The sound of sneakers squeaking against the gym floor echoed through the walls of Rosehill High's gymnasium. The basketball team was halfway through warm-ups when Coach Daniels blew his whistle, signaling everyone to gather around.
Ryan wiped the sweat from his forehead as he jogged to the center of the court where the rest of the team circled up. Ben landed beside him, breathing heavy but smiling like always.
Coach Daniels stood tall in front of them, clipboard in hand, his whistle hanging around his neck. "Alright, listen up," he said, his voice cutting through the chatter. "I've got news."
The gym went quiet, every player's attention locked in.
"There's a local tournament happening next week," Coach continued. "Four schools, including us. It's bracket-style—win, and you advance. Lose, and you're out."
Ryan felt a flicker of adrenaline in his chest.
Coach Daniels looked around at each of them. "Now I know some of you are new. I know some of you are still finding your rhythm. But I didn't put you on this team to coast through practice. This week, we're training harder. Longer. Smarter. We need to be ready—not just to play, but to compete."
A few murmurs passed between the older players. Carter, still sulking a little after his loss to Ryan and Ben, crossed his arms and muttered something under his breath.
Coach Daniels caught it.
"You got something to say, Carter?"
Carter shook his head. "No, Coach."
Coach narrowed his eyes but moved on. "Good. Because if anyone's going to crack under pressure, now's the time to leave. But if you're here to grow, if you're here to earn your spot every single game, then I'll give you everything I've got. I'll have your back, just like I expect you to have each other's."
Ryan glanced at Ben, who gave a quick nod. They were in.
"Today's focus," Coach continued, "conditioning and defense. Tomorrow, we start running plays. And by Friday, I want to see every one of you fighting like it's game day. Understood?"
"Yes, Coach," the team answered.
The rest of practice was brutal—but in a good way. Drills, laps, defensive shuffles until legs burned and lungs ached. Still, Ryan felt something stir in him. Not frustration. Not anger.
Purpose.
Afterward, as the team collapsed onto the bleachers, Coach walked by, giving Ryan and Ben a nod of quiet approval.
"Not bad, Whitmore. You too, Cartwright."
Ben grinned through his sweat. "That's almost a compliment."
Ryan allowed himself a smirk. "Almost."
Coach Daniels paused near the exit. "You want something real? You show me fire when it matters. That's when I'll know you're ready."
Then he was gone, his footsteps fading into the locker room tunnel.
Ben leaned back against the bench. "Man... this week's gonna be wild."
Ryan looked at the court, already thinking about the tournament.
"Yeah," he said. "But I'm ready."