Game Above Game

The early morning fog still clung to the edges of the Ironwood outdoor courts as Jaden dribbled a ball lazily under one hand. The sky was painted in soft hues of orange and purple, and the campus was mostly silent except for the distant hum of lawnmowers and birds waking up.

Jaden wasn't supposed to be here—not yet. Morning practice wasn't for another two hours, but he couldn't sleep. His mind kept replaying yesterday's practice, Coach Hale's stern words, and Tyler's smug grin after stealing that pass.

The ball bounced once, twice, then Jaden launched it toward the hoop. It kissed the backboard and dropped in with a soft swish.

"Nice shot."

The voice startled him slightly, and he turned to see Ava Martinez leaning against the chain-link fence, her camera bag slung across her shoulder and a coffee cup in one hand.

"You stalking me now, Martinez?" Jaden smirked, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Ava stepped onto the court, her boots clicking lightly against the pavement. "Relax, Silk. I've got morning rounds. Besides, you're the one out here brooding before sunrise."

Jaden leaned against the pole holding up the hoop, his arms crossing over his chest. "What, you writing some exposé about the broken spirit of a Pinehill prodigy?"

Ava's sharp hazel eyes locked onto his. "Not everything's a joke, Jaden."

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Ava's expression softened slightly, and she took a sip from her coffee.

"You don't have to prove yourself to everyone all the time, you know," she said quietly.

Jaden let out a small laugh, but there wasn't any humor in it. "That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who everyone's waiting to see fail."

Ava frowned but didn't press further. Instead, she held up her camera. "Smile for the press, superstar."

Jaden smirked faintly, struck a goofy pose, and Ava snapped a photo before turning to leave.

"See you around, Hunter," she said over her shoulder.

Jaden watched her walk away before picking up the ball and starting another round of shots.

---

The Ironwood cafeteria was buzzing with noise by midday. Players sat in their usual corner, loud and unapologetic. Jaden sat across from Tank and Leo, picking at his food while Tank inhaled a mountain of grilled chicken.

"Yo, Silk, you gotta eat, man. You're gonna need energy for Hale's death drills later," Tank said through a mouthful.

Jaden stabbed his fork into a piece of pasta but didn't eat it. His mind was too cluttered.

Across the cafeteria, Tyler Crane sat at another table, surrounded by a group of upperclassmen. He was laughing—loudly, intentionally—and every so often, his eyes would flick toward Jaden.

"He's doing that on purpose," Leo said softly without looking up from his phone.

Jaden's jaw tightened. "Yeah, I know."

Tank glanced over, his expression darkening. "Man, I swear, Tyler's the type of dude to start something just 'cause he's bored."

Before Jaden could respond, Tyler stood up, tray in hand, and started walking toward them.

"Uh-oh," Tank muttered.

Tyler stopped at their table, his eyes locked on Jaden.

"Enjoying your meal, Hunter? Or are you too busy thinking about how I made you look like an amateur yesterday?"

Jaden's grip on his fork tightened. "Walk away, Tyler."

Tyler leaned down slightly, his voice low. "You don't belong here, streetball. You're just a charity case with a flashy mixtape. No real talent. No discipline."

The cafeteria had gone quiet. Jaden felt every eye in the room on them.

Tank started to rise from his seat, but Jaden placed a hand on his chest, stopping him. Slowly, he stood up, now eye-to-eye with Tyler.

"Say whatever you want about me," Jaden said, his voice sharp and cold. "But if you talk about Pinehill again, you and I are gonna have a real problem."

Tyler's smirk widened, but he stepped back. "See you at practice, Hunter."

He walked away, leaving the cafeteria buzzing with whispers.

Tank let out a long breath. "Man, that dude's asking for it."

Leo finally looked up from his phone. "It's not gonna end well."

Jaden sat back down, his heart still pounding in his chest.

---

The afternoon practice session was brutal. Coach Hale had the team running full-court sprints, followed by defensive shuffle drills and passing repetitions.

Jaden pushed through the exhaustion, every movement fueled by frustration. Every time he caught sight of Tyler smirking at him across the court, it was like gasoline thrown onto an open flame.

"Hunter!" Hale barked. "Focus! You wanna show off, do it on your own time. Here, you follow my rules!"

Jaden bit back his frustration and nodded.

By the time Hale blew the final whistle, the entire team was drenched in sweat and gasping for air.

"Locker room!" Hale called. "Five minutes!"

Jaden walked toward the locker room, shoulders hunched, muscles aching.

---

The locker room was alive with the sound of running water, clanging lockers, and tired voices. Jaden sat on the bench, head down, untying his sneakers.

Tyler walked past, still in his jersey, his voice carrying through the humid air.

"Guess mixtape legends don't handle real training too well," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jaden froze, his fists clenching.

"Chill, Silk," Tank said softly from across the bench.

But Tyler wasn't done. "I wonder if your mom's proud of you sitting on the bench while real players handle business."

The room went dead silent.

Jaden's head snapped up. His chair scraped against the tile as he stood.

"What did you just say?" Jaden's voice was low, dangerous.

Tyler smirked. "You heard me."

Jaden closed the distance between them in two steps and shoved Tyler hard in the chest. Tyler stumbled back, but he recovered quickly and lunged forward, shoving Jaden back.

The two collided, fists swinging wildly. Lockers rattled as Jaden landed a punch to Tyler's jaw, and Tyler countered with a shove that sent Jaden crashing into a bench.

"Hey! Break it up!" Ethan's voice cut through the chaos as he and Tank rushed forward, pulling the two apart.

"Enough!" Ethan barked, his face flushed with anger.

Coach Hale's voice thundered from the doorway. "What the hell is going on in here?!"

The team froze. Tyler wiped blood from his split lip, while Jaden's chest heaved with raw fury.

"Both of you—my office. Now!" Hale's voice was sharp as a knife.

No one said a word as Jaden and Tyler walked past Hale, heads down.

The locker room was silent except for the faint dripping of a showerhead in the corner.

Tank sat down heavily on the bench, shaking his head. "This ain't good, man."

Leo spoke softly, barely above a whisper. "No. It's not."

---