Sharks

Chapter 3 - Edward vs. Eddie

I held the ball, feeling the weight of it in my hands as Edward stood in front of me, his stance steady and eyes locked on mine. The first jab step I gave him had no effect—he hadn't even flinched. He was solid, not easily fooled, and I knew I had to take it up a notch.

I shifted my weight, gave him a second jab step, this time with more intent, trying to see if I could get any reaction out of him. Edward's eyes narrowed just a little, his body shifting ever so slightly, but he stayed disciplined. I could tell he was waiting, reading me, trying to anticipate my next move.

The court was silent except for the faint echo of the basketball as I dribbled once, then twice. The sun was just beginning to climb higher, and I could feel its warmth on the back of my neck. I kept my eyes on Edward, looking for any sign that he might be ready to take the bait.

"Come on, Eddie," I muttered under my breath, my own voice barely audible over the sound of the ball. I needed to push harder, find an opening. I dribbled again, this time stepping back slightly, gauging the space between us. Edward didn't move. He was patient—maybe too patient—and I was determined to use that against him.

I glanced at the hoop, faking a shot, and for just a split second, I saw Edward's body tense. That was it—the crack in his defense I was waiting for. I drove hard to my right, my feet pounding against the concrete as I moved. Edward reacted, sliding quickly to stay with me, but I could feel the momentum shift in my favor. I crossed over, pulling back slightly, and Edward stumbled, just enough for me to create some space.

I pulled up for a jumper, the ball leaving my hand in a clean arc. Time seemed to slow as it sailed through the air, and I watched, holding my breath. It hit the rim, bounced once, twice, and then dropped through the net. The sound of the ball swishing through brought a grin to my face.

"One-zero," I said, my voice a mix of relief and excitement.

This wasn't just about the score—this was about setting the tone, showing Edward that I could hang with him. I dribbled the ball, feeling the familiar rhythm, my eyes never leaving his. I could tell he was taking me seriously now, his stance even lower, his focus sharper.

I faked a drive, then pulled back, keeping him guessing. Edward didn't bite this time, his eyes locked on my every move. I knew I couldn't rely on just one trick—I had to mix it up, keep him off balance. I dribbled to my left, then crossed over quickly to my right, looking for any opening I could exploit.

Edward moved with me, his feet quick, his defense tight. I could feel the challenge in every step, the way he wasn't giving me anything for free. I drove again, this time pushing harder, my shoulder dipping as I tried to get past him. Edward stayed with me, his body right there, blocking my path.

I spun, pivoting on my left foot, feeling the roughness of the pavement beneath my shoe. I brought the ball up, twisting my body as I aimed for the hoop. Edward's hand shot up, trying to contest the shot, but I released it just in time. The ball arced high, and I watched as it sailed towards the basket.

It bounced off the backboard, hitting the rim, and for a moment, everything seemed to hang in the balance. Then, it dropped through, the net barely moving as the ball fell to the ground.

"Two-zero," I said, breathing heavily, my heart pounding in my chest.

Edward gave a small nod, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Alright, Eddie," he said, picking up the ball. "Let's see what else you've got.