Brickland High

In the locker room, they were all locked in. Trey sat near the corner, elbows resting on his knees, AirPods in. Drake was playing in his ears, low volume. Nothing hype. Just something to help him think. The nerves were there, quiet but present.

Coach Davenport stood near the whiteboard, arms folded, waiting until everyone settled down.

"Alright," he finally said. "Let's talk tempo." Everyone looked up.

"We push the ball when we can, but we're not running wild out there. Brickland wants chaos. They press sloppy and gamble in the passing lanes. They're athletic, not disciplined. So, we use that against them. Move the ball. Run our sets. Take smart shots. And on defense talk. We're switching on screens unless I say otherwise. You hear me?"

A chorus of "Yes, Coach" filled the room.

He walked over to the board and pointed to the starters, even though he'd already announced them the day before.

"Trey, you're starting at the one. Jamal at two. Jordan at three. Sean at four. Malik, hold it down in the middle."

Trey nodded to himself. He already knew, but hearing it again made it feel real.

Coach paused for a second, then stepped back, letting his eyes pass over each player.

"I don't care what the crowd says. I don't care what happened last year. This team ain't the same team Brickland beat last season. We're smarter. We're tougher. But none of that matters if y'all don't come out and prove it."

He let that sit for a moment.

"Play your role. Lock in. And most of all compete."

The room stayed silent for a beat. Then the claps came, not forced, but real. Not loud focused. "Let's move," Coach said, and they filed out into the hallway.

They stepped into the gym, and it hit Trey all at once.

The smell of hardwood. The bounce of basketballs. The chatter of the crowd. Brickland's bleachers weren't packed, but the student section was loud enough. The students wore all white, trying to intimidate. Others had their phones out already, recording the warmups.

Trey inhaled slow.

He'd been in gyms like this before, but not like this. Not where it counted.

They lined up for warmups. Trey took a ball and dribbled a few times, soft and controlled. His hands weren't shaking, but they didn't feel normal either. He got up a few layups. Hit a midrange. Passed it back to Jamal.

Across the court, Brickland was doing the same. They had on black and blue warmups. One of their guys #4 was already talking loud, hyping up the crowd with some flashy dunks.

Jamal nudged Trey. "That's Tariq Jones. D2 commit."

Trey looked at him. "He the one that's supposed to cook us?"

"We'll see," Jamal said with a shrug.

The buzzer sounded. Teams headed back to the benches. The announcer's voice echoed through the gym.

"Tonight's matchup: The West Newark Hawks… versus the Brickland Bulldogs!"

Names got called one by one.

"Treyvon Knox!"

He jogged out, high-fived his teammates, and stared straight ahead. The lights felt brighter now. Everything was sharper every sound, every movement.

He took his spot at midcourt as the ref held the ball.

Trey didn't blink.

It was time. Tip-off.

The ball went up, and Malik jumped early, barely tipping it to Trey near halfcourt. Trey snatched it in stride and slowed up, motioning for the team to space out. Brickland dropped into a packed-in man defense physical from the jump.

Trey swung it over to Jamal on the right wing. Jamal took one dribble, jabbed, then passed back out. Trey tried to call for a screen from Sean, but before he could get into the set, Brickland's point guard, Kaleb Drew, was all over him hand-checking, bumping his hip.

"C'mon, ref," Trey muttered, waving him off.

They reset. This time, Trey went left, got a step, and dumped it off to Jordan who attacked the lane. Brickland's power forward, Jermaine Rivers, stepped over and bodied Jordan mid-air. The layup bounced off the glass and rimmed out.

"Tough shot, boy!" Jermaine said as Brickland grabbed the rebound.

The Bulldogs pushed it the other way. Kaleb Drew, the PG, darted ahead and passed it to the left wing. Tariq Jones their senior shooting guard and D2 commit caught it clean. Quick dribble. Pull-up. Cash.

"Bang," Tariq smirked as he backpedaled down the court.

Trey kept his face neutral but heard it. He brought it up again, this time using a hesitation and splitting the trap near half. He tried to thread a bounce pass to Malik inside but it was tipped and stolen.

Brickland ran again. Kaleb Drew fed Marcus Hill, their 6'4" small forward, who glided in for a smooth finger roll. 5–0.

Coach Davenport called out, "Settle down! Run the play through!"

Trey nodded, this time calling "Hawk Dive." Sean flashed to the elbow while Jordan set a flex screen for Jamal curling baseline. Trey hit Jamal in stride. Catch. Pull-up from the short corner. Swish.

5–2. That got them on the board.

But Brickland didn't slow down. Kaleb Drew controlled the tempo, and Tariq kept talking.

"You ain't built for this" he said to Trey after drawing a foul on the other end.

They kept pounding the ball inside. Jermaine and Dante Keller, Brickland's strong bodied center, crashed the boards every chance they got. Sean fought hard, Malik too, but it was clear the Bulldogs were more physical.

Coach Davenport clapped hard from the sideline. "Box out! We're giving them too many second chances!"

Trey finally got free off a high ball screen, pulled up from the top of the key missed. Malik snagged the rebound, kicked it back out. Jordan drove, got bumped, no call. Missed again.

Brickland ran the break. Tariq filled the right wing, caught the pass in while moving, and launched a deep three. Wet.

Crowd popped. Trey looked over as Tariq backpedaled again, flashing three fingers.

"Hell yeah" Trey said his first official points of his high school career it finally happened.

Coach Davenport quickly called a timeout. 12–4.

They huddled near the bench, sweat already forming.

"Stop rushing. Take your time, and play your game," Coach barked. "Malik, you got to help off screens earlier. Trey, calm down and run the set. We've been practicing for two weeks you know what to do." Even though two weeks wasn't a lot Coach still expected them to have it down pact.

Back on the floor, the pace stayed rough. Caleb came in for Jamal mid-quarter, giving them some juice off the bench, but the shots weren't falling.

Brickland, meanwhile, played like they'd been here before. Tariq finished the quarter with 9 points. West Newark was struggling.

End of the 1st: Brickland 18, West Newark 9.

Trey sat on the bench, towel over his head. He'd missed two of his first three shots, had a turnover, and just one assist. But it was early. And there were still three quarters left to show what he was really about.