GREY

My gym locker clanged open as I swung it wide and retrieved my stainless steel sports bottle, chugging down the water inside. I spotted Dash and Brayden as they stalked up behind me, clocking their uncertain stares as Brayden rested an elbow on my shoulder.

"You guys think he'll show?" I gulped, eyes darting between them.

"I hope so," Dash mused. "You didn't think I was too pushy earlier, right?"

"What? Course not, dude." Brayden shook his head.

Dash sighed, hands finding his hips as his gaze fell to the floor. "I don't know, man. I practically shoved my number down his throat."

Brayden sniggered. "Look, Dash. If he was still willing to talk to us after you guys basically stalked him to the hospital last week, I don't think you offering to help with PreCal's gonna set him off."

Dash chuckled, a half-smile splitting the reticence in his eyes. "Yeah, I guess you've got a point there."

Brayden pulled out his phone and started tapping at the screen. "Either of you guys heard from Cody yet? I thought he'd at least be here by now."

I shivered. "Y-yeah, he's pretty much missed the entire day at this point—"

The peal of the locker room door made my head shoot up instantly.

"Duuuude!" Dash bellowed over my shoulder, a wide grin reverberating in his voice as none other than Jacquarious Whelan shuffled inside and lumbered over to the three of us.

"I—I guess this is the locker room, huh?"

I nodded with an eager smile. "Yeah, man. You came to the right place."

"Nice shoes, by the way," Brayden added. "Most of the guys end up having to get a second pair for running; but yours are perfect, bro. Not to mention snazzy."

Jacquarious scratched at the side of his neck. "Um...thanks, man."

"Alright," Dash said, "let's get you upstairs. Coach's got the loaner jerseys in his office."

We turned to head out of the locker room, the three of us forming a triangle around Jacquarious as we climbed the stairs to the gym and raced over to Coach Rangford.

"One loaner jersey please," I said with glee.

Coach Rangford shook his head. "Well, I'll be." He popped a latch on the plastic bin next to him. "What size, kid?"

"Medium," Jacquarious answered. "Thanks, sir."

Coach Rangford tossed him a jersey and crossed his arms. "So, what made you do it, huh? What convinced you to try out?"

Jacquarious looked off. "It was um...these guys." He lifted a shaking hand to place on my back, but he pulled it away before clasping my shoulder.

Guess he's still pretty nervous around us.

"You mean it wasn't my impeccable people skills?" Coach Rangford quirked a brow, chuckling with another shake of his head. "Thought for sure I was getting through to your mom."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Jacquarious rubbed the back of his neck. "It was...kind of a long day. For all of us."

"I bet," Coach said. "Either way, I'm glad you're here now, bud. Today's mostly just pre-tryouts, so why don't you boys line up at the free-throw line and shoot for a bit? Once the rest of the team and all the prospective newbies roll in, we'll get some drills goin'."

Jacquarious nodded once and followed me and the rest of the guys to the rightmost basketball hoop overhanging the floor.

Every now and then, I forgot how massive our gym was—six full courts of polished apricot wood stroked in black, white, and blue. Alternating colors crossed where one sport ended and another began, gridding out a foot-perfect measurement of soccer, badminton, volleyball, pickleball, and—without a doubt—the greatest game in the world.

"I'll be ball boy," Brayden spoke up, running directly under the hoop before overturning a rolling rack of basketballs, dumping them toward us. "Let's see who's got it, bros."

Dash and I lined up next to each other at the free-throw line as we crouched to retrieve some balls, Jacquarious hanging back.

I twisted to him. "Come on, man. It's not a competition if you just sit out the whole time."

"Yeah, dude," Dash urged. "You know Follow the Leader, right?"

Jacquarious gulped. "I...I don't. Sorry, guys."

"Hey, hey, it's okay." I ran over to him, slung an arm over his shoulder. "Basically, you try to match the same number of free throws as the guy in the front of the line. If you beat him, you're the new leader. And whoever gets the least goes to the back of the line."

"Fewest!" Brayden shouted from under the hoop. "Whoever gets the fewest goes to the back of the line."

I shot him a glare.

Brayden giggled. "I miss Cody, alright?"

"Anyway." I turned back to Jacquarious. "If you're at the back of the line twice in a row, you're out. Pretty quick with just three guys, but it gets intense when the whole team's here."

