The squeak of sneakers echoed across the polished gym floor at Royal Woods Middle School. Afternoon sunlight poured through the high windows, painting golden streaks across the basketball court. The air smelled faintly of rubber balls and sweat — the scent of competition.
At center court stood Dante Ramirez, tall and broad-shouldered, spinning a basketball on his fingertip like it weighed nothing. His dark curls bounced slightly as he grinned down at his challenger.
"You sure about this, Lynn?" he asked, his tone calm but playful.
Lynn Loud Jr., ponytail swinging, glared at him like a predator eyeing prey. Her jersey was already damp with sweat even though the game hadn't started. She bounced on her toes, dribbling furiously. "Best two out of three. Winner gets bragging rights forever."
Dante smirked. "Forever, huh? That's a long time."
From the sidelines, Lincoln Loud slouched against the bleachers, holding a borrowed whistle. His best friend Clyde sat next to him, clutching a clipboard with so many notes it looked like he was preparing for the Olympics.
"Why did we agree to referee this again?" Lincoln muttered.
"Because," Clyde whispered with wide-eyed seriousness, "this is history in the making. If Dante beats Lynn at her own game, it could change the Loud family power rankings forever."
Lincoln rolled his eyes. "Clyde, there are no family power rankings."
"You're number seven," Clyde replied without hesitation, scribbling furiously.
Before Lincoln could argue, Lynn barked, "Blow the whistle, Ref!"
Lincoln reluctantly raised the whistle to his lips and gave it a shrill tweet. The sound bounced around the gym like an alarm. "Alright! First to five points wins!"
The ball was in play.
Lynn shot forward like a cannonball, swiping at the ball in Dante's hand. But he moved with ease, sidestepping, his sneakers gliding across the floor. With a smooth jump, he banked the ball off the backboard and into the hoop. The net swished cleanly.
"One–zero," Lincoln called.
"Lucky shot!" Lynn growled, already snatching the ball. She dribbled hard, her face set with determination. The sound of the ball pounding the floor echoed like a drumbeat. She feinted left, charged right—
—but Dante leaned in, stealing the ball clean from her hands. He pivoted, shot, and scored again.
From the bleachers came a chorus of voices. The Loud sisters had started gathering, drawn in by the noise like moths to a flame.
"Yo, Dee!" Luna shouted, grinning and holding up her guitar pick like a lighter. "That's some wicked footwork!"
"Footwork?" Lola scoffed, dressed in a pink pageant gown that looked comically out of place in the gym. She fanned herself with glittery intensity. "Ugh, boys and their sweaty games. Gross."
"Correction," Lisa chimed in, pushing her oversized glasses up her nose. "Dante's athletic performance is approximately 32% superior to Lynn's, factoring in stamina, reflex speed, and vertical leap."
"Not helping, Lisa!" Lynn snapped, lunging for the ball again. She managed to bump Dante's shoulder this time, but he barely staggered. He spun around her, planted his feet, and nailed a perfect three-pointer.
The gym erupted with gasps. Even Lucy, who had materialized silently in the shadows near the bleachers, murmured, "The new king has been crowned."
Lincoln blew the whistle again. "Three–zero! Dante's in the lead!"
Lynn was panting now, her face red but her spirit far from broken. She grit her teeth, tightening her ponytail. "You think you've won, huh? Think again!"
The next play turned chaotic. Lynn practically tackled Dante for possession, and for a moment, it looked like she might wrestle the ball free. But Dante's strength won out. With a gentle push — not enough to hurt her, but enough to hold her off — he broke free and dunked the ball with a thunderous slam.
Four–zero.
"Wooo! Slam dunk!" Luna howled like she was at a rock concert.
Even Clyde, who was supposed to be impartial, scribbled "Dante = MVP???" on his clipboard.
Sweat dripping down her face, Lynn clutched the ball after it bounced back. She hunched over, breathing hard. "Okay… okay… one more round. I can still come back."
Dante tilted his head, offering a hand to help her straighten. "You sure? We can stop here."
"Never." She slapped his hand away, eyes blazing. "Lynn Loud Jr. doesn't quit."
But when Lincoln blew the whistle again, the end came fast. Lynn charged too hard, stumbled, and fell flat on her stomach with a loud thud. Dante scooped up the ball and, with almost lazy precision, tossed it into the hoop. Swish.
"Game over!" Lincoln declared. "Winner… Dante Ramirez!"
The sisters erupted in a mix of cheers, groans, and one sarcastic clap from Lola. Lucy whispered, "A new era begins," like she was narrating a prophecy.
Lynn pushed herself up, cheeks red from more than exertion. She marched up to Dante, sticking a finger in his chest. "Don't think this means you're better than me."
Dante grinned. "Didn't say I was. But hey—good game."
He held out his hand again, and this time, Lynn hesitated before shaking it. Her grip was firm, almost bone-crushing, but Dante didn't flinch.
By the time they left the gym, Dante was sweaty, tired, and laughing. The sisters swarmed around him, already challenging him to new contests:
"Bet you can't eat ten chili dogs faster than me," Lynn Sr. shouted from the bleachers where he'd snuck in to watch.
"Can you balance a teacup while running?" Lola demanded.
"Test subject!" Lisa scribbled furiously.
Collapsing on the Loud House couch later, Dante stretched his long legs and groaned. "Okay… rule number one: never underestimate Lynn Jr."
"Rule number two," Lincoln added, flopping beside him with a bag of chips, "never agree to any competition Lynn suggests."
Lynn leaned against the doorway, still sweaty but smiling in spite of herself. "One day, Ramirez. One day I'll beat you."
Dante smirked, tossing a chip into his mouth. "Looking forward to it."
And though she wouldn't admit it out loud, Lynn had a spark of respect in her eyes. For once, she'd met someone who could actually keep up.