tephnine. Moreover Tephnine's phone has never been on silent. She was giving me the silent treatment, letting me stew in the consequences of my actions.
I slid the phone back in my pocket, forced myself to lean against the cold stone of the building, and waited for the axe to fall. The adrenaline crash was brutal. I just needed to survive the next few minutes until Jensen and the team finish their update.
Now It's been nothing but 15 minutes of Jensen pacing while talking to Tephnine. The high of confronting Mr. Okoro was gone, replaced by the dread of talking to my girlfriend.
Jensen finally dropped the phone from his ear, his face serious. He walked over and wordlessly handed me his phone.
Jensen: She said she'd take the call, but she's not happy. She said you messed up big time, Keima. She heard the whole thing,the offer, the lie, and the public fight.
I took the phone, bringing it to my ear. I could hear the sharp inhale on the other end. No background noise this time. She was focused entirely on me.
Tephnine: Keima. Explain why you lied to me.
Me: look T, I am so sorry. I should have told you. When Okoro offered me that scholarship, it wasn't about the money. It was about an easy way out.
Tephnine: An easy way out of what?, Life?.
Me: An easy way out of having to work my ass off. You know how much effort it takes me to keep up with Starling's educational expectations while juggling the team and the travel. Mr Okoro offered me a life where the path was clear, paved, and guaranteed. He offered me a chance to succeed without having to constantly push myself to a breaking point.
Tephnine: So you were willing to leave all of us, your best friends, your team, your coach, because you were lazy?.
Her voice was laced with disbelief and pain.
Me: It was tempting, T. I was terrified I might actually take it. I kept the secret because I was genuinely fighting with myself. I didn't want to choose the safe, easy option, but it was sitting right there.
Tephnine: That is not my problem, Keima. My problem is that you let the head of the rival academy dangle your future in front of you for two days, and I had to hear about it from the man trying to hurt my twin brother!?. We share a bed together. We share our meals together. We've talked about our future, and you couldn't share something as serious as this with me?.
Her voice rose, raw with more hurt and more pain. Tephnine: You publicly said you chose 'family' and 'trust,' but you kept the biggest secret of your academic life from the person who sleeps next to you. That's not loyalty, Keima. That's arrogance. You chose to manage the crisis alone.
Me: T, please. I messed up, I know. But I chose Starling. I chose you. I burned the bridge with Mr Okoro for good. Doesn't that count for something?
Tephnine: Right now, it counts for nothing. You proved that when you are under serious pressure, I am a liability you protect, not a partner you trust.
There was a heavy pause, filled only with the sound of her frustrated breathing.
Tephnine: Don't call me back. I will contact my father and get the details on the schedule threat. You just keep breathing, Keima. I'll handle the planning.
Click!.
The line went dead. I stared at the disconnected phone in my hand. Jensen was right. She was furious. She hung up, refusing to offer any forgiveness, leaving the massive weight of her anger hanging over me.
Jensen: (taking his phone back) Well?. What did I tell you?. She's scary when she's mad.
Keima: She's not mad, Captain. She's hurt. And I am the cause.
TO BE CONTINUED****