Tuesday morning came with an unexpected development. As Jordan walked into the locker room, he was greeted by the sight of Coach McGill in a deep conversation with a man Jordan didn't recognize. The man was tall, wearing a slick, dark suit that looked completely out of place in the high school locker room. His eyes swept over the players, landing briefly on Jordan before returning to McGill.
"Who's that?" Chris whispered, leaning in.
"No idea," Jordan muttered, his curiosity piqued. He watched as McGill nodded toward him, and the man smiled slightly, as if making a mental note.
Practice went as usual, but Jordan's mind kept drifting back to the man in the suit. There had been something about the way he looked at Jordan, a quiet intensity, like he was sizing him up.
After practice, Coach McGill pulled Jordan aside. "That was a scout," he said, his voice gruff but calm. "From a Division II school. He's been watching you since last season. He's coming to more of our games."
Jordan's heart skipped a beat. "A scout?"
"Yeah," McGill said, his gaze steady. "But don't let it get to your head. You've got work to do. Scouts don't want players who crumble under pressure."
The words hit Jordan like a punch to the gut. His performance against Riverside still haunted him, but now there was more at stake. It wasn't just about winning games—it was about his future. And the eyes watching him were far from forgiving.