Kris and Nikola were deep in conversation, their voices low, occasionally interrupted by soft laughter and thoughtful nods. In that moment, the rest of the gym faded away the noise, the squeaks of sneakers, even the pressure.
They had found a strange comfort in each other's presence.
So much so, that Nikola didn't even notice that Jamie had already finished his drill.
It wasn't until Kumstrim's voice boomed once more through the gym speakers that they were pulled back to reality.
"Alright, everyone," Kumstrim announced, his voice sharp and clear. "The next drill will be off the dribble shooting. Each of you will take 25 shots five from each spot around the arc, just like before. Only this time, you'll be putting the ball on the floor before you shoot."
There was a brief pause before he added, "This will be the final drill of the day, so give it everything you've got."
A murmur of focus and energy spread through the gym like a current. The weight of "last chance" sank in.
Nikola exchanged a glance with Kris. There wasn't much to say just a quiet nod of understanding between two competitors who had grown into friends.
Together, they stepped forward and took their place in line once more. One behind the other.
Waiting.
Focused.
As the line slowly moved forward, Nikola felt the weight of the day pressing on his shoulders. Sweat clung to his skin, and his legs ached from the countless sprints, jumps, and cuts. But now, standing just a few steps from the final challenge, something inside him had changed.
There was no more fear.
No more Jamie.
No more doubt.
Just the ball... and the basket.
"Next," Kumstrim called out, glancing at his clipboard.
Nikola stepped forward.
He dribbled the ball into his hands with a calm rhythm, taking his spot on the far right corner of the arc. A quiet breath escaped his lips.
This is it.
The first dribble came smooth he took a step, pulled up, and the ball splashed through the net.
One.
Then another.
And another.
Shot after shot, the ball seemed drawn to the rim like it belonged there.
He shifted across the court right wing, top of the key, left wing. With each spot, his confidence grew. His feet moved with rhythm, his release clean and fluid. The bounce and pull up had never felt so natural.
It was like his body remembered what his mind had doubted all day.
By the time he reached the final five shots in the left corner, even Kumstrim raised an eyebrow.
The last shot left his fingertips and soared in a perfect arc swish.
The gym fell into a brief hush.
Kumstrim checked his clipboard and gave a small nod of approval. "Nikola. 20 out of 25."
Nikola blinked, the number hanging in the air like a dream.
My best of the day...
He didn't smile, not outwardly. But something inside him something long buried finally stirred again.
Not joy.
Not pride.
But a flicker of belief.
As the final shot sank through the net, Aleksandar didn't move right away.
He just stared wide eyed, mouth slightly open as if trying to process what he had just witnessed.
Then suddenly, he sprang up from his seat like he had been struck by lightning.
"YO!" Aleksandar practically shouted, grabbing Hao by the shoulder with both hands. "Did you SEE THAT?! Hao, did you SEE THAT?!"
Hao blinked, startled. "Yeah, I saw"
"That wasn't just good, man! That was special! That was PRIME Steph Curry stuff down there! Off the dribble, from all five spots TWENTY out of twenty five?! Are you KIDDING ME?!"
He turned back to the court, eyes still locked on Nikola, who was walking back to the sideline with his head lowered, completely unaware of the storm he'd just stirred above.
"Bro, he looked like the floor was his. He was moving out there. You remember how shaky he was earlier? And now look at him! He's on FIRE!" Aleksandar continued, almost pacing in place. "This isn't the same Nikola that walked in this morning... this guy this guy's the real deal."
Hao let out a small chuckle, his eyes still calmly following Nikola. "He's definitely proving something."
"No, no, no," Aleksandar shook his head. "He's not just proving something. He's making a STATEMENT."
He looked back at Hao, his excitement impossible to contain.
"I'm telling you if they weren't watching before, they sure as hell are watching now."
After Nikola stepped off the court, towel draped over his neck, his heart still thumping from the heat of the moment, all eyes shifted to the next name on the list.
"Kris," called Kumstrim with a nod.
Kris didn't hesitate. He stepped up to the arc with a calmness that only came from quiet confidence. The ball was passed to him, and the drill began.
The moment he took the first dribble, it was clear he was smooth, composed. The way he flowed into his shot was almost effortless. One dribble, rise, release. Net. Again. Again.
From the corner, from the wing, from the top it didn't matter. He was dialed in.
Even Nikola, standing at the sideline, watched intently.
Every release was clean, every follow through perfect.
By the time Kris reached his final shot, a light sheen of sweat ran down his temple. The gym was quiet again, as it had been for Nikola, all attention centered on the rhythm of the ball and the swish of the net.
He let the last one fly.
Swish.
"19 out of 25," announced Kumstrim with a nod of approval.
Kris let out a slow breath, then jogged back toward the sideline where Nikola stood waiting.
They met with a grin.
"Yo," Kris said, offering a fist bump, "that last round? You were ice. 20 outta 25? Man, you were COOKIN'."
Nikola smiled, bumping his fist back. "Thanks, man. You weren't far behind either. Smooth as hell with that release."
They both chuckled, a quiet spark of camaraderie forming between them one built not from rivalry, but from mutual respect.
"Guess we're making each other better, huh?" Kris said.
Nikola nodded. "Yeah… I think we are."