Extra Basket-Chapter 60 - 47: White (3)

Location: Ridgeview Community Hospital – Room 217

Time: 3:26 PM

Date: July 4, 2010

The room was filled with light banter and warmth, something rarely found in a hospital. Four boys — Ethan, Lucas, Evan, and Louie — gathered around the recovering Aiden White, who sat up against his pillows with a slight smile, the atmosphere not heavy like before.

Louie crossed his arms and raised a brow at Ethan.

"Ethan, is your family like... herbalists or something? Seriously, you’ve been throwing out more ointments and pills than a pharmacy."

Lucas leaned forward with a grin.

"Right? That stamina pill you gave me—"

"—yeah! That one!" Louie snapped his fingers.

"Didn’t you say it came from some old man your uncle knows? Now you’re out here giving Aiden a miracle ointment too."

Ethan scratched the back of his head and laughed.

"Hahaha... sometimes, you don’t need to know the details."

He flashed them a quick, mischievous smile.

"What matters is... they work. And they’re real."

The others exchanged glances, smirking. Lucas gave him a light nudge with his elbow.

"You’re like a walking cheat code, bro."

Evan adjusted his glasses, glancing toward Aiden before shifting his gaze back to Ethan.

"Speaking of ointment... Josh might be able to play again next week."

Ethan’s eyes widened with genuine surprise.

"That’s good news."

But Evan didn’t smile.

"But if Josh returns... he was a starter before the injury. So... what happens to his spot?"

His voice was calm, but the question lingered like tension in the air.

Ethan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, thoughtful.

"Lucas and I became starters after Josh and Aiden got injured. So, if both of you are back next week, or even in the next few weeks..."

He paused, then looked at Aiden, and then Evan.

"I already have a plan. I know exactly how I’m going to fit you both into the rotation."

His voice was calm, steady. Confident.

Aiden, who had been silently listening, finally spoke. His tone was different—more grounded. Mature.

"I don’t mind sitting on the bench."

The others looked at him in surprise.

Aiden looked directly at Ethan, then at Lucas, his expression earnest.

"What’s important to me now is getting back on the court... and winning."

Then, softer, but sincere:

"I know you both. I trust you."

Ethan blinked, his gaze resting on Aiden a little longer than expected.

He was... stunned.

(He really changed after that day... maybe after watching our game against Orlando Hoops... maybe that shifted something inside him.)

Ethan’s thoughts echoed in his head, soft with wonder.

(Or maybe... it’s something deeper.)

Aiden wasn’t the same firecracker who once took every loss personally. There was humility now. Growth. Something honest in his tone that hadn’t been there before.

Lucas glanced over at Ethan and then to Aiden, a small, quiet smile forming on his lips.

"I also don’t mind being on the bench, Ethan," Lucas said, shrugging casually.

"You’re probably the one who fits best in the starting five anyway."

Ethan’s eyes widened a little, surprised again — this time at Lucas.

"No... Lucas," Ethan said firmly, shaking his head.

"You’ll be in the first five. Like I said, I’ve already planned it out. Besides..."

He leaned back in his chair and exhaled.

"It’s still a few weeks before we even need to talk about stuff like that. Let’s focus on what’s in front of us."

Then, like a spark in the room, Louie’s voice cut in:

"Oh! I know what’s next! The Thunderhawks! That all-girls basketball team. We’re gonna fight them, right?"

Evan adjusted his glasses with a sigh.

"Play, Louie. Play the Thunderhawks. Not fight. We’re not in a boxing match."

Louie scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"What’s the difference? We’re still going against them — it’s still war on the court!"

Ethan groaned softly and dropped his head in his hand.

Lucas met his eyes and gave him the same tired look — then both sighed in perfect sync.

Ethan muttered under his breath:

"We’re not fighting them, Louie..."

Then he looked around at the group.

"Let’s not get into that right now. We’ll talk more tomorrow — we still have two days before the match against them."

He smiled a little, then added,

"Right now... we just enjoy the day. Aiden’s here. That’s enough."

Everyone nodded quietly.

For the first time in a long while, it felt like... a team again.

After a few more minutes of casual chatter and laughter, the mood slowly began to shift. The clock on the hospital wall ticked forward, reminding them that visiting hours were nearly up.

Ethan stood up first, brushing imaginary dust off his pants.

"Well... we should get going."

His voice was soft, but steady.

"Hey," Aiden said, stopping them just before they reached the door.

"Thanks for coming... seriously."

Ethan turned and smiled.

"You’re our teammate, Aiden."

He lifted a hand, almost like a salute.

"That doesn’t stop just because of a hospital bed."

Lucas nodded, flashing a peace sign.

"You’ll be back on the court before you know it."

Evan placed a hand gently on Aiden’s shoulder.

"Take your time healing. We’ll be waiting."

Louie, grinning wide, leaned against the doorway.

"And when you’re back, don’t expect us to go easy on you during practice."

Aiden scoffed but smiled.

"Wouldn’t want it any other way."

The four of them stepped out one by one, the door slowly swinging closed behind them. Aiden leaned back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling for a moment, his thoughts buzzing.

(Maybe... Just Maybe I can do it)

He clenched his fist lightly.

(Not just for me... but for all of us.)

And for the first time since the injury...

He didn’t feel weak.

He felt like a player again.

.....

Outside the hospital

The cool breeze of the late afternoon swept through the open parking lot. The van doors were unlocked, the engine still off. Evan stretched his arms with a tired groan while Louie spun a basketball on his finger, humming a tune off-key.

Ethan stood a little ways off, his hands in his pockets.

"You go first in the van," he said, gesturing toward the vehicle.

Lucas raised an eyebrow.

"And where are you going?"

Ethan blinked once and sighed inwardly.

(Lucas, you nosy boy...)

"Something important coming up," he said vaguely.

Louie perked up, grinning.

"Can I go?"

Ethan shook his head firmly.

"Just go with Lucas and Evan’s van."

Louie frowned dramatically like a kicked puppy.

"Aww, come on, man..."

Evan rolled his eyes, patting Louie’s back.

"Let it go, Lou. Let the man have his mystery."

He turned toward Ethan.

"Welp, take care