Fergus didn’t shrink beneath Jaime’s stare or search for an excuse to escape the game now that the challenge had been accepted.
A year earlier, he probably would have lowered his head and walked away rather than willingly place himself opposite someone who had already humiliated him once, but the boy standing on the court now had spent an entire summer trying to ensure that wouldn’t happen again.
Jaime had been one of the biggest reasons Fergus remembered his first basketball tryouts so painfully.
While Fergus had arrived desperately hoping to earn a place on the under-thirteen team, Jaime had entered the gym looking like he belonged there and eventually earned a starting position once the team was selected.
Unfortunately for Fergus, they had spent enough time matched against one another during tryouts for Jaime to expose nearly every weakness in his game.
Whenever Fergus attempted to shoot near him, Jaime seemed to get a hand on the ball.
One particularly embarrassing attempt had been swatted several metres backwards, earning laughter from some of the boys watching from the sideline.
Passing hadn’t gone much better because Fergus telegraphed where he wanted the ball to go, allowing Jaime to repeatedly jump into passing lanes before Fergus even realised they were open.
By the end of the session, Fergus had been completely boxed in and became so afraid of making another mistake that he stopped trying to create anything, which only made him an even greater hindrance to the practice team he had been assigned.
Jaime and his friends hadn’t allowed him to forget what happened afterwards.
The nickname “Flimsy Fergus” had started during those tryouts and followed him for much of the year, usually accompanied by reminders that he hadn’t been good enough to make the team.
Sometimes the bullying went further than insults.
Fergus had been deliberately tripped in the corridor, shoved around and forced away from the basketball court whenever Jaime and his friends decided they wanted to use it themselves.
Fergus had hated them for it, although what hurt most was that some part of him had believed what they were saying.
He really had been terrible at basketball, and every failed attempt to stand up for himself had only given Jaime another opportunity to prove it.
That was why the game mattered more to Fergus than Arthur or William could possibly understand.
This wasn’t simply a lunchtime three-on-three with tomorrow’s lunch hanging on the result.
Fergus wanted to know whether all those hours spent practising had actually closed any of the enormous gap that had existed between himself and Jaime.
He didn’t need to dominate him.
He simply wanted to prove that Flimsy Fergus wasn’t the same player anymore.
“Who’s starting with it?” William asked as both teams moved into position.
Jaime tossed the basketball towards Fergus.
“They can.
Wouldn’t want Flimsy making excuses afterwards.” Fergus caught the ball cleanly and resisted the temptation to respond.
He stepped beyond the three-point line instead and bounced it towards Jon for the check, receiving it back a moment later as the game began.
Jon was approximately the same height as Fergus and played a similar position, although the comparison hadn’t been particularly flattering the previous year.
Jon had made the team while Fergus hadn’t come close, but Fergus felt surprisingly little nervousness when his former tormentor settled into a defensive stance in front of him.
Arthur was already moving.
The smaller guard darted towards Fergus as though coming for a handoff, catching Finn momentarily asleep.
Fergus turned his body to protect the basketball while Arthur curled tightly around him, effectively using Fergus as a screen before taking the handoff.
By the time Finn reacted, Arthur had already created enough separation beyond the arc to rise into a shot.
The basketball climbed high towards the basket before banking off the backboard and dropping through.
2 – 0 Team Fergus.
Arthur backpedalled with an enormous grin while Fergus laughed and moved to retrieve the ball.
“Good shot, Arthur.
You absolutely meant to use the backboard there, didn’t you?” “Obviously.
Perfectly calculated.” Jaime glared towards Finn.
“Guard up.
Don’t just let him walk into another one.” They checked the ball again, and Fergus found himself in almost exactly the same position.
Arthur immediately recognised it and moved towards him for another handoff, although Jon was ready this time and stepped aggressively towards Arthur’s path, intending to fight over Fergus before the handoff could create another open shot.
For a moment, Fergus considered giving Arthur the ball anyway.
Then he noticed the space directly in front of him.
Perimeter Pest had spent the past month teaching Fergus about defensive positioning, but understanding how defenders were supposed to move had also made it easier to recognise when they made mistakes.
Jon had committed too heavily towards Arthur and opened a clear lane towards the basket.
Fergus faked the handoff and drove.
Jon continued towards Arthur before realising his mistake, leaving Fergus with a step of separation.
