Ross whistled a cheerful tune as he walked into school, his mood visibly lighter than usual.
His head bobbed along to the imaginary beat as though he were the artist behind the song, drawing curious stares from his classmates.
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"You’re unusually happy, Ross. Sothing good happen?" Fatty Dennis asked, his round face scrunched with curiosity.
Ross wasn’t the kind of guy to wear his emotions on his sleeve. Sure, he had his monts, but today was different.
He had been whistling and grinning for a solid fifteen minutes, far longer than his usual fleeting bouts of cheerfulness.
Ross smirked, hands casually stuffed in his pockets. "What? Can’t a guy just be in a good mood?"
Daryl, leaning against the lockers, chid in with a knowing grin. "Let guess—you got yourself a new girl, didn’t you?"
Ross laughed, shaking his head. "You guys are sothing else. Do I need a girl to be happy? I’m perfectly fine on my own, thank you very much." He paused, then shrugged, unable to hide his grin. "But yeah, I did bring another woman into my circle. Hehehe."
Dennis groaned, clutching his chest dramatically. "You’re unbelievable, Ross! A real-life harem in modern tis? I thought that kind of thing only happened in web novels!"
Daryl slapped Dennis on the back. "Maybe he’s the protagonist of his own story. What’s your secret, Ross? Is it the hair? The smile? The wallet?"
Ross shrugged nonchalantly. "It’s all of the above. But you know, you guys could do it too if you stopped doubting yourselves. I heard you’re after that cute cheerleader, Dennis. What’s the status? Did you finally get to fuck her already?"
Dennis’s face turned beet red. "Not yet. I’m not even thinking that far ahead! I just… I just want to know what it’s like to have a girlfriend, you know?" He sighed, a dreamy look crossing his face. "She’s perfect. The way she smiles, her voice—it’s like magic."
Daryl snorted. "Magic, huh? Dennis here dropped a thousand bucks on a necklace for her. You’re not ssing around, are you?"
Ross’s eyebrows shot up. "A thousand bucks? Seriously, Dennis? And she hasn’t even kissed you yet?" He shook his head in mock pity. "If you’re that desperate, I can take you to the red-light district this weekend. You, , and Daryl. We’ll make a night of it."
Dennis waved his hands frantically. "No way! I want my first ti to be special, not… that cheap one night stand." He shook his head vigorously, his chubby cheeks jiggling.
Daryl chuckled, folding his arms. "Sa here. Honestly, I’m not even in a rush. Girls can drive you crazy—and drain your wallet. I’d rather focus on school for now. My family’s finally in a good place. I’m not ssing that up over a fling."
Ross raised an eyebrow. "Oh, co on. What’s life without a little fun?"
Daryl shrugged. "Fun can wait. I bought my parents a house—800 grand, paid in cash. It’s a relief not having a mortgage hanging over their heads anymore. Now, I just want to save what’s left and finish college without any drama."
Dennis blinked in surprise. "Wait, you paid off their house? Dude, you’re like a hero or sothing."
"Or sothing," Daryl replied with a modest grin.
Ross smirked. "Alright, alright, you sound like soone’s grandma, Daryl. But hey, props to you for being the responsible one."
Dennis laughed. "Yeah, Daryl’s the grandma, Ross is the playboy, and I’m the drear. What a team!"
The three of them burst into laughter, their camaraderie lightening the atmosphere as they waited for their teacher to arrive.
The first person to arrive wasn’t their teacher but the large, heavyset Coach Hawkins. His familiar silhouette filled the doorway, and the chatter in the room quieted.
"Ross, soone’s here for you," a classmate said, nudging him.
The comnt drew Ross’s attention, and he turned to see Hawkins standing there, an uncharacteristic seriousness in his expression.
Ross rose from his seat and approached the man, curious but also slightly surprised. Their last conversation has ended up quite nicely in his opinion.
"Coach Hawkins," Ross greeted, keeping his tone neutral.
The coach wasted no ti. "Ross, we need you. Play with the team tomorrow," he said, his voice firm but tinged with desperation. "I don’t care if you don’t play again after that. It’s an important ga—for and for the team."
Ross blinked, montarily caught off guard. He hadn’t expected Hawkins to ask for this, not after their last discussion.
The coach knew his stance. The last ti they’d talked, Ross had been clear: he wasn’t going to play college basketball anymore.
He was already in the NBA.
To him, returning to this level felt like a step backward, a downgrade that didn’t suit his status anymore.
"This…" Ross hesitated, searching for the right words. "Coach, you know I’ve outgrown college basketball. I don’t need it anymore."
Hawkins nodded, his expression tense. "I know, Ross. Believe , I do. But this isn’t just about you. The team—these boys—they look up to you. And tomorrow, we’re up against our school’s greatest rival, Pendle Norton University." His tone grew more insistent, almost pleading.
To anyone familiar with Parkland City, the rivalry between Sunset Hills University and Pendle Norton University needed no explanation.
The two schools were titans, dominating the city’s academic and athletic landscapes.
Their competition spanned generations, a fierce clash of pride and tradition that had lasted for at least five decades.
Every matchup between them was a battle, and tomorrow’s ga was no exception.
"It’s not just a ga, Ross," Hawkins added. "It’s history."
Ross frowned. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. But now?
Playing in this league felt like a waste of ti, especially after signing a max contract with the Parkland Knights.
He hadn’t set foot on the college court since, and for good reason. He was beyond it now.
"Ross, please," Hawkins pressed, his tone softening. "Just this one ga. I’m not asking for anything else. You can play the entire ga—I promise. No substitutions. Just… give it your all one last ti. For the team. For ."
There it was, the raw emotion Ross had been trying to ignore. The desperation in Hawkins’s eyes made it impossible to dismiss him outright.
Ross sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Coach, I… fine. Okay," he finally said, his voice firm but reluctant. "I’ll be there tomorrow."
The coach’s face lit up with relief.
"Thank you, Ross," Hawkins said, gripping his shoulder. "You have no idea what this ans to —and to the team."
Ross nodded, watching as the coach turned and left the room. Tomorrow, he would step onto that court one last ti.
He resolved to make it a ga to rember—a fitting finale for his last dance in college basketball.
***
Huge shoutout and thanks to ddecoen for the gifts!
You are aweso! Thank you! ^_^
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