Two weeks had passed since the Riverside Valley game, and everything felt different. Not just for Darius, but for the entire second string. The culture shift that had started as a desperate attempt to avoid embarrassment had solidified into something real. Practices were sharper. Communication was better. Guys were setting screens for each other without being told. The Hustle System had rewarded the change too.
SYSTEM LEVEL 27 ACHIEVED
Unlocked: Team Synergy BonusNew Feature: Teammate Performance Enhancement (Allies play 5% better when coordinated through your passes)
Updated Stats:
Ball Handling: 15 (Up from 14) Passing Accuracy: 15 (Up from 13) Basketball IQ: 75 (Up from 72) Leadership: 82 (Up from 78)
The improvement wasn't just numbers on a screen. Darius could feel it in practice, in the way his teammates responded to his calls, in how the offense flowed when he was running point. Coach Martinez had noticed too, evidenced by the announcement he'd made that morning during film review.
"Starting lineup for tonight against Westfield Prep," Coach had said, his tone casual like this wasn't a big deal. "Darius at point, Connor at the two, Ty at the three, Marcus at the four, Jerome at center."
The room had gone quiet for just a second. Darius starting. Not Marcus, the senior who'd been the de facto point guard. Darius, the freshman.
Marcus had taken it better than expected, just nodding once and saying, "About time." No bitterness. Just acknowledgment.
Now, hours later, Darius sat in the visitor's locker room at Westfield Prep, lacing up his shoes for his first start representing Lincoln Heights. The gym outside was already buzzing with energy. C-tier school, yeah, but Westfield had a reputation. They'd been knocking on the door of B-tier status for three straight years, always falling just short in the district tournament.
Connor sat next to him, going through his own pre-game ritual. "You nervous?"
"Nah," Darius said, and he meant it. "Just ready."
"Their point guard is gonna come at you hard," Connor warned. "Brandon Mitchell. Junior. He's been carrying this team since his freshman year. Averages like twenty-two points per game. Real competitive dude."
"I heard he's good."
"He's more than good. He's legitimately Elite Eight caliber, just stuck at a C-tier school because of where he lives." Connor stood up and stretched. "And word is, he's pissed we're sending our second string. Feels like we're disrespecting him or something."
Darius finished tying his shoes and wrapped the black headband around his forehead, adjusting it over his cornrows. "Then he'll get to prove something tonight."
They filed out of the locker room and into the gym. The place was packed, more so than Riverside Valley had been. Westfield's student section was organized, coordinated, all wearing blue and white. Signs hung from the railings. The energy was electric in a way that suggested this wasn't just another game for them.
As Darius jogged onto the court for warmups, he immediately spotted their point guard. Brandon Mitchell was impossible to miss. Six-foot-two, lean but athletic, with blonde hair pulled back in a short ponytail. He moved with the confidence of someone who'd been the best player on every court he'd stepped on, his warmup shots falling with mechanical precision.
During layup lines, Brandon caught Darius looking at him and held the stare for a moment. Not hostile exactly, but definitely competitive. Like he was sizing up the opponent. Then he turned to one of his teammates and said something that made them both glance at the Lincoln Heights bench.
"Yo, I think he's talking about us," Ty muttered as he passed Darius the ball.
"Let him talk," Darius replied, rising up for a layup. "We'll answer on the court."
Warmups ended. Both teams gathered at their benches. Coach Martinez pulled his starters aside.
"Westfield runs a motion offense built around their point guard. Mitchell's going to have the ball in his hands on almost every possession. Darius, you're going to be chasing him all night. Stay disciplined. Don't reach. Make him earn everything."
Darius nodded.
"On offense, run what we practiced. Motion sets. Ball movement. They're going to trap and pressure, trying to speed us up. Don't let them. Stay composed."
The starters walked out to center court for the tip-off. Darius found himself standing across from Brandon Mitchell as they waited for their centers to jump.
Brandon looked at him directly, his voice low enough that only Darius could hear. "Sending the second string, huh? That's how much we're worth to Lincoln Heights?"
Darius met his eyes. "You're playing the second string. That's all you need to know."
"We'll see how confident you are when I drop thirty on your head."
The ref tossed the ball up. Jerome got a hand on it, tipping it back toward Darius. Lincoln Heights had possession.
Darius caught it and immediately felt Brandon's pressure. Full court. Aggressive. The kind of defense that said "I'm coming for you all night."
Darius crossed half court, his dribble controlled despite the pressure. Brandon's hands were active, reaching without fouling, making everything difficult. Darius called for motion, and his teammates immediately started moving.
Connor came off a screen and cut to the basket. Darius hit him with a bounce pass. Connor caught it in stride and finished with a layup.
Lincoln Heights 2, Westfield 0.
Brandon grabbed the inbound and brought it up with purpose. He crossed half court and immediately went into isolation, waving his teammates to clear out. This was his show. His moment to prove something.
He dribbled at the top, testing Darius with a series of hesitation moves. Darius stayed low, eyes on Brandon's chest, reading his movements. Brandon drove hard right, his first step explosive. Darius stayed with him, but Brandon had another gear.
He got into the paint and rose up for a floater. The shot was perfect, kissing off the glass and dropping through.
Westfield 2, Lincoln Heights 2.
As they ran back, Brandon jogged next to Darius. "That's one. Twenty-nine more coming."
Darius didn't respond. Just caught the inbound and brought it back up.
The game had started. And everyone in that gym could feel it.
This wasn't going to be like Riverside Valley. This was something else entirely.
This was personal.