Chapter One — Friday Night Lights
The gym pulsed with energy. Banners hung from the rafters, the bleachers were packed, and the air smelled of popcorn, sweat, and floor polish. The scoreboard ticked down the last ten seconds of the game, the crowd chanting:
"E-than! E-than! E-than!"
Ethan Gray dribbled past the defender, cut to the left, and leapt for the basket. The ball sank through the hoop with a clean swish. The crowd roared.
The buzzer blared, final score flashing bright: Home 68 – Visitors 65.
The gym exploded with cheers. Teammates swarmed Ethan, clapping his back and shouting, "That's my captain!" His coach pumped a fist from the sidelines, the cheer squad screamed his name, and the entire school seemed to surge around him.
Ethan smiled, letting it wash over him. This was his role. This was who he was—the captain, the leader, the guy who always delivered.
But as the team jogged off court, sweat plastering his dark curls to his forehead, he caught his reflection in the glass backboard. His grin faltered for just a second.
Why doesn't this feel like enough anymore?
Locker Room Aftermath
The locker room buzzed with celebration. Mason, his best friend and point guard, threw his arm around Ethan.
"Man, clutch shot as always. You're seriously not human."
Ethan smirked. "Just lucky."
"Lucky? Bro, you've carried us since freshman year." Mason shook his head. "You've got scouts in the stands every game now. Full ride's basically yours. You're set."
The words should've filled Ethan with relief. Instead, they felt heavy. Set. Like a path carved out for him with no turns allowed.
Coach Daniels stormed in, clapping his hands. "Alright, men! That's how you fight to the end. Ethan—textbook captain material. Everyone follow his lead."
The guys cheered again, and Ethan forced another smile. He was good at this mask by now.
The Quiet Ride Home
Later that night, Ethan tossed his duffel in the back of his beat-up Jeep. His little sister, Marissa, was already in the passenger seat, scrolling on her phone.
"Good game, superstar," she said without looking up. "They'll probably build a statue of you out front before you graduate."
"Funny," Ethan muttered, starting the engine. "You didn't even watch the game."
"Of course not. I had better things to do." She shoved her phone in his face, showing him a group chat with cartoon avatars. "Our D&D session ran late. Harper had this insane cliffhanger planned."
Ethan raised a brow. "D&D? Still rolling dice in the library basement with your nerd squad?"
Marissa gasped dramatically. "Excuse you—'nerd squad'? We prefer elite fantasy adventurers."
He smirked. "Right. Because nothing screams 'elite' like orcs and elf costumes."
She groaned, slapping his arm. "You have no idea. It's not costumes, it's storytelling. It's epic. You should play with us sometime."
Ethan laughed, the idea absurd. "Yeah, the captain of the basketball team joining your little wizard club? That'll be the day."
Marissa leaned back, crossing her arms. "You're scared."
"Scared? Of dice?"
"Of imagination. You only know how to win when there's a scoreboard." Her smirk mirrored his own.
Ethan rolled his eyes, but her words lingered longer than he expected.
Monday Morning — Math Class
The weekend came and went. By Monday morning, Ethan found himself back in the fluorescent-lit halls of Franklin High. The buzz of lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking on tile, and laughter bouncing off walls felt familiar.
He slid into his usual seat in math class—third row, middle, where he could nap unnoticed. Mason sat beside him, doodling plays in his notebook.
At the back of the room sat Harper Lee. Not that Harper Lee—this Harper wore oversized sweaters, round glasses that slipped down her nose, and kept her red hair in a choppy bob that looked like she cut it herself. Her desk was covered in doodles: dragons curling around equations, warriors battling across the margins.
Ethan had seen her before, sure, but only as background scenery. Today, though, after Marissa's rant about D&D, he found himself actually looking.
Harper leaned over her sketchbook, shading the wing of a dragon with such focus she didn't even notice the teacher calling roll. There was a different kind of intensity in her face—quiet, but alive.
Mason nudged Ethan. "Dude, why are you staring at Dragon Girl back there?"
Ethan blinked, quickly turning back around. "Wasn't staring."
"Sure. Just saying—she's in my chem class. Barely talks. Total nerd." Mason shrugged. "Not your type."
Ethan forced a laugh, but something in his chest tugged. He didn't even know her voice, and yet… he wanted to.
Inciting Incident
That afternoon, Marissa cornered him in the kitchen while he was making a protein shake.
"Our D&D group lost a player," she blurted, too cheerful. "You're joining."
Ethan snorted. "Absolutely not."
"You owe me."
"For what?"
"My silence." She smirked. "Remember last weekend? You 'accidentally' FaceTimed Hannah while you were shirtless? Mom thought you were being inappropriate."
Ethan groaned. "That was a mistake."
"Doesn't matter. I covered for you. So now—you're in."
He pointed the blender at her like a weapon. "You're blackmailing me into playing make-believe with your dork squad?"
"Not dork squad." Her eyes glittered with triumph. "Adventuring party. Meet us Thursday after school. Library back room. Don't be late."
She flounced out, leaving Ethan shaking his head. He couldn't believe he was actually considering it.
But as he leaned against the counter, sipping his shake, his mind drifted back to the quiet girl with the dragon sketches.
Harper Lee. Was she part of that group too?
For the first time in a long while, Ethan felt a flicker of curiosity about something other than basketball.