James's eyes flickered over the pages of his textbook, but nothing registered. He was mentally preparing for class when the overhead lights dimmed unexpectedly.
Looking up, he saw Thompson standing before him, a towering figure with a fierce expression that radiated an intimidating aura. Unfazed, James leaned back against the table, crossing his arms casually.
"What's up?" James asked, eyeing Thompson with a mix of curiosity and indifference.
Thompson ignored the casual atmosphere and the murmurs of the students around them. James had faced far more menacing situations in life, dealing with individuals wielding knives and guns, so Thompson's presence did little to rattle him.
"Thompson, what's going on?" Peter, who had been sitting behind James, stood up, positioning himself alongside his friend.
Gwen, her brow furrowed with concern, also rose to her feet. "Thompson, this is campus. Think before you act."
Under the scrutiny of James, Peter, and Gwen, Thompson hesitated, momentarily introspective. Was his life really just about fighting?
After a deep sigh, Thompson met James's gaze, sincerity etched on his face. "I want to play basketball."
James remained silent, his expression unreadable.
"What do you mean? If you want to play, talk to the coach. You know he's not going to pay attention if you haven't been working on your game or socializing," James replied bluntly.
Thompson glanced nervously at Peter and Gwen before continuing, "Don't worry, I'm not here to stir up trouble."
He shifted his focus back to James. "I'm here to ask for your help."
James motioned for Thompson to take a seat in the empty chair behind him. "Alright, speak up. I might help, but no promises."
Thompson didn't waste time. "Our coach, a former assistant for a college team, set up a matchup with the college team visiting from Davidson. This could be my last game before I join the army next month."
"Joining the army?" Peter and Gwen exchanged surprised glances.
Thompson nodded solemnly. "Yeah."
Gwen fumed, crossing her arms. "Then why are you coming to my house for help with lessons if you're not planning on going to college?"
Thompson's face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Gwen. I wanted to explain earlier, but every time I tried, you were too busy studying."
James interjected, "Get to the point. Spare us the backstory."
Thompson nodded, refocusing. "Right. I need you to join our basketball team for the game against Davidson. They're a strong team, and I want to make sure I don't finish high school with regrets."
Acknowledging his past mistakes, Thompson continued, "I hope you can help me, despite what happened yesterday in the gym. I want us to tackle this challenge together."
James appreciated Thompson's candidness. "Alright, I'll help. When's the game?"
"This afternoon," Thompson replied, a spark of hope igniting in his eyes. "Meet me at the gym at noon for practice."
When James and Peter arrived at the gym, they were taken aback by the throngs of spectators filling the stands.
"Wow, this place is usually empty. What's with the crowd?" James remarked, glancing around.
"Yeah, strange," Peter replied, distracted.
James quickly lost interest in the conversation, realizing that the attention wasn't on him; it was on a baby-faced player on the court practicing his shots.
The game between Midtown High School and Davidson College was set to begin at 3 o'clock. As the match unfolded, James found himself doubling Davidson's head point guard, Stephen, diving into the rhythm of the game with a renewed sense of purpose.