Chapter 11: Class Meeting Team Draft
The next morning, the blackboard in 11th-Grade Science 2 was covered in scribbles. At the very top, bold letters announced: DRAFT CLASS MEETING BASKETBALL TEAM.
Kevin stood arrogantly at the front of the class, rolling a black marker between his fingers. “I’ve already put together the five starters. I’m point guard, Dimas is shooting guard, Rian is small forward, Budi is power forward, and Tio is center.”
Nayla had just set a report folder on the teacher’s desk when she marched over to the blackboard. She read through the list of names, then shook her head firmly. “No way, Kev. Cross out Tio and replace him with Rey.”
“What?!” Kevin stared in shock, the marker nearly slipping from his hand. “No, no way! Tio’s been practicing with me since the beginning of the semester!”
“Did you forget Tio sprained his ankle at that out-of-town court?” Nayla cut in bluntly, folding her arms across her chest. “Do you want our class to lose in the first round just because you’re too proud to let him go?”
“Rey’s the new kid, Nay!” Kevin snapped, his voice rising an octave. “He might not fit our strategy!”
“Which strategy?” Rey’s flat voice cut in from the back row.
Rey casually walked toward the blackboard, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at Kevin’s draft.
“The strategy where you always carry the ball yourself to the three-point line, then force a layup while surrounded by three defenders?” Rey continued calmly.
“That’s called dominating the area!” Kevin barked in his own defense, his face suddenly turning bright red. “Don’t act like you know everything about tactics!”
“I agree with Rey,” Dimas called out from where he was sitting on top of a desk. “At practice yesterday, Rey’s passes were more accurate than Tio’s. Besides, Tio’s leg is still wrapped.”
“Dimas! Are you my friend or his?!” Kevin complained, pointing the marker at Dimas.
“I’m a friend of 11th-Grade Science 2 who wants to win the Class Meeting trophy,” Dimas replied casually, without a hint of guilt.
“Statistically speaking,” Aris cut in without looking up from his notebook, “our class’s efficiency goes up thirty percent when Rey’s on the court. Simple math, Kev.”
Kevin felt himself getting more cornered by the second. He looked at Nayla, who was still standing there with a demanding expression. “Nay, you’re the Class President. You’re supposed to support the captain’s decision! Besides, Rey’s the new kid. Our play might not mesh!”
“That’s what practice is for, Kevin! I’m the Class President, and I want the best team on the court,” Nayla shot back firmly. “Our goal is to win the Class Meeting, not provide a shelter for your pride, Kevin.”
“I’m not being prideful!” Kevin shouted immediately.
“If you’re not, write Rey’s name down right now,” Nayla said, holding out the blackboard eraser.
Rey chuckled softly beside her. “If the Captain is afraid I’ll steal his spot, I can sit on the bench. But don’t blame the team when our class falls far behind on the scoreboard tomorrow.”
Those words were like gasoline poured onto a blazing fire. Kevin spun around and roughly crossed out Tio’s name, sending chalk dust flying, then wrote REY in huge capital letters on the blackboard.
Scratch! Scratch!
“Happy now?!” Kevin huffed, glaring sharply at Rey. “You’re on the starting lineup! But watch yourself—if you make even one mistake on the court, I’m benching you that same second!”
“Understood, Captain,” Rey replied casually, a faint smile curling across his lips. “Just make sure your passes don’t miss and end up in the bleachers.”
“You...!” Kevin clenched his fists, holding back his rapidly rising temper.
Nayla clapped twice to end the argument. “Okay, the draft is final! Kevin’s captain, Rey’s in the starting lineup. Practice this afternoon on the concrete court!”
Rey walked over to Kevin and stopped in front of him. “Don’t let the team captain make the wrong move.” Rey gave him a faint smile that Kevin found incredibly annoying.