He accelerated into the lane, but Jaime immediately rotated away from William in the corner to protect the basket.
For the briefest moment, Fergus remembered the previous year’s tryouts.
He remembered Jaime swatting his layup backwards and the laughter that had followed, but instead of carrying the basketball directly towards the same defender again, Fergus gathered before Jaime could close the distance.
Tear Dropper.
The ball left his right hand and climbed above Jaime’s outstretched arm.
Fergus watched it descend towards the basket, strike the front of the rim and bounce upwards before rolling softly through.
3 – 0 Team Fergus.
Fergus stared at the basket for half a second longer than necessary.
It was only one point in a lunchtime game, but he had actually scored against Jaime.
Arthur gave him an approving nod as they reset while Jaime regarded Fergus with considerably more interest than before.
“Well, this is interesting.
Flimsy learned a new trick.” Fergus felt the old irritation rise, although there was considerably more confidence behind his answer this time.
“You might want to guard it next time.” William laughed loudly enough that Jaime’s expression hardened.
The next several possessions belonged almost entirely to Fergus’s team.
Arthur was comfortably their best outside shooter, and Finn struggled to stay attached to him whenever William or Fergus provided a screen.
William created a completely different problem around the basket, where his five-foot-seven frame gave him an enormous advantage against Jon and Finn whenever he established good position.
Fergus didn’t force himself into the scoring during the run.
He kept the basketball moving, set screens and made simple passes whenever Arthur or William found space.
A month earlier, he might have tried to prove he belonged by forcing difficult shots, but the System had begun teaching him enough about basketball to understand that contributing to a possession didn’t always mean being the player who finished it.
Another outside shot from Arthur eventually stretched their advantage to nine unanswered points.
9 – 0 Team Fergus.
Arthur jogged backwards with a pleased smile.
“You’re awfully quiet now.” Jaime’s jaw tightened.
“Game isn’t over.” He proved that almost immediately.
Arthur missed a fading three after curling around an off-ball screen from William, allowing Jaime to collect the rebound and clear the basketball beyond the arc.
William took responsibility for guarding him, but Jaime attacked without hesitation.
A sharp change of direction created half a step before he exploded through the opening and finished softly against the backboard.
He attacked William again on the following possession and reached the rim for another easy finish.
When William adjusted by backing away slightly to protect against the drive, Jaime used a dummy screen from Jon, followed it with a hesitation crossover, and rose into a long mid-range jumper.
The basketball dropped cleanly through.
9 – 3 Team Fergus.
“That’s more like it,” Jaime said as his confidence returned.
“Stop playing scared, and we’ll run through them.” The following possession gave Fergus his first proper defensive test when Jon received the basketball at the top of the key and immediately attacked towards his right.
Before acquiring Perimeter Pest, Fergus’s instinct would have been to turn his hips too early and desperately chase after the ball handler, but now he lowered his stance and slid laterally instead.
Jon changed direction, and Fergus stayed with him.
There was nothing spectacular about the defence.
Fergus didn’t steal the ball or force Jon onto the ground, but he remained between his opponent and the basket long enough that Jon became frustrated and swung the basketball towards Finn in the corner.
Arthur recovered and raised a hand, but Finn released the shot anyway.
The ball barely disturbed the net.
9 – 5 Team Fergus.
Arthur grimaced as he watched Finn backpedal.
“All right, apparently he can shoot.” Jaime made matters worse on the next possession.
William contained the initial drive and forced him towards the side, but Jaime suddenly planted his foot and stepped beyond the arc.
William recovered quickly enough to raise a hand, yet the basketball still sailed over his contest and dropped through.
9 – 7 Team Fergus.
Jaime backpedalled with a grin.
“Careful now, lads.
Wouldn’t want to blow that lovely lead.” Arthur stared at him as though seriously contemplating violence.
“Don’t punch him,” William warned while moving towards the check.
“I wasn’t going to.” “You were absolutely thinking about it.” Arthur ignored him and focused on the game.
Jaime attacked William again soon afterwards, clearly expecting to exploit the same speed advantage that had produced several easy baskets.
He drove hard towards the rim and created enough separation that another layup appeared inevitable, but his confidence caused him to underestimate how quickly William could recover.
The taller boy chased him from behind, taking several enormous strides before launching himself just as Jaime released the ball.
William’s hand met it cleanly.
