"3 seconds to go 2 seconds 1 second left on the clock Treyvon Knox shoots the ball and BLURH BLURH BLURH."
Treyvon shot up from his sleep he was sweating bullets today was officially game day Trey grabbed his phone and stopped his alarm the time read 6:30 AM. He set his alarm early so he could wake up and shower before school today was the day hed been waiting for ever since that disappointing loss during his middle school championship.
Trey walked to the bathroom threw some water on his face to wake himself up and brushed his teeth before hopping in the shower after he got out it was nearing 7 he went into his closet and threw on his jumpsuit they had to wear them on gamedays he walked over to the mirror and looked at himself.
He had on the matching sweatpants he had a fresh haircut he got a few days before it was time for his high school basketball career to officially begin.
He looked clean. The dark gray jumpsuit fit perfectly, the "West Newark Basketball" stitched across his chest. First game day. It didn't even feel real yet.
He grabbed his bag from the corner and quietly stepped out of his room, careful not to wake his mom. She was still asleep in her room down the hall she worked long hours, and Trey didn't want to bother her this early.
Outside, the air was cold and crisp. Trey threw his hood on put his air pods in and headed to the bus stop. It was still dark out. He was the only one there.
The bus pulled up, loud brakes cutting through the silence. He stepped on and found his usual seat near the back. It was half-empty, just a few tired kids scrolling on their phones or staring out the windows.
Trey leaned against the window, the city still half-asleep around him. His music played low in his ears some Rod Wave, then Lil Baby. He wasn't nervous, but something in his chest was tight. By the time the bus pulled up to school, the sun had started to come up. Trey stepped off, hoodie still up, eyes focused. The halls were already loud when he walked in.
The school day went on in first period, Trey sat near the back of the classroom, barely paying attention as the teacher went on about cell structures. His Chromebook was open, but he wasn't really typing just tapping the spacebar every few minutes so it wouldn't go to sleep.
"Y'all got a game tonight, right?" a kid asked him during group work.
"Yeah," Trey said, not even looking up. "Brickland."
The kid nodded like he knew what that meant. Most of the school didn't really care about basketball, not yet anyway. Trey didn't mind. He wasn't playing for clout. Not right now.
Second and third period flew by. A few people told him "Good luck," others didn't say anything. Teachers cracked the usual jokes "You better not lose!" or "Don't get blown out!" Trey just smiled and kept it pushing.
At lunch, some of the team sat together at the back corner table. Jamal, Jordan, Andre, and Sean were already there, trading trash talk like usual.
"Man, Brickland ain't all that," Andre said, eating chicken tenders like he was mid-interview. "I gave 'em eight off the bench last year. Light work."
Jordan smiled "JV beat them last night so we might win this time"
"Every time we bring up brickland Andre swear he dropped 30," Jamal joked, shaking his head.
"I'm just sayin', I could've," Andre shot back. "Coach had me on a minutes restriction."
"Yeah, 'cause you was trash," Sean said.
The whole table erupted again.
Trey just smirked, sipping his fruit punch. The nerves were still there, but it helped being around them. They were loud, but they were real.
By seventh period, the buzz in the hallways started to pick up. People asked what time the game was. A few girls said they might pull up. It felt good.
Coach Davenport sent out a Remind message:"Be in the locker room by 3:15. Bus leaves at 3:45 sharp. Be locked in."
After school, Trey packed his uniform since this was an away game his away uniform on it was black and with gray trim with white numbers and He tucked it in his bag. Everything had to feel right.
Coach Davenport gathered them in the locker room before they left.
"Alright. This ain't no walkthrough tonight. Brickland's physical. They're loud. But they're not smarter than us, and they're not more disciplined. So we play our pace, we trust each other, and we keep our heads."
He looked around the room. "We're not just showing up anymore. We're here to win. Let's act like it."
No yelling. Just sharp, controlled energy. Trey liked that.
They loaded up the bus soon after. Twenty-five minutes to Brickland. Some guys slept, others had music blasting. Trey sat by the window again, watching the city blur into the suburbs.
The bus pulled up outside a red brick building with a massive banner "Welcome to The Doghouse."
Brickland High. Home of the Bulldogs.
Trey stepped off the bus with his hood still up. The gym was already packed from the sound of it. You could hear basketballs bouncing and sneakers squeaking through the walls it seemed like they were warming up.
They walked in together, single file. Trey glanced up at the banners. Brickland had some history nothing crazy, but enough to make this feel big.
The Bulldogs' gym was smaller than West Newark's, but tighter. Bleachers right up on the court. People already staring.
They headed straight to the visitor locker room. Trey dropped his bag and sat down slowly.
This was it.
Game time.