The court surface felt rough under Luca's sneakers, the paint lines faded from years of sun and rain.
The air was cooler here, open and still, save for the buzz of the floodlights above.
Jordan tossed a ball in his hand, racket balanced on his shoulder. "Man, I forgot how quiet this place gets at night."
"Yeah," Luca said, adjusting his grip on his own racket. "It's different without the crowd noise from the school matches."
Jordan smirked. "Different's one word for it. Makes it easier to hear you curse when I win."
"You're assuming you will."
Jordan grinned. "Oh, I will. And when I do, I'm telling Noel all about it."
Luca's brow lifted. "Since when do you give him game updates?"
"Since I figured out you light up like a damn stadium when his name pops up on your phone," Jordan said, spinning the ball lazily on his fingertip. "It's… weird. In a good way. You're calmer now. Focused."
