The sound of sneakers squeaking echoed through the empty gym, rhythmically broken by the thud of the ball hitting hardwood. Lucas Graves' private gym had become the furnace where Vorpal Basket forged their resolve. Sweat drenched jerseys, heavy breathing filled the space, but no one slowed down.
"Again!" Ethan barked, tossing the ball back to Josh Turner. "No lazy cuts, Josh—make the defense believe you'll shoot."
Josh groaned, but his legs moved sharper this time, slicing through the lane before dishing out. Ryan Taylor and Brandon Young grunted under the weight of contact drills, their bodies colliding like iron against iron.
Lucas, grinning even through exhaustion, wiped his face with his shirt and spun the ball on his finger.
"Man, we're crazy. School's sleeping, and here we are burning what's left of our lungs."
Evan Cooper chuckled, leaning against the wall for just a second before Ethan shot him a glare. "Don't lean. Back on defense."
