Kendrick's days had become a blur of training and staying alert for any signs of trouble. Despite his best efforts to keep his head down, the streets never stopped watching. It was as if they were waiting, testing his resolve.
One evening, after an intense practice session with Coach Ray, Kendrick decided to take a longer route home, hoping to avoid any familiar faces. But as he turned the corner, he saw Trenton standing by a street lamp, his face hidden in shadows.
"Yo, K-Dawg!" Trenton called out, his tone light but laced with something darker.
Kendrick's stomach clenched, but he forced himself to stay calm. "What's up, Trent?"
Trenton walked closer, his eyes scanning Kendrick up and down. "You've been scarce, man. Almost like you're too busy for us now."
Kendrick took a steady breath. "Just been focused on basketball, Trent. Trying to keep my head in the game."
Trenton's smile didn't reach his eyes. "That game of yours might get you out, huh? Leave us all behind."
"It's not about leaving anyone behind, Trent," Kendrick replied, his voice low. "I just… I just want something different."
Trenton's face hardened. "Different, huh? Just remember, K-Dawg, different doesn't mean safe. You might think you're out, but the streets have a funny way of pulling you back."
Without another word, Trenton turned and walked away, leaving Kendrick standing alone under the flickering streetlight. The warning lingered, chilling him to the core. He couldn't shake the feeling that his past wasn't finished with him yet.