The crowd was standing now, the energy around the court unlike anything Lucas had ever felt. The score was 17-17, and every person watching knew—this was it. There was no more room for error. One mistake could mean the difference between walking away as champions or leaving empty-handed.
Lucas took a deep breath, wiping sweat from his brow. His heart was pounding, but he forced himself to focus. He had been in high-pressure situations before—just not in this body. His teenage hormones had been making everything more intense all game, emotions flaring higher than they should. But now wasn't the time to overthink. He had to stay calm.
Miguel clapped his hands. "Come on, let's take the lead."
Jaylen nodded. "One stop, one bucket."
Lucas took the inbound pass, dribbling up the court as the Kings settled into their defense. Their big man was still patrolling the paint, but their guards were tighter now, denying every passing lane.
Red Hawks' Possession
Lucas called for a screen, and Jaylen set a solid one at the top of the key. The Kings' big man hedged aggressively, trying to trap Lucas, but he recognized it immediately. Instead of forcing a contested shot, he swung a quick pass to Miguel on the right wing.
Miguel caught the ball, took one hard dribble inside, and pulled up for a midrange jumper.
The Kings' defender lunged, but Miguel had already released it.
The ball floated through the air and splashed through the net.
"18-17, Red Hawks!" the DJ announced as the crowd erupted.
Miguel turned to the Kings' bench, smirking. "Y'all better step up."
Lucas laughed, jogging back on defense. One more stop. Let's go.
Kings' Possession
The Kings moved quickly, their point guard bringing the ball up the floor. He waved off a screen, wanting to take Lucas one-on-one.
Lucas dropped into a defensive stance, his arms wide, eyes locked onto the ball. The Kings' guard dribbled left, then hit a hesitation move, trying to shake Lucas loose.
Lucas didn't bite.
The guard tried a crossover, but Lucas stayed with him, forcing him to pass out to the Kings' big man near the elbow. Jaylen stepped up, getting in his face.
The big man turned, looking for an opening. He faked a drive, then took a long step into the paint, bumping Jaylen with his shoulder before flipping a soft hook shot over him.
The ball bounced once on the rim before dropping in.
"Tied up! 18-18!"
Jaylen let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head. "I had a hand up."
Lucas patted his chest. "He had to work for that one. Let's just answer back."
Red Hawks' Possession
Lucas dribbled up the court, his mind racing. The Kings weren't giving him anything easy, and the intensity of the moment made it feel like the court had shrunk.
Miguel darted around the arc, trying to shake free from his defender, but the Kings were sticking to him.
Lucas saw an opening. Jaylen's defender was overplaying, expecting a screen. Instead, Lucas faked the pass, took a hard first step, and cut toward the lane.
The Kings' big man rotated over to contest, but Lucas had already gathered, stepping into a smooth floater over the outstretched arms.
It hung in the air, then swished through the net.
"19-18, Red Hawks!"
The crowd roared, and Lucas clenched his fists. One more stop. One more.
Kings' Possession
The Kings took their time on the next play, methodically working the ball around the perimeter. Their sharpshooter, who had been deadly all game, was moving constantly, running his defender through screens.
Miguel chased him, fighting through the picks, but the Kings were patient.
The ball swung around, and the Kings' guard attacked the basket. Jaylen stepped up, arms raised high, but the guard whipped a no-look pass to their big man near the free-throw line.
The big man didn't hesitate, taking one dribble and laying it up.
The ball bounced around the rim before falling through.
"Tied again! 19-19!"
Lucas exhaled sharply, wiping his hands on his shorts. We need the best shot possible. No hero ball.
He brought the ball up, scanning the court. The Kings were locking down Miguel, denying him the ball, and Jaylen was being bodied in the post.
Lucas drove left, drawing a second defender, then quickly passed out to Miguel, who had finally found some space.
Miguel caught it, took one dribble, and pulled up for the potential game-winner.
The Kings' defender lunged at the last second, getting a fingertip on the shot.
The ball wobbled mid-air, hitting the rim and bouncing out.
The Kings' big man secured the rebound and immediately passed it out to their point guard.
Kings' Possession – The Shot
The Red Hawks scrambled to get back on defense as the Kings' point guard slowed the pace, controlling the ball at the top of the arc.
Lucas watched his movements carefully. They're going for a final shot.
The Kings' offense shifted into motion. Their point guard dribbled toward the wing, forcing Lucas to follow. Miguel stayed locked onto the sharpshooter, refusing to let him get free.
But the Kings had planned for this.
A perfect off-ball screen sent the sharpshooter cutting hard to the top of the arc. Miguel got caught just for a second—just enough time for the sharpshooter to catch the pass.
Lucas' heart jumped. No!
The sharpshooter squared up. His release was quick, fluid, automatic.
He let it fly.
The ball soared through the air, spinning perfectly toward the rim.
The crowd collectively held its breath.
Lucas could only watch.
To be continued.