Mano approached in black sweatpants and a black T-shirt.
“Hey,” Ody said.
Mano nodded.
“These are my friends. Steve and Chris.”
Mano’s gaze moved over them. Steve’s buzzcut and sharp jawline gave him a rough edge. Beside him, Chris’s blond hair and blue eyes made him look far more approachable.
Mano gave them a brief nod.
“Small world,” Steve muttered.
“What department?” Chris asked.
“Music Studies.”
Chris gestured toward Ody. “Pharmacy.”
Mano said nothing.
“Alright,” Ody said, clapping his hands. “Mano’s with us. Four on four.”
Steve looked him up and down. “Can you actually play?”
Mano met his gaze. “Yeah.”
Steve smirked. “Let’s see.”
The game started. Mano scored first. Then again. And again, though he didn’t pass much. Final score: 36 to 22.
“Didn’t expect that,” Ody admitted, grabbing his water bottle. “You’ve got range.”
“I played in school.”
“Never joined a team?”
“No.”
“I did. Since I was ten. Stopped at university.”
For a moment, something in Mano’s expression closed off, like a door shutting.
“Hey,” Ody frowned. “You good?”
“Yeah.” Mano blinked.
Ody studied him for a second, then nodded toward the court. “You were solid. We crushed them.”
“Congrats… Mano, right?” Steve stepped forward, wiping sweat from his forehead.
“Yeah.”
“Nice dunks,” he said. “Would’ve been better if you passed. It’s a team sport, you know.”
“Steve,” Ody warned.
He lifted his hands. “What? I’m not wrong.”