The basketball flew out of bounds, drawing an immediate reaction from the students who had begun gathering near the court.
William landed and looked towards Jaime with a satisfied smile.
“You were saying?” Jaime cursed under his breath as he collected the ball.
From there, the game settled into a rhythm neither side could completely control.
Fergus’s team would build a small advantage through Arthur’s shooting or William’s size, only for Jaime to drag his own side back into contention.
Finn remained dangerous whenever he was left open, while Jon contributed by moving the basketball and attacking whenever Fergus gave him too much space.
Fergus’s influence was quieter but considerably more important than it would have been the previous year.
He scored another close basket when William found him near the rim, helped Arthur create space with screens and collected several rebounds that prevented Jaime’s team from immediately attacking again.
Jon still managed to get past him on occasion, proving that Basic Understanding of Perimeter Pest hadn’t transformed Fergus into an impenetrable defender, but Fergus was no longer an easy target who could be attacked on every possession.
The runs continued until neither team had any meaningful advantage remaining.
18 – 18.
Game tied.
By then, the casual lunchtime match had attracted a small audience.
Several students stood around the edge of the court watching, and Fergus could feel the difference in atmosphere as both teams realised that the next few possessions would decide everything.
Fergus received the ball beyond the arc with Jon guarding him closely.
Rather than attempting to create something himself, he swung it towards William and moved into the corner, giving the taller boy space to attack Jaime one-on-one.
Jaime defended him well.
William tried to use his size, but Jaime stayed close enough to prevent an easy shot, and the pressure gradually drew everyone else’s attention towards the basketball.
Fergus noticed Jon glance away.
It lasted barely a moment, but that was enough.
He cut hard from the corner.
Jon reacted late and found himself trailing as Fergus accelerated towards the basket.
William spotted the movement immediately and fired a bounce pass around Jaime, sending the ball through the opening before the defence could close it.
The pass came faster than Fergus expected, and he barely managed to control it before reaching the basket.
Finn had already started rotating across, making a normal layup increasingly dangerous, so Fergus continued beneath the rim and attempted a right-handed reverse.
The basketball struck the backboard and landed on the rim.
Fergus watched helplessly as it circled once before continuing around for a second rotation.
It somehow remained above the cylinder long enough to begin a third before finally tipping inward and falling through.
19 – 18 Team Fergus.
Arthur slapped Fergus across the shoulder as they moved back beyond the arc.
“That might be the ugliest beautiful layup I’ve ever seen.” “It went in.
That’s all I care about.” Jaime was considerably less amused.
He turned towards Jon with frustration written across his face.
“Guard your bloody man!
You can’t just stare at the ball and let him walk past you.” Jon clicked his tongue and looked away, clearly furious that Fergus had caught him sleeping.
The basket gave Fergus’s team a one-point lead and, more importantly, put them one successful three-pointer away from ending the game.
Arthur received the ball at the top of the arc while Finn crouched in front of him.
Fergus and William exchanged a glance and reached the same conclusion without needing to say anything.
Both moved towards Arthur, Fergus positioning himself on Finn’s left while William planted himself on the right.
Finn suddenly had screens available on either side.
He backed underneath them.
Arthur immediately recognised the mistake.
With Finn conceding space rather than fighting over either screen, Arthur rose into his shot before anyone else could close the distance.
The basketball left his fingertips and climbed high above the court, appearing slightly short at first before continuing towards the rim.
Everyone watched it descend.
The ball dropped cleanly through.
21 – 18.
Team Fergus wins.
Arthur threw both arms into the air as the net snapped beneath the ball.
“Game!” Fergus and William rushed towards him almost immediately, their excitement briefly making Fergus forget that they had only won a lunchtime three-on-three.
“You actually hit it!” Fergus shouted as he grabbed Arthur around the shoulders.
Arthur looked offended despite the enormous grin on his face.
“Why do you sound surprised?
Of course I hit it.” “Because it was you.” “Get off me.” William joined them and nearly lifted the much smaller Arthur from the ground.
“We’re never going to hear the end of this, are we?” “Absolutely not.
You are both going to remember that shot for the rest of your lives.” Across the court, Jaime looked considerably less enthusiastic.
His attention moved between Jon and Finn with open disgust as the two boys avoided looking directly at him.
“You two were members of this school’s under-thirteen team last year, and you’ve just lost to this lot.
