The announcement came during practice on Monday. Coach Martinez gathered the second string team on the sideline while the first string ran their drills.
"We've got a game this Friday," he said, his voice carrying that matter-of-fact tone that meant business. "Against Riverside Valley High. They're a C-tier school, so we're sending the second string. This is your chance to get game reps, to compete against live opposition, and to show me what you're made of."
The energy shifted immediately. Not just because there was a game coming, but because this was real. Not practice scrimmages. Not controlled drills. An actual opponent, an actual scoreboard, an actual test.
Darius felt something activate inside him. Game day. After weeks of training, of being on the sideline watching Khalil run the first string offense, now he was going to step onto a real court and lead an actual team against real competition.
The week of preparation was focused in a way that training usually wasn't. There was a purpose now beyond just individual improvement. They were learning sets specific to their opponents. Coach Williams spent time breaking down Riverside Valley's tendencies, showing film of their perimeter defense, their help rotations, their weak points.
Connor pulled Darius aside during a water break on Wednesday.
"Yo, you ready for this?" he asked, and there was genuine excitement in his voice.
"Hell yeah," Darius said. "You?"
"Man, I'm hyped," Connor admitted. "I've been waiting for a game since I made second string. Just to see how I perform against actual opposition, you know?"
"From what I've seen of Riverside Valley's film, they got some good young talent this year," Darius said, remembering what Coach had shown them. "Bunch of freshmen who actually look like they can play. I'm excited to get out there against them."
Connor smirked and shrugged. "Yeah, well, we'll see how excited you are when they're hitting you with full-court pressure and you can't get the ball to half court. Film don't tell you everything, man. Some teams just got that scrappy energy that doesn't show up on tape."
"Nah, I'm for real though," Darius said. "I want to see how I stack up against different competition. Different styles. This is exactly what I need right now."
Friday afternoon came faster than expected. The bus ride to Riverside Valley High School felt longer than it should have, the energy on the vehicle a mix of excitement and nervous energy. Darius sat with Connor, both of them going through their pre-game routines. Connor was listening to music, his headphones in, his eyes closed. Darius was running through the offensive sets in his head, visualizing different scenarios, different defensive looks, different ways to attack.
The school itself was smaller than Lincoln Heights. Older. The kind of building that had character but also showed its age. C-tier school. Which meant solid enough to have a decent program, but nowhere near the resources or the talent pipeline of the Elite Eight.
As they got off the bus, Darius looked around at the facility. The gym was functional but nothing fancy. The bleachers looked like they'd been there since the eighties. But there were people already starting to arrive. Parents. Students. The school community showing up to watch their basketball team play.
Connor nudged him as they headed toward the visitor's locker room.
"Yo, you still hyped about seeing their young talent?" Connor asked with that characteristic smirk.
"Even more now," Darius said. "Let's go to work."
The locker room was buzzing with controlled energy. Not the frantic chaos of a panicked team, but the focused intensity of a second string squad that understood this was their moment to prove something. Coach Martinez was already there, reviewing the game plan one more time.
"Listen up," he said as everyone gathered around. "These guys are C-tier for a reason. But don't sleep. They're hungry. They want to prove they belong at a higher level. That's dangerous. So we execute. We don't make mistakes. We impose our will early and we keep them from getting comfortable. Understood?"
"Yes, Coach," everyone responded in unison.
Darius finished tying his shoes, wrapped the black headband around his forehead, and stood up. Connor was doing the same thing on the adjacent locker.
"You good?" Connor asked, that casual warmth they'd developed over the past few weeks evident in his voice.
"Ready," Darius confirmed.
They headed toward the gym, and Darius could feel it building inside him. The anticipation. The hunger. This was what he'd been training for all week, all month, all six months since losing to Riverside. This was his first real game as a member of the Elite Eight, even if it was as second string.
This was his moment to show everyone, including himself, what he could actually do.