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Clay dropped his bag onto the floor with a deft thud as he entered his apartment. Things had just gotten more complicated and complicated and his simple mind needed to process. Dragging his feet as he walked into the apartment, Clayton collapsed onto his couch and propped his aching lower half onto the coffee table. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to text Cat and let her know he was home. It was funny how quickly he and his new lady had fallen into this kind of routine. Whatever time Clay got home, be it midnight or seven am, he would always message Kitty and let her know that he was home safe and secure. Her concern made his heart flutter. Maybe she would come over when she woke up? He could do with the company.

It had been over a month since the last Decker letter. Chief Broadus, Sly, everyone said they had stopped. Yet Clay’s brief reunion with Jamie proved otherwise and now they were targeting David. Allison was one thing but Duke? Everybody knew his dirty laundry, what he did. What else was there to know? How many secrets did this Decker kid have? He put his head in his hands and let out a muffled yell because the silence was deafening. [color=BCDD81]”Alexa? Play Spotify”[/color]

As the dulcet tones of Motley Crue’s Vince Neil exploded through the speaker, Clay glanced at the photo on the wall of him and his own crew, including the infamous David. It was a photo taken on the last night that they were all together, their last night of innocence before the outside world finally corrupted them. It was a day of triumph and heartbreak, a day in some ways, Clay would rather soon forget because of what it meant. He closed his watering eyes and drifted into memory. 

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[right]December 4th, 2016
Pinehurst Academy’s Basketball Court
Celtics VS Monarchs Championship Game[/right]

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[color=darkgray][indent][indent][color=bf755c]“You hear that? That’s an entire town whose hopes and dreams are resting on your shoulders, boys.”[/color]

Coach John O’Hara had once worn the same green and white jerseys that his players were currently adorned in. This was enemy territory. This was Pinehurst: home of the Monarchs. And this was rivalry week. Days of pranks and violence were all about to come to an end through four quarters, thirty two minutes of basketball. [color=bf755c]“The girls have already warmed them up. They’ve got their trophy. Now it’s time for us to bring it all home.”[/color]

Coach placed his hands one hand on his hip and lifted the brim of his cap with the other to survey his dynamite team. Francis Callahan, the most talented point scorer in Edenridge history. Rhett Cleary at center, the top defensive player in the division. Russell Lord, the best small forward John had ever coached. There was Clay Costigan, a versatile player at power forward with an uncanny three point rate and then there was David; his own baby boy. Davey took a bad fall in a game earlier in the season, and suffered a broken rib. John was worried about playing his son for the full game which was why he had called up Danny Belmonte from the freshman squad as back up. 

[color=bf755c]“For most of you, this will be the last rivalry game you ever play. It’ll be the last time you’re all together in this environment. Soak it all in, gentlemen. Let me ask you something--”[/color] John looked at the boys: each of them their own men, with their own personalities, with their own goals, dreams and their own destinies. This game, no matter how much he bigged it up and pushed it forward, was just that: a game. A particle of dust in the infinity of space. [color=bf755c]“Why do you wanna win this? Right now, every one of you tell me: why do you wanna win this game?”[/color]

Francis stood up-- the leader, as he always was. [color=288FC6]“I want to win this for you, Coach. You gave us everything, made us who we are, made us good men. This one's for you.”[/color]

Russell followed and folded his large arms across his chest. [color=C69BB8]“I’m doing it for these guys beside me, these soldiers on the battlefield. We have an enemy we have to destroy and I can’t do it alone.”[/color]

Coach turned his steely gaze to Rhett, arguably the quietest of his players. [color=bf755c]“What’cha got, twenty one? Why do you want to win?”[/color]

Rhett cracked his neck before focusing in and firmly giving his response, [color=ff5d22]“It’s not worth winning if you can’t win big, right? I want to take it home, Coach.”[/color] Cleary was aware that this was only a stepping stone to get where he needed to go. To the rest of the world this was just another game but to him and his friends? This was the end of a chapter and the start of the next. Might as well go out loudly and proudly. It wasn’t about the trophy. It was about the feeling of all of them achieving greatness together, like they’ve done for years. This game was sacred to his team and he would make sure to protect what they had, at all cost. 

