After school
The gym buzzed long before tryouts officially began.
By the time Serena reached the bleachers—with Lucien strolling ahead like he owned the place—the seats were already filling up. Word had spread fast: Lucien Reed was trying out.
Girls crowded the front rows, whispering excitedly, phones already out. Serena chose a seat near the middle, arms crossed, expression carefully blank.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered.
Lucien glanced back, grinning. "You came anyway, Elise."
She shot him a glare. "You dragged me."
"Same thing."
Damien Carter jogged onto the court with the other candidates, bouncing a ball easily. "Coach is serious today," he said. "No slacking."
Lucien rolled his shoulders, loosening up. "Good. I hate boring games."
Serena rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt.
The whistle blew.
Tryouts began with basic drills—dribbling, passing, footwork. Lucien took the court like it was a stage. His movements were fluid, confident, almost lazy, but every bounce of the ball was precise.
The first drill was speed dribbling through cones.
One by one, players went. Some fumbled. Some rushed.
Lucien stepped up last.
The moment the whistle blew, he moved.
The ball became an extension of him—switching hands mid-stride, weaving through cones without slowing down. He spun past the final cone and flicked the ball behind his back before stopping.
The gym erupted.
Serena sighed. "Show-off."
But her eyes followed him anyway.
Next came passing drills. Lucien read the court effortlessly, delivering sharp chest passes, no-look passes, even a risky bounce pass that landed perfectly in Damien's hands.
Damien laughed. "You trying to impress someone?"
Lucien glanced up at the bleachers—straight at Serena.
She immediately looked away.
The shooting drills were worse.
Lucien lined up at the three-point line, spinning the ball on his finger once before shooting.
Swish.
Another shot.
Swish.
He moved farther back.
Swish.
Each basket was met with louder cheers. Girls squealed. Phones flashed.
Cassandra Vale appeared near the court, arms folded, eyes gleaming with interest. "He's incredible," she said to no one in particular.
Serena didn't respond.
Then came scrimmage.
This was where Lucien stopped holding back.
The ball tipped, Damien passed to Lucien—and the game ignited.
Lucien sprinted down the court, dodging defenders, cutting sharply to the left. He faked a pass, pivoted, and drove straight to the basket.
Dunk.
The sound echoed through the gym.
Serena's jaw tightened. "Unbelievable."
He stole the ball on the next play, sprinted full court, jumped—and twisted midair, laying the ball in effortlessly.
The coach's whistle blew sharply. "Reed."
Lucien stopped, breathing easy. "Yes, Coach?"
"Again."
Lucien grinned.
He played harder—faster breaks, sharper pivots, a perfectly timed alley-oop from Damien. Sweat darkened his shirt, muscles flexing with every move.
Girls were losing it.
"Oh my God—did you see that?" "He's insane!" "I think I'm in love."
Serena crossed her legs, unimpressed on the surface.
Inside? Her heart wouldn't shut up.
Lucien glanced at her again mid-game, smirked, and deliberately made the next shot harder—spinning around a defender and shooting blind.
It went in.
He pointed at her afterward.
She scoffed. "Childish."
When the final whistle blew, the gym was buzzing like a beehive.
Lucien jogged off the court, hair damp, breathing steady. Girls immediately surrounded him, holding out towels and bottled water.
"Lucien!" "Here—take mine!" "You were amazing!"
Cassandra stepped forward confidently, offering a chilled bottle. "You must be exhausted."
Lucien didn't even look at it.
Instead, his gaze locked onto Serena.
He walked past Cassandra, past the others, straight to where Serena sat.
He reached out—and took Serena's water bottle.
He drank deeply, Adam's apple bobbing, then grabbed her hand towel, wiping his face casually.
The gym went silent for half a second.
Serena stared at him. "You're unbelievable."
He leaned in, voice low and teasing. "Thanks for watching, Elise."
Cassandra's nails dug into her palm.
Lucien straightened and held out his hand. "Let's go. Evie will be waiting. And we're having dinner with your parents."
Serena hesitated.
Then she took his hand.
And the whispers exploded behind them.
Back at home, Serena was greeted warmly by Evie, Richard, and Margret. Dinner passed in easy conversation, Lucien teasing lightly, Evie giggling, Serena trying to ignore the lingering weight of the day.
Finally, she climbed into bed, curling up under her blankets, reflecting on the whirlwind of the day.
Elise, she thought bitterly. Why can't I just be Serena today?
Her eyelids grew heavy, the memories and encounters of the day weaving together. And despite herself, she fell asleep with the faintest pull in her chest—a pull she knew had nothing to do with dreams and everything to do with him.