CHAPTER 221: CHAPTER 208: ETHAN VS LUCAS (3)

The ball bounced once, twice, before Lucas scooped it up, his golden eyes narrowing. "Not bad, Ethan... but I’m not letting you keep that lead."

Ethan wiped the sweat from his brow, smirking. "Then come take it."

Lucas exploded forward, his first step sharp enough to make a bystander flinch. He sold a quick crossover to the left, then spun hard to the right. Ethan anticipated the spin, sliding with him, arms out, feet digging into the court. But Lucas’s next move was vicious, he stopped dead and pulled a lightning-quick fadeaway jumper.

Ethan leapt, arm fully extended, fingers brushing the ball, but not enough. SWISH.

"Sixteen-fifteen," Lucas announced, landing lightly, his expression cool but eyes sharp with competitive fire.

From the sideline, Louie shouted, "Don’t let him heat up, Ethan!"

Kai muttered under his breath, "Damn... that footwork."

Jeremy, however, didn’t blink, tracking every movement.

Ethan grabbed the ball, dribbling slowly at first. He locked eyes with Lucas, then took a hard step forward, baiting the defense. Lucas bit, sliding to cut him off only for Ethan to suddenly retreat beyond the arc. One step back, then another stepback three.

Lucas lunged, hand outstretched, but Ethan’s release was high and smooth. The ball arced impossibly, kissing the rafters before dropping clean through.

"Sixteen–sixteen."

The small group watching erupted with "OHHHH!" and claps, the echo bouncing off the gym walls.

Ethan caught Lucas’s faint smirk, as if he had just been given permission to push harder.

"Alright," Lucas said, bouncing the ball once, "no more holding back."

Ethan’s thoughts sharpened instantly "(Good... show me everything, Lucas.)"

The air between them seemed to tighten, every step and dribble ringing louder than before. This wasn’t just a pickup game anymore—it was a clash of pride, skill, and something unspoken between two players who refused to bow.

Lucas dribbled slowly, eyes locked on Ethan. The sound of the ball hitting the hardwood was steady thump, thump, thump but there was a different kind of rhythm to it now, one that made the spectators lean in without realizing.

"You’ve gotten better," Lucas said casually, but his tone carried an edge.

Ethan tilted his head. "Better than you expected, huh?"

Lucas’s lips curved upward not quite a smile. "Better than you should be."

With that, he shifted gears in a blur, launching into a blistering crossover, left to right, his shoulders dipping so low his hand nearly grazed the floor. Ethan kept pace, sliding his feet, not breaking eye contact.

"(He’s trying to bait me to lean in... not falling for it.)"

Lucas hesitated for half a second, then burst forward. Ethan stepped into his path perfect timing but Lucas jump-stopped, spun 180°, and went for a reverse layup under the rim.

Ethan leapt, his fingertips just missing the ball as it spun off Lucas’s hand and kissed the glass. THUNK—SWISH.

"Seventeen–sixteen."

Ethan caught the ball off the bounce, jaw tightening. "(He’s heating up. If I don’t answer back now, he’ll control the pace.)"

Dribbling up, Ethan feinted a right drive. Lucas mirrored him instantly, forcing Ethan into a tight stepback. But instead of shooting, Ethan pump-faked. Lucas went for the block—and Ethan exploded forward, crossing over mid-step, squeezing through the smallest gap between Lucas and the sideline.

"You’re not getting past me—" Lucas started, but Ethan was already airborne.

Ethan cocked the ball in one hand, switching midair to his left for a scoop layup around Lucas’s contest. The ball rolled perfectly into the net.

"Seventeen–seventeen."

Lucas landed, giving Ethan a sharp glance. "You’re starting to piss me off."

Ethan grinned, breathing hard. "Good. I want you angry."

Lucas took the ball back, his dribble suddenly sharper, more deliberate. He inched forward, scanning Ethan’s stance. Then tap, tap two quick crossovers before launching into a hesitation dribble that made Ethan’s knees twitch. Lucas saw the micro-shift and attacked.

He barreled forward, but Ethan recovered instantly, forcing Lucas to improvise jumping into a hanging floater with his body leaning away.