"Okay." Jacquarious nodded. "I think I get it."

"Awesome," I tugged at his shoulder and we both plodded over back to the free-throw line, where Dash stood palming a ball in his hand.

"You boys ready?" he grinned. "No holding back."

I smirked. "Bring it on, Heartless."

Jacquarious gulped. "Heartless?"

I chuckled. "It's Dash's nickname. His last name's Hartley, so—"

SWOOSH! Dash's first shot thwipped against the net as it swirled inside the basketball hoop.

"Nice," Jacquarious mused, Dash grinning before landing another four shots in a row. "He's really good."

"Yeah," I beamed. "Dash's our free-throw specialist."

Two more shots made it inside, but the two that followed fell a bit short. Turning his head to the side, Dash aimed his final ball with his eyes closed, still somehow managing to sink it.

"Tough act to follow," I chuckled, stepping up to take my turn—starting with a miss. Typical, I scowled as I lined up another.

Nine shots later, I was six and four—definitely an okay run, but it still made me look like an amateur next to Dash.

"Don't sweat it, Grey," Dash tried. "Six is still great, man."

I gulped, making a sheepish turn to Jacquarious. "...Your turn, bro." I stepped back as he walked to the line. Man, why does Dash have to be so perfect at this game?

I couldn't help but scowl a little as I twisted to face our captain, flicking my head away in an instant when he returned my stare. Take it easy, Grey. It's a good thing he's so good at—"Whoa." My eyes popped wide the second I looked ahead again.

Standing at the free-throw line, Jacquarious was lining up shot after shot with perfect aim. Body statuesque, form unfaltering, arm craning in precise and flawless sweeps. Three, four, five, six—every ball he threw was swishing the threads of the net, echoing a satisfying thump above all our heads.

Brayden and I stood with mouths agape, Dash crossing his arms as a satisfied grin rode up the side of his jaw. Jacquarious's final shot rode the rim, rolling at its edge before diving through the hoop—a perfect tenth ball to round out the other nine.

"Dude!" I darted to Jacquarious and high-fived him. "You ate that up!"

Dash chuckled as he marched his way over. "Guess I've got some competition." He crossed both arms, smirking. "Seriously, that was incredible."

"...Whoop-de-do." A monotonous slow clap echoed out behind us. "Not like ten free throws in a row's a new world record."

I glanced back over my shoulder. "Cody?"

"Sup, boys." He nodded at Dash and Brayden as he strolled through the double doors at the front of the gym.

"Bro, did you see that?" Dash piped up. "This guy just—"

"Yeah, man. I saw." Cody tilted his head toward Jacquarious. "Technique is solid. Maybe a little too left heavy, but solid." He narrowed both eyes. "Although it's not exactly the same as a real game, you know? No shot you'll get the chance to make ten throws with a team of guys guarding you."

"Well, yeah, but we were just practicing frees, man," Jacquarious said, eyebrows furrowing at Cody's sneering glare.

"Relax, kid," Cody snipped back. "Don't get your panties in a twist."

Kid? He's the same age as the rest of us.

"Dude," Dash stepped in. "Chill, alright? Running free throws was my idea. And let's be real, ten out of ten shots is impressive."

"I never said it wasn't!" Cody barked, scowling at Dash before bending his head back to Jacquarious. "And if you're really so good at sinking shots, how about we amp things up a little?" He slid an arm around Dash's shoulder, yanked him closer.

I bent toward him. "Uh, Cody, what're you doing?"

"Two minutes, double guard, five shots—me and the captain versus our new recruit here."

I took a step back. "Dude, what? None of the other prospectives are even here yet, and you're running double-guard drills? Jacquarious is still new, man!"

"Jacquarious," Cody droned, "sank ten free shots in a row." His eyes narrowed. "So let's see how he plays under pressure. After all, can't afford to have some wimp on the team who caves when the floor gets a little too crowded."

"But...but that's not fair! In a real game, there's no way two guys would—"

"Sounds good to me," Jacquarious said, the tiniest of smirks flashing across his face. "Back at Browning, the only regulation we play is get the ball in the net."

"Then you're on, man." Dash shrugged off Cody's arm and stepped forward. "Let's see what you got."