Love & War

1

AN: short chapter but the next are longer & more detailed.

Curry POV

The noise was deafening.

For the last thirty-six minutes, the arena had been alive. The crowd had screamed after every three-pointer, every steal, every hard foul, every moment that made it feel like we were one play away from changing everything. But now, with three seconds left in regulation, everything had gone strangely sharp and quiet in my head.

I stood at the top of the key with the ball in my hands, staring up at the scoreboard.

54-54.

Tied.

If I made this shot, we won. If I missed, we were going to overtime. Either way, the next few seconds were going to decide everything.

My teammates were spread across the floor, waiting. I could feel their eyes on me, not because they expected me to fail, but because they trusted me. That was somehow worse. When people believed in you, there was more to lose.

I bounced the ball once, letting the sound echo through the arena.
Then again.

The defender in front of me lowered her stance, ready for whatever move I was about to make. My legs were tired, my jersey was sticking to my skin, and my lungs burned from the game we had just fought through, but none of that mattered anymore.

This was the moment every athlete imagined.
The moment where everyone looked at you.

"Come on, C!"

I heard Gracie's voice from the stands before I even looked over.

Of course she was yelling.

Even surrounded by thousands of people, I could always find her voice. I almost smiled, but the defender stepped closer and I brought my attention back to the court.

Two seconds.
I moved.
A quick crossover.
One step back.
Enough space.

I had taken this shot more times than I could count. After practice. In empty gyms. Late nights when everyone else had gone home. My body knew the motion before my brain had time to think about it.

I lifted.

Released.

The ball spun through the air.

For a second, I thought it was perfect.

Then it hit the rim.

The sound was louder than anything else in the building.

The ball bounced once.

Twice.

And rolled away.

The buzzer sounded.

The arena exploded.

The other team screamed. Their bench jumped up. My teammates rushed toward the rebound even though the clock had already hit zero, and for one awful second I just stood there staring at the ball as it bounced off the floor and away from the basket.

I missed.

The thought hit me hard enough to make my stomach drop.

I missed.

Then the scoreboard flashed.
End of regulation.

54-54.

Overtime.

The crowd roared again, louder this time, because nobody was leaving yet. Nobody was done. The game was still alive, and now we had five more minutes to fight for it.