[Peak University 97.]
[Velaris Crown 81.]
A sixteen-point road win over the conference favorites.
The instant the buzzer sounded, the Peak bench emptied as players charged onto the floor, unable to contain their excitement.
Marcus immediately found Zack, wrapped both arms around him, and lifted him completely off the ground in a bear hug that nearly sent both of them crashing back onto the hardwood.
The bench players poured out behind them. Shouting. Laughing. Slapping shoulders and exchanging high-fives.
Several of the seniors who had endured the loss against Crown looked completely overwhelmed. Some were laughing so hard they could barely stand. Others looked suspiciously close to tears. All that frustration had just been washed away in forty minutes.
Stan was the last player to leave the bench. He walked into the celebration with the calm, slightly amused composure of a man who had just spent the most enjoyable thirty-five minutes of his recent life and had not yet fully processed what had happened. The team quickly swallowed him.
Zack found him in the middle of the chaos. He grabbed Stan by both shoulders and stared at him.
"Bro."
"Yeah."
"Bro."
"I heard you the first time."
Zack stared at him for a second before bursting out laughing. "Thanks for the help... That was an amazing performance for real. You dropped thirty-one in your first college game!"
"So I’ve been told."
"You dunked on these people!"
"It was only one dunk."
"Only one dunk?"
Stan couldn’t hold the straight face anymore. A grin slipped through.
Zack pointed triumphantly. "There! That’s the face of a man who knows exactly what he did."
Stan laughed and pulled him into a brief, hard hug. "Good game, Captain."
"Good game?" Zack looked personally offended. "That’s all you’ve got?"
"It seems appropriate."
"It absolutely is not."
Before Zack could continue his protest, another wave of celebrating teammates crashed into them and swept him away. Stan shook his head, still smiling.
Across the floor, Devon Bracks made his way through the crowd. The Crown star looked exhausted, sweat-soaked and disappointed. But there wasn’t even a trace of bitterness left in his expression. When he reached Stan, he extended his hand.
Stan took it immediately. For a moment, neither spoke. Then Devon nodded. "That was a hell of a game." His voice was quieter than it had been before tip-off. The contempt and skepticism from earlier in the night were completely gone. A hard-earned respect had taken their place.
"Damn," Devon said with a short laugh. "You’ve got my respect for real."
"Good game, Devon."
Devon shook his head. "Hell of a game, Stan."
Their hands clasped briefly. Player to player. Competitor to competitor. Then Devon released his grip and headed back toward the Crown bench, leaving Stan standing amid the celebration as Peak University continued to savor one of the biggest wins in recent program history.
The final buzzer had long since sounded, but the arena still buzzed with residual energy as the Peak University team filed back out of the locker room and down the corridor toward the court for final handshakes and departure formalities.
The home crowd, though disappointed, remained loud. Velaris Crown’s student section had spent halftime whipping itself into a frenzy, and the chant of "PEAK SO WEAK!" still echoed sporadically through the arena, albeit with far less conviction than before. At this point, it felt less like trash talk and more like a coping mechanism.
Unable to celebrate a basketball victory, the Crown students clung to memories of their recent football win over Peak, trying to salvage some sense of superiority from the evening. Every few minutes, the chant would rise again from scattered pockets of the stands, as if reminding themselves that they had at least won one battle between the schools.
For Peak’s supporters, however, the message landed differently. Football belonged to Crown. Basketball belonged to Peak. As far as the visiting fans were concerned, that made tonight a draw in the rivalry and judging by the scoreboard overhead, Peak had earned the more satisfying half of it.
Stan walked at the center of the group, jersey damp with sweat, muscles still humming from the intensity of the game. As they emerged onto the floor, his gaze swept first toward the Peak cheer section.
Sophie had already abandoned any pretense of staying in formation. She strode across the court with single-minded purpose, the focused, completely uncaring determination of a woman who had spent two and a half hours screaming her lungs out for her man and had decided the cooldown period for claiming him publicly was officially zero.
She reached him in seconds. Without a word, she rose onto her toes, grabbed the back of his neck, and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss right there on the court. It was unapologetically public, her soft lips moving hungrily against his, full breasts pressing firmly into his chest through her cropped top, her body molding against him with raw emotion.
The remaining Velaris Crown crowd reacted with a collective mix of groans, whistles, and one delighted yell from a girl in the front row: "GO STAN! GO STAN!" clearly a new convert.
Sophie pulled back, eyes shining with pride, love, and possessive joy. Her ponytail was a mess, cheeks flushed. "That’s my man," she declared breathlessly.
"That’s me," Stan replied with a small smirk.
"THAT’S MY MAN!" she said softly, turning toward the stands with zero shame, claiming him in front of everyone.
Maya arrived moments later. She didn’t kiss him, not yet, but planted herself firmly at his other side, sliding her hand possessively along his arm in the unmistakable public claim of someone who had been doing romantic scenes on screen and refused to let Sophie take all the spotlight. "You were incredible out there," she said, voice thick with admiration and a hint of fierce jealousy. "I told you not to hold back. And you didn’t."
"It’s only natural I went all out."
"Your dunk was amazing," she said softly, eyes wide with excitement.
He smiled, warm affection clear in his expression.