The local park court was empty by the time the sun started its descent toward the horizon. Darius had been there for two hours, working through drills that had become as automatic as breathing. Connor's words were still echoing in his head, pushing him harder with every drill cycle.
Everyone in second string was exactly where he was. Everyone was fighting for the same thing. And if he stopped working, if he let up for even a moment, someone would take his spot.
Sweat dripped down his face as he went through another set of shooting drills, his form perfect despite his exhaustion. The ball arced through the air, rotated with precision, dropped through the net. Again. Again. Again.
"Yo, you don't always have to train this hard for basketball, man." Malik's voice came from behind him, carrying that mix of concern and humor that had been missing lately.
Darius caught the ball and turned to see his cousin leaning against the fence, watching him work.
"Ball is my life," Darius shot back with a grin, but there was something genuine underneath the joke. He grabbed his towel and walked over to where Malik was standing, dropping down onto the grass next to the fence.
They sat in silence for a moment, watching the sun paint the sky in shades of orange and purple. It was the kind of moment that felt rare lately, just the two of them without tension hanging between them.
"You know what's crazy?" Malik said eventually, his eyes still on the horizon. "We used to be different when we were younger. Like, we were actually close. We'd do everything together. You'd help me with my homework, I'd make fun of you for not being able to shoot free throws." He laughed softly at the memory. "We had a whole thing going."
Darius nodded, remembering those days. Before the coma. Before everything changed.
"I know people change and all that," Malik continued, his voice getting quieter. "That's just how life works. But when you were in the coma, man, I made this promise to myself. I prayed to God every single night that if you woke up, I'd spend all my time with you. Like, I was gonna make up for the time we lost, you know?"
He paused, and Darius could see something working in his cousin's jaw.
"And then you woke up, and for a little while, it was like that. We were close again. But then basketball started taking more and more of you, and I kept telling myself it was cool, you were doing your thing, pursuing your dream. But then..." Malik's voice trailed off. "You kind of just pushed me away. Even when I tried to join in with you, even when I was training with you, I could feel you pulling back. Like I wasn't... I don't know, important anymore or something."
"Malik, I didn't—" Darius started, but his cousin cut him off with a shake of his head.
"Nah, I'm not blaming you for it," Malik said quickly. "I get it. You were focused on your goals and all that. I'm just saying it happened, you know? And it hurt."
Malik looked like he wanted to say something else, his mouth opening and closing, his eyes searching for words that wouldn't quite come. There was something deeper there, something he was wrestling with whether to share or keep locked inside.
Darius could read it on his face. The hesitation. The fear. The weight of whatever he was holding back.
"What?" Darius asked gently. "What else is there?"
Malik shook his head, that wall coming back up. "Nah, it's nothing."
"Man, don't do that. Say it."
But Malik wasn't going there. Darius could see him making the decision, could watch as his cousin pulled back from the edge of whatever confession was waiting.
So Darius did what he usually did when things got too heavy. He cracked a joke.
"Yo, but real talk though, you think if I hadn't been in a coma, would you have still been this clingy? Like, you probably just missed having someone to complain to about your day," Darius said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood before they both drowned in whatever was sitting between them.
Malik's face shifted, a laugh breaking through the tension. "Man, shut up. You know that's not how it works."
"Nah but for real though," Malik continued, that humor bleeding back into his voice. "I'm still tripping on how different you became after the coma. Like, you literally became a completely different person. Before you were funny, chill, just a regular dude. Now you're like... basketball incarnate. Like you got possessed or something."
Darius laughed, shaking his head. "I ain't possessed. I'm just focused."
"That's what I mean," Malik said, standing up and offering his cousin a hand to help him up. "It's wild, man. But you know what? I prefer this version of you over the other way around. At least now I know you're really about something."
They walked home as the last light drained from the sky, their conversation shifting into lighter territory. By the time they got to the house, they were both laughing about something stupid that Malik had said about one of their neighbors.
Dinner was loud and chaotic in the best way. Their mom kept passing dishes around, their dad was making terrible jokes, their little sisters were arguing about something that didn't matter. It felt like everything had returned to normal, like the distance that had been growing between Darius and Malik had been put on pause.
"Darius, don't forget you have your monthly checkup tomorrow with Dr. Chen," his mom said between bites of food. "We need to make sure everything's still healing properly with your recovery."
Darius groaned. "Do I have to? I feel fine."
"The answer is yes," his father said firmly.
"Come on, those appointments are boring as hell," Darius protested, making his sisters giggle at his use of the word "hell" in front of their parents.
"Language," his mom said, but she was already smiling. "And yes, you have to go. Non-negotiable."
"I bet the doctor's gonna ask him how he's feeling and Darius is gonna say 'basketball' and nothing else," Malik joked, and everyone at the table laughed.
"Probably," Darius's dad agreed, shaking his head. "Kid's got one track mind these days."
The teasing continued through the rest of dinner, the kind of family banter that Darius realized he'd been missing in all his focus on basketball. It felt good. Right. Like maybe he'd been so zeroed in on one thing that he'd forgotten there were other things worth paying attention to.
But even as he laughed with his family, a part of his mind was already thinking about tomorrow. About practice. About what he needed to do to make sure he wasn't one of those seniors still on second string, wondering what could have been.