“Then let me stay on the floor.”
“Then be smarter than mad.”
Their center ran by us again and said, “That’s your boy, Vale? Soft as your girl.”
Kane surged.
I shoved him back into myself hard enough to stop the momentum.
“Look at me.”
He did.
Barely.
Good enough.
“You want to answer him?” I said. “Rebound everything. Wall up. Make him score over air. Don’t talk.”
Kane swallowed once.
Then nodded.
Coach, from the sideline, yelled, “You done?”
Kane didn’t look away from me.
“Yeah.”
Coach pointed to the floor.
“Then earn your minutes.”
We did.
Or tried to.
The last four minutes felt like drowning upright.
Tie game under four.
I hit a pull-up from the elbow.
They answered with a back-door layup.
Jalen took a charge that made our bench lose its mind.
I kicked to Kane for a dunk that nearly tore the rim off and the whole arena tilted in our direction for one shining second.
Then Barnes hit from the wing.
Tie again.
Under a minute, Coach called clear side for me.
The floor opened.
Everything narrowed.
