They started repying the highlights in their heads, each memory more mind-boggling than the st. "Dude, that three-pointer from downtown, with a defender draped all over him?" one guy excimed, reliving the moment in disbelief.
"And then, wait, wait, rewind to that mid-air steal! He literally teleported in front of their guy!" another chimed in, his voice rising in pitch. "And don't even get me STARTED on that no-look pass across the entire court! Did you see that?! No. Look. Pass! It was like he had eyes in the back of his head, or, you know, maybe actual superpowers!"
Each retelling just deepened the mystery surrounding James. They were wrestling with the concrete, undeniable evidence of his performance, trying to shoehorn it into their existing understanding of basketball, physics, and… well, South Asian physics, as one pyer joked, but with a sliver of genuine seriousness creeping into his tone.
It genuinely felt like the fundamental ws of the game, maybe even the ws of nature itself, were being rewritten in real-time, right there on their home court, and this James dude was holding the pen.
Meanwhile, across the gym in the Banani locker room, it was a whole different vibe. Pure, unadulterated chaos in the best way possible. Jubition was the only word for it, and even that felt like an understatement.
Shouts of pure, unhinged excitement, backsps that bordered on concussions, and high-fives that threatened to break bones filled the air. They had actually done the impossible. They had tied the game against the mighty Motijheel High, on Motijheel's own turf, after being down by a freaking THIRTY points. It was a comeback story for the ages, the kind of stuff they’d be telling their grandkids about (assuming they could still remember it through the adrenaline haze).
Kiyoshi, their captain and hype-man extraordinaire, was practically glowing, his face flushed red with pure, unadulterated joy. "GUYS! GUYS! CAN YOU EVEN BELIEVE THIS?!" he yelled over the din, his voice already hoarse from screaming his lungs out.
"WE TIED IT! WE ACTUALLY TIED IT! AGAINST MOTIJHEEL! ON THEIR COURT! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" He was fueled by pure, unadulterated victory-fvored energy drink.
Ahsan was a human vibrator, buzzing with so much energy he looked like he might spontaneously combust. He was pacing back and forth, his grin stretching from one ear to the other, threatening to split his face in two.
"JAMES! DUDE, JAMES! YOU WERE… YOU WERE… I’m officially out of words! You were straight-up legendary!" He cpped James on the shoulder with enough force to send a lesser mortal flying, shaking his head in utter, joyful disbelief. "Seriously, man, I'm gonna be talking about this game for the rest of my life!"
Sajid, still panting like he’d just run a marathon, was ughing, a loud, unrestrained, joyous sound that echoed through the locker room. "I still cannot brain that pass, James! Across the entire freaking court! No look?! It was… it was like something ripped straight out of a sports anime! Like, seriously, are you secretly a cartoon character come to life?!"
He was clutching his chest dramatically, still trying to process the sheer audacity and brilliance of that pass.
Robi, usually the stoic, silent type, the guy who rarely cracked a smile even when they won, was actually… grinning. A genuine, teeth-showing, sunshine-breaking smile. It was a rare and precious sight, like spotting a unicorn riding a scooter.
