Out of Bounds

23

Shiloh arrived at their house and greeted the servants as he stepped inside. His expression was calm, but there was still a trace of last night lingering in his mind.

When he woke up earlier, Archer had already left the villa. Shiloh didn’t bother messaging him. He went straight to the bathroom, took a quick shower, and got dressed. After grabbing a light breakfast, he headed to Stathmore.

When he arrived, he parked his car and made his way toward the gymnasium.

From a distance, he immediately noticed a crowd forming. His teammates were gathered around someone.

As he got closer, he saw Cyan in the middle—looking awkward and a little scared as everyone kept talking over each other.

"Hey, let him breathe," Shiloh said firmly as he stepped in, pushing a few of them aside.

The group immediately gave space. Cyan let out a small sigh of relief the moment he saw Shiloh.

"Shiloh," he whispered. Shiloh glanced at him, then at the others.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"As part of his community service, Cyan will be assigned as the basketball team’s assistant," Kayden answered, crossing his arms casually. Shiloh glanced at his friend, then nodded slightly.

"Now, come along, brothers," Kayden added, gesturing for the rest of the team to move.

One by one, they followed him, leaving Shiloh and Cyan alone. Shiloh turned his full attention back to Cyan.

"Really? You’re assigned here?" he asked.

Cyan nodded and clasped his hands together nervously.

"Y-Yes," he replied softly. Shiloh studied him for a moment.

"They aren’t bothering you, right?" he asked.

Cyan quickly shook his head and gave a small smile.

"No, they were all nice. It’s just that…" he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

Shiloh understood.

The attention, pressure, and the stares. He reached out and gently patted Cyan’s shoulder.

"It’s alright. I get you," Shiloh said, his tone softer now. "My teammates are all nice. Just tell me if someone bothers you… because I’ll punish them myself," he added.

Cyan blinked, then slightly blushed at his words, nodding quietly as he held onto that reassurance.

Coach Torres arrived just as Shiloh stepped away from Cyan, leaving him to organize the team’s things—towels, water bottles, and sports drinks lined neatly on the bench.

Cyan moved quickly, carefully arranging everything. He made sure every bottle was filled, every towel folded. From time to time, he glanced at the court, making sure the coach could see him working.

Cyan wanted to do well. Even if it was just as a team assistant, he wanted to stay. He wanted to be here. He wanted to see Shiloh.

"Okay, let’s play!" Coach Torres called out, clapping his hands once to get everyone’s attention.

The team immediately gathered around him, their focus shifting from warm-ups to the next phase.

"You’ve already done your drills—shooting, passing, footwork," Coach Torres continued. "We’re running a full scrimmage," he added. The players nodded, energy building again.

"Same starting five as yesterday," he added, glancing at Shiloh. "The rest, rotate in every five minutes. I want speed, communication, and smart plays. No sloppy passes," he added.

"Yes, Coach!" they answered in unison.

Shiloh grabbed a quick sip from one of the bottles Cyan had prepared before jogging onto the court. Their eyes met for a brief second, and Cyan straightened a little, feeling a small sense of pride. The players quickly split into two teams.

"First to twenty-one," Coach Torres said. "Losers run suicides," he added. A few groans echoed, but they all got into position.

The ball was tossed.

The game began.

Shoes squeaked against the polished floor as players moved fast—calling plays, setting screens, driving through defense. The intensity rose immediately, each possession fought with effort.

"Defense! Defense!" Coach Torres shouted from the sideline.

Cyan stood near the bench, watching closely, his hands clasped together. Every time the ball went out or a player called for water, he was quick to move, doing his job without hesitation.

On the court, Shiloh moved with focus—passing, cutting, and taking shots when the opportunity came.

The scrimmage wasn’t just practice anymore. It felt like a real game.

After they were done, Shiloh and the rest of the team were panting heavily, sweat dripping down their faces as they tried to catch their breath. The intensity of the scrimmage had clearly taken its toll on everyone.

Cyan quickly moved from one player to another, distributing sports drinks and bottled water. He made sure no one was left out, handing them over with both hands, a little more confident now compared to earlier.

"Here… drink up," he said softly.

Coach Torres gathered them again, his expression firm but satisfied.

"Good work," he said, nodding once. "But don’t let it get to your heads. You still have a long way to go," he added. The players straightened, listening closely.

"The Governor’s Cup is just a few months away," he continued. "And if you want to beat the Brighton Raptors, you need to push yourselves harder than this," he added. A few of the players exchanged determined looks.

"Yes, Coach," Shiloh answered firmly.

"Alright, hit the showers," Coach Torres said, waving them off.

The boys immediately broke formation, some of them shouting and laughing as they ran toward the locker room like children finally dismissed from class.

"Cy, can I get another one, please?" Kayden said, raising his empty bottle with a grin. Cyan nodded quickly and handed him another.

"Thanks," Kayden said before jogging off to join the others.

Shiloh stayed behind for a moment, sitting on the bench as he stretched his legs, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

"You alright, Cyan?" Shiloh asked, glancing up at him.

"Yes," Cyan replied, giving a small smile. "It’s good here. Do you practice every day?" he added. Shiloh nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "Now that the Governor’s Cup is near, we’re practicing like hell every day," he added. He leaned back slightly, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension.

"We want to take the championship from Brighton. They’ve held it for years," he said, his tone more serious now.

There was determination in his voice—clear and unwavering.

Cyan watched him for a moment, quietly taking in how focused he looked, and somehow felt even more certain that he wanted to stay and be part of this team, even in the smallest way.