How do you even manage that?” Neither answered.
Fergus might once have enjoyed watching them get embarrassed, but he found that their reaction mattered surprisingly little compared with what the game itself represented.
He had finished with four points, three assists and five rebounds.
Those numbers weren’t extraordinary, particularly in a casual half-court game, and Fergus knew Arthur and William had been more important offensively.
Arthur’s shooting had stretched the defence throughout the game, while William’s height and physical presence created problems Jaime’s team struggled to solve.
Fergus didn’t need to be the best player on the court for the performance to mean something.
The previous year, he had barely been able to function whenever Jaime guarded him.
He had been blocked, stripped and intimidated until he became afraid to touch the basketball.
Today, he had scored four points, defended without becoming a liability, contributed several passes that led directly to baskets and made the cut that produced their nineteenth point.
Most importantly, his team had won.
Arthur wandered past Jaime with an enormous grin.
“Looks like we’re getting free lunch tomorrow, lads.” Jaime turned towards him.
“You hit one lucky shot, and now you’re acting like you’ve won the NBA Finals.
Shameful bastard.” Arthur’s grin only widened.
“Ball don’t lie.” William caught the back of Arthur’s shirt before he could continue antagonising him.
“Come on.
We’ve got class, and I’d rather not spend the afternoon explaining why Arthur got murdered over a lunchtime basketball game.” The three headed away from the court together while Jaime and his friends disappeared in the opposite direction.
Fergus doubted they would actually honour the agreement and buy lunch the following day, but he didn’t particularly care.
He had beaten Jaime.
It was only one game, and Fergus wasn’t foolish enough to pretend it proved he had become a better basketball player than him.
Jaime had still been one of the most dangerous players on the court and had nearly dragged his team back after falling nine points behind.
Fergus hadn’t suddenly erased the difference between them because his team won a three-on-three game.
What he had proved was considerably more important to him.
He could compete.
The same player who had completely overwhelmed him during last year’s tryouts could no longer make Fergus disappear from the game.
Fergus had stood his ground, contributed to a winning team and walked away without feeling like he didn’t belong on the same court.
That was enough for now.
Several minutes later, Fergus stopped at the boys’ bathroom before returning to class.
He was halfway through taking a leak himself when a translucent white screen suddenly materialised directly within his line of sight, startling him badly enough that he almost created a considerably more embarrassing problem than anything Jaime had managed on the basketball court.
“What the hell!” Fergus regained control before disaster struck and glared at the System while finishing what he had been doing.
“You seriously couldn’t have waited another thirty seconds?” The System ignored his complaint.
‘Milestone Achieved: First Win.’ ‘The host has recorded their first victory in a recognised competitive basketball game.’ ‘Reward: 5,000 Hooper Coins.’ Fergus’s annoyance disappeared almost immediately.
After zipping his trousers, he stared at the reward with wide eyes.
“Five thousand?
Bloody hell, thank you.
I take back some of what I said about your timing.” The System offered no acknowledgement.
Fergus washed his hands while mentally opening the Shop, where his updated balance appeared near the top of the interface.
‘Hooper Coins: 6,000.’ For the first time since receiving the Basketball Development System, Fergus possessed enough currency to purchase a Grey skill outright.
His immediate instinct was to start searching.
There were already dozens of abilities he wanted, and having six thousand coins meant he could finally afford one of the cheaper options that had previously existed only as things to stare at.
After several seconds, however, Fergus forced himself to close the menu.
He had already learned that stronger skills became enormously expensive, and spending almost everything he owned simply because he could finally afford something didn’t seem particularly clever.
There would be time after school to look through the Shop properly and decide whether purchasing a skill was worth it.
As Fergus stepped back into the corridor, his thoughts returned to the challenge that mattered considerably more than spending his new Hooper Coins.
Tryouts were less than two weeks away.
Last year, Jaime had helped expose just how far Fergus was from making the team.
Their lunchtime game hadn’t erased that history, nor had it suddenly turned Fergus into one of the best players in school, but it had given him something he hadn’t possessed when the summer began.
Evidence that all those hours were working.
For the first time, Fergus didn’t have to simply believe he had improved.
He had gone onto the court against the boys who once made him feel like he didn’t belong there and helped beat them.
Now he needed to prove that one good lunchtime game wasn’t a fluke.