Clay brushed his hands through his long silky hair and grinned from ear to ear; the goofy sort of grin that had been his trademark for years. Before he opened his mouth, the Coach placed a hard foot on one of the nearby benches, the loud rattle of the bolts cracking beneath his step causing the boys to jump. [color=bf755c]“No jokes, sixteen, or I swear to God my foot is going up your ass and out of your mouth. Try kissing all the girls then, kiddo.”[/color]

Taken aback a little bit (only a little), Clay looked at his teammates, his brothers, the four boys he had known since diapers. [color=BCDD81]“I just want to do something good, something meaningful. It’s a game, sure, but then out there, it’s a little hope. A little something they can be proud of when our town goes to shit.”[/color]

[color=BFA65C]“Fuck me, Clay, you gotta stop with that shit. People will start to think you’re a good guy.”[/color] David got to his feet. He was arguably the most rebellious of the Elite but he had good reason. Being the son of the town's beloved coach was tough enough as it was; but actually playing for him was another kettle of fish altogether. [color=BFA65C]“I saw you last night with Sawyer Steen, that certainly wasn’t nice.”[/color] David looked to his father, whose vein was beginning to bulge beneath his cap, which usually meant he was annoyed or the dog had gotten into the trash again. [color=BFA65C]“We want to win, Coach, because it’s what we’re supposed to do. We’re players, we throw the ball around, it goes in the hoop and we win. It’s not about fame or fortune or glory. It’s just about the game and having fun.”[/color]

The redness that had risen in Coach’s face had subsided as he listened to his boy talk. He was right, maybe he had done this speech before. [color=bf755c]“You got it in one, Davey. It’s about fun. You want to win because it’s fun. You want to play because it’s fun.”[/color] The elder man looked to the youngest boy in the room, little Danny Belmonte. He made his way over to him and knelt down to his eye level. [color=bf755c]“Danny, wherever you go in life, whatever you do, whoever you love, remember this feeling. Remember these boys. They are all good men and something to aspire to be. At the end of the day, this is not about winning. The game is not about throwing a ball around, it’s about having fun and growing as a person. So, you wanna win with us, twenty seven?”[/color]

The Italian boy was awestruck. He had listened to the Elite, the goddamn Elite, speak through their hearts, never hesitating with anything they said. They knew what they wanted and who they were going to be. They knew who they were and they all had this incredible synergy that any young lad would want to aspire for. They were determined, motivated, and full of vigor! They were amazing. Bringing his eyes from the coach to Clay, Rhett, Russ, David, and then Francis, a shy yet lovable smile rose on Danny’s face, [color=005d9e]“Yeah! You guys are the best and I want to be the best, so let’s do this. Let’s win!”[/color] This was exciting. Even if he was benched for the whole game, he would have a blast because he had front row seats to watch the Elite in their element. Honest to God, a dream of his, achieved.

Coach rose up to standing again as the PA system burst into life. [b][i]LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOUR EDENRIDGE CELTICS![/i][/b] Followed by the voice was the heavy riff of the Celtics signature [url=https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=7RoP1uXIdwM]walk out music.[/url] Coach pulled his hat down and looked at his team. They were all good boys. [color=bf755c]“They’re playing our song, boys. It’s time to do work. No luck but what you make.”[/color]

[h3][center][b][color=#BFA65C]“[/color][color=#A5A26D]N[/color][color=#8C9E7F]O[/color] [color=#5A96A2]L[/color][color=#4192B4]U[/color][color=#288EC5]C[/color][color=#409BBA]K[/color] [color=#72B5A3]B[/color][color=#8AC297]U[/color][color=#A3CF8C]T[/color] [color=#C69BB8]W[/color][color=#CE92A2]H[/color][color=#D6898D]A[/color][color=#DE8077]T[/color] [color=#EE6E4C]Y[/color][color=#F66537]O[/color][color=#FE5C22]U[/color] [color=#B65C45]M[/color][color=#915C57]A[/color][color=#6D5C68]K[/color][color=#485C7A]E[/color][color=#245C8C]![/color][color=#005C9E]”[/color][/b][/center][/h3]  
The Elite yelled in unison as they followed their leader out of the locker room and down towards the tunnel to the basketball court and their Pinehurst enemies.[/indent][/indent][/color]