The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the entire campus. It was the first day of Foundation Week, the most anticipated event of the semester. Students, teachers, and staff had been preparing for weeks, and now, the day had finally arrived.
Dylan and Flynn stood at the entrance of the campus, dressed in their basketball jerseys. The air was filled with the sound of chatter, music, and the rhythmic pounding of feet on the pavement.
"I didn't expect Foundation Week here to be this grand," Dylan said, eyes taking in the buzzing campus.
"In all my years at this school, this is the first time I'm actually joining in," Flynn replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"I told you to try it out. What's the point of staying here if you don't even experience stuff like this? Honestly, it's way bigger than my old school," Dylan said, looping an arm around Flynn's shoulders.
"Yeah... you're right. Thanks for pushing me. That's what you wanted to hear, isn't it?" Flynn teased lightly.
"Good luck to us," Dylan said, giving him a confident nod.
"Good luck," Flynn said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He'd gotten used to Dylan's affectionate behavior, but it still made him feel a little uncomfortable at times.
They arrived at the event hall where the opening ceremony was about to take place and joined their respective departments.
Everyone clapped as the school director stepped forward to give his formal speech. Clearing his throat, he smiled warmly at the gathered students and faculty.
"Good morning, everyone," he began. "It is my pleasure to welcome you to this year's Foundation Week — a celebration of our school's spirit, talent, and unity. Over the coming days, you will see creativity, teamwork, and sportsmanship at their finest. I encourage each and every one of you to participate wholeheartedly, support your peers, and make the most of every event. Let this week be a reminder of how far we've come together and how much more we can achieve as a community. Now, let the festivities begin!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, the energy electric, as the director stepped back, signaling the start of the much-awaited parade.
After the ceremony, everyone made their way toward the track and field, where the parade of banners and floats was ready to kick off. The open space buzzed with excitement as each department lined up, their colors vibrant under the morning sun.
The Star Department led the parade, their banner shimmering with constellations and a glowing emblem of a rising star — a symbol of excellence and ambition. Following them, the Sports Department showcased a dynamic banner filled with athletes mid-action, streaks of red and blue creating the illusion of speed and power. The Regular Departments kept it simple and classic — banners neat and straightforward, the department names boldly printed on clean backgrounds, exuding quiet pride amidst the more extravagant displays.
But the real showstopper came from the Creative Arts Department. Their float was a literal masterpiece: a massive sculpted replica of a famous painting, with students in elaborate costumes standing proudly atop it, waving to the crowd.
"Now that's a banner," Dylan commented, raising an eyebrow as he looked at the float.
"Yeah, I guess some people just don't know how to chill," Flynn replied, shaking his head.
As the departments paraded through the field, it was impossible not to glance at Flynn and Dylan. Dylan's arm was slung possessively around Flynn's shoulders, drawing attention to their closeness. The two basketball players looked effortlessly handsome in their jerseys, and a few girls in the crowd whispered and giggled as they passed by.
"Look at them," one girl whispered to her friend. "They look like a couple."
The other girl nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah... do you think they're actually dating?"
"I hope so. They're perfect together," she replied, and the two girls giggled, hearts fluttering at the sight.
Flynn let out a sigh, clearly frustrated. "Dylan, stop it. They're gonna think we're dating."
"I don't mind," Dylan said with a grin, nudging Flynn with his elbow. "Let them think what they want."
"Great," Flynn muttered, rubbing his temples. "I'm never going to live this down."
Dylan couldn't help but feel a little giddy. He loved how Flynn reacted to the attention. He loved how much it irritated him. But it was all in good fun.
After the parade, students roamed around the campus, exploring colorful booths filled with food, games, and student-made crafts. The entire place buzzed with laughter and music — the perfect prelude to the competitions that would follow. But Dylan and Flynn decided to skip the festivities for now, choosing instead to head back and prepare for their upcoming game.
Soon, the basketball elimination rounds began. The first match was between the Star Department and the Sports Department. As expected, the Sports Department easily dominated the game and took the win. It was now time for Dylan's team, the Regular Department, to play against the Creative Department. Flynn, as a sub-player, he stayed on the bench.
Dylan, however, was focused. He was in his element—basketball was where he felt most alive. As the game started, he immediately took control.
The basketball court was his sanctuary, and the hoop was where he belonged. He shot the ball, made a layup, then another three-pointer. Each time, he glanced over at Flynn, trying to gauge his reaction. He didn't know why it mattered so much to him, but it did.
Flynn, for his part, couldn't help but feel a little flustered every time Dylan looked his way. He'd see those flirtatious glances, the little smirk on Dylan's face, and he couldn't help but feel his face heat up. There was something about the way Dylan was looking at him—something that made his heart race.
Dylan was on fire. His team was winning, and he was hitting shot after shot. With every point he scored, the crowd cheered, but his eyes were only on Flynn.
By the time the game ended, Dylan's team had won easily. The score was impressive, and most of the points came from Dylan himself. As the team celebrated, Dylan made his way over to Flynn.
"Nice game!" Flynn said as he handed Dylan a bottle of water and a towel.
Dylan grinned, wiping the sweat from his neck. "I played that well so you wouldn't have to. I don't want you getting tired," he teased.
Flynn rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. "So all that training I did was for nothing, huh?"
"Haha, don't worry," Dylan chuckled. "You'll get your chance in the finals for sure."
Flynn glanced toward the scoreboard, thoughtful. "You think we can handle the Sports Department? Their team's got some tall players. You saw how they crushed the Star Department earlier."
Dylan smirked, tossing his towel over his shoulder. "Height doesn't win games. Trust does. And I trust our team."
The elimination round finally came to an end. The finals were scheduled for Wednesday, while tomorrow's match would decide the third and fourth spots.
As Dylan and his teammates packed up and started heading out of the gym, a chorus of high-pitched cheers erupted from the stands.
"Dylan! Nice game!"
"You're so cool!"
"Look here, Dylan!"
Flynn raised an eyebrow, glancing at him with mild amusement. "Looks like you've got quite a fan club now."
Dylan shot him a smug grin. "You jealous?"
Flynn snorted. "Why would I be jealous?"
"Don't worry," Dylan said, stepping closer and looping an arm around Flynn's shoulders, "you're the only one I'm looking at."
The crowd of girls immediately screamed louder, some even pulling out their phones to take pictures.
Flynn's face flushed crimson. "Yah! Get off me!" he hissed, quickly shrugging Dylan's arm away and walking ahead to escape the attention.
Behind him, Dylan just laughed — completely unbothered and, if anything, proud of himself.