The gymnasium felt different when it was packed.
Darius sat in the bleachers with the rest of the second string, his eyes scanning the crowd that filled nearly every available seat. Students packed the student section, their coordinated chants already starting even though warmups were still happening. Parents occupied the middle sections, some holding signs with player numbers. Even the standing-room areas along the walls had bodies pressed together, everyone wanting to witness Lincoln Heights' first official game of the season.
"Damn," Connor muttered from beside him, his voice carrying genuine surprise. "I knew first string games drew crowds, but this is different."
"This is Elite Eight basketball," Ty said from Darius's other side. "This is what we're working toward."
Darius didn't respond. He was too busy absorbing the atmosphere, cataloging the difference between this and the game he'd played just days ago. The energy was electric in a way that went beyond just numbers of people. This was anticipation. Expectation. The belief that something significant was about to happen.
The opponents warming up on the other end of the court were Riverside Academy, a solid B-tier school that had been knocking on the door of Elite Eight status for three straight years. Their jerseys were navy blue with gold trim, and two players immediately stood out during warmups.
Number 12, their shooting guard, moved with the fluid grace of someone who'd spent years perfecting his craft. His warmup shots fell with mechanical precision, each one swishing through the net with barely a sound.
Number 23, their power forward, was built like someone who'd been playing against grown men since middle school. Six-foot-six, maybe 220 pounds, all of it functional muscle. His dunks during layup lines made the rim shake, drawing reactions from the crowd despite the game not having started yet.
"Those are their guys," Jerome said, leaning forward from the row behind. "Number twelve is Jaylen Carter. Averages like twenty-five points per game. Number twenty-three is Marcus Reid. He's a beast in the paint."
Darius filed the information away, his analytical mind already starting to break down their movements, their tendencies, the way they interacted with their teammates.
In the Lincoln Heights locker room, Coach Martinez stood in front of his first string starters, his presence commanding immediate attention despite his calm demeanor. The energy in the room was focused but loose—players who'd been here before, who understood the moment without being overwhelmed by it.
Khalil sat on the bench in front of his locker, his practice jersey already soaked with sweat from warmups. Beside him, Derek Williams stretched his hamstrings. Terrell Jackson was retaping his ankle. Marcus Thompson was going through some last-minute visualization, his eyes closed, his breathing controlled.
"Alright, listen up," Martinez said, his voice cutting through the pre-game noise. "First official game of the season. Riverside Academy. Good team. Well-coached. They've got two elite players who can hurt us if we're not disciplined."
He walked to the whiteboard and drew up their defensive scheme, his marker squeaking against the surface as he outlined rotations and assignments.
"But here's what I want you to remember," Martinez continued, turning back to face them. "Your second string teammates just dropped fifty on a C-tier school. Fifty points. Complete domination. You know what that tells me?"
The room was silent, everyone listening.
"It tells me we have depth. It tells me we have a culture of excellence that extends beyond just the starting five. And most importantly, it tells me that if you're not playing at your absolute best, there's someone waiting who will."
Martinez's tone wasn't threatening. It was motivating. Challenging.
"So tonight, you show everyone why you're first string. Why you're the ones representing Lincoln Heights in the Elite Eight. You show Riverside Academy what happens when they step onto our court. And you show your second string teammates that their performance last week was good, but this? This is the standard."
Derek Williams stood up, his voice carrying that captain's authority. "We hear you, Coach. We're ready."
"I know you are," Martinez said, then smiled slightly. "Now let's go make a statement."
The team stood as one, gathering in the center of the locker room. Hands came together in the middle.
"Lincoln Heights on three," Derek said. "One, two, three—"
"LINCOLN HEIGHTS!"
Game Time: 10:00 | Lincoln Heights 0,Crossline High 0
The starting lineups were announced to thunderous applause. For Lincoln Heights: Derek Williams at shooting guard, Terrell Jackson at small forward, Marcus Thompson at power forward, Khalil at center, and Jonathan Cruz at point guard.
For Riverside Academy: Jaylen Carter at shooting guard, Marcus Reid at power forward, and three solid role players filling out the rest of the starting five.
The referee held the ball at center court. Khalil and Riverside's center—a six-foot-five senior named Davis—positioned themselves for the jump ball.
In the stands, Darius leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, every sense focused on what was about to happen.
The ball went up.
Khalil got a hand on it, tipping it back toward Jonathan. Lincoln Heights had possession.
Jonathan brought the ball up methodically, his eyes scanning the defense as he crossed half court. Riverside set up in a 2-3 zone, clearly trying to take away Lincoln Heights' inside game early.
Jonathan called for motion. The ball swung from him to Derek on the right wing. Derek immediately looked inside to Khalil posting up on the left block.
The entry pass came clean. Khalil caught it with Davis on his back, immediately feeling the physical pressure. Davis was strong, pushing into Khalil's lower back, denying easy position.
Khalil backed him down with two powerful dribbles, each one moving Davis closer to the basket. On the second dribble, he spun baseline and rose up for a hook shot.
Davis jumped to contest, his hand reaching toward the ball. But Khalil had timed it perfectly, releasing just over Davis's fingertips.
The ball kissed the glass and dropped through.
Lincoln Heights 2, Crossline High 0
Game Time: 9:37
The home crowd erupted. Khalil jogged back on defense with no celebration, just focus. First basket of the season. Statement made.
Riverside brought the ball up, and immediately their offense ran through Jaylen Carter. The shooting guard came off a screen on the right wing, his defender fighting to stay attached. Jonathan navigated the screen well, staying on Carter's hip.
Carter caught the ball anyway, his hands quick, his positioning perfect. He rose up for a mid-range jumper in one smooth motion.