"(If I jump straight, he’ll arc it higher... wait—)" Ethan lunged diagonally, hand extended. His palm brushed the ball but not enough. SWISH.

"Eighteen–seventeen."

Ethan caught the inbound and exhaled. "(One point. I’m not letting him get to nineteen first.)"

He took Lucas head-on, dribbling hard with his right before planting his foot and spinning left. Lucas was ready cutting him off instantly. But Ethan didn’t stop he pivoted again, backing Lucas down with raw strength.

Lucas planted his feet. "You think you can bully me inside?"

Ethan answered with action two hard bumps, a fake hook shot, and then a sudden fadeaway jumper off his left foot. The release was clean, the arc high.

The ball sliced the air SWISH.

"Eighteen–eighteen."

The gym echoed with the sound of sneakers skidding and hearts pounding. Both players stood still for a second, staring each other down.

"Next one decides the pace," Lucas said flatly.

"(Then I’ll make sure it’s mine.)" Ethan thought, gripping the ball tighter.

The court felt like it was vibrating. Every breath, every footstep echoed louder than it should have. The ball was in Lucas’s hands, and his golden eyes gleamed under the gym lights. His stance was low, his dribble sharp, the sound of rubber smacking hardwood like a ticking time bomb.

Lucas thought(If I can break him here... it’s over.)

Ethan stayed in front, knees bent, arms wide, reading every twitch of Lucas’s shoulders. A bead of sweat slid down Ethan’s temple but never reached his jawline before he lunged.

Lucas feinted left Ethan didn’t bite. Lucas exploded right Ethan slid with him.

Lucas muttered under his breath "You’re reading me too well..."

Ethan smirked "Then you’d better stop being predictable."

Lucas suddenly spun, his body rotating like a whip. His right hand scooped the ball behind his back, left hand catching it mid-spin. He rose for a jumper from the elbow, his form perfect.

Ethan thought (Not enough.)

He sprang up, fingertips grazing the ball just enough to alter its flight. The shot hit the rim—CLANG!—and ricocheted high. Ethan landed, turned, and snatched the rebound with one hand.

The gym erupted in noise.

From the sideline, Louie yelled, "TAKE HIM, ETHAN!"

Ethan took two slow dribbles backward, almost to the arc, eyes locked on Lucas.

Ethan said "Your turn to chase."

He faked a drive, froze Lucas with a lightning-quick hesitation dribble, then powered left. Lucas slid Ethan switched hands mid-stride, going behind the back to cross to his right. Lucas’s balance broke for a split second, and that was all Ethan needed. He planted, rose for a pull-up midrange jumper.

The ball flew perfect rotation SWISH!

19–18.

The gym was buzzing now, teammates on both sides gripping their shorts in anticipation.

Lucas caught the inbound, chest heaving, but there was no fear in his eyes only fire. He dribbled slow at first, like a predator circling prey. Then, with a sudden burst, he attacked. His crossover was razor-sharp, slicing past Ethan’s hip.

Kai gasped:"He’s got him!"

But Ethan turned on a dime, chasing from behind. Lucas planted hard, spun, and leapt for a fadeaway. Ethan’s hand shot up too late.

SWISH!

19–19.

Brandon thought: (Even Lucas has to dig this deep against him... damn Ethan, you’re more of a genius than anyone here.)

Ethan caught the ball, feeling the weight of the moment.

The gym went silent. Ethan dribbled, pacing, eyes narrowing like a hunter. Lucas mirrored his every step.

Ethan drove right Lucas blocked it. Ethan spun left Lucas stayed glued. Ethan pump-faked Lucas didn’t jump.

Then Ethan grinned.

Ethan whispered:"Checkmate."

He shifted the ball low, exploding forward. Lucas swiped empty air. Ethan rose for a high-arcing floater that sailed over Lucas’s fingertips, the ball spinning like it knew it was destiny.

SWISH!

20–20.

The gym erupted cheers, stomps, even a whistle from somewhere in the crowd. And both players? They just stood there, grinning at each other, knowing this battle wasn’t over

To be continue