The game wore on, the score climbing point by point. Kendrick's legs burned, and his chest heaved with every breath, but he refused to back down. Trenton's aggression only seemed to grow, his moves more forceful, his words sharper.
"Don't think I don't see it, K-Dawg," Trenton said after sinking another shot. "You're still that scared little kid trying to impress everyone."
Kendrick wiped the sweat from his brow, his jaw tight. "You can talk all you want, but the score doesn't lie."
Trenton sneered. "You think the streets care about scores? This isn't some showcase. This is real life."
Kendrick didn't respond. Instead, he focused on the ball, dribbling with precision as he planned his next move. He drove toward the basket, but Trenton blocked him hard, knocking him off balance.
Kendrick hit the ground, the impact jarring his body. He looked up to see Trenton standing over him, the ball in his hands.
"You can't outrun this, K-Dawg," Trenton said, his voice low. "No matter how far you go, you'll always be one of us."
Kendrick pushed himself up, his eyes locking onto Trenton's. "Maybe. But that doesn't mean I have to stay here."
He stole the ball on the next possession, sprinting to the hoop for an explosive dunk. The rim rattled as the ball slammed through, and Kendrick landed with a renewed sense of determination.
The score was now 18-17 in Kendrick's favor. The game was nearing its end, but the tension felt heavier than ever. Every movement, every shot, every word carried weight.
"You think this win will fix everything?" Trenton asked, his voice rising as he squared up for his next move. "You think it'll make the streets forget who you are?"
"No," Kendrick said, his voice steady. "But it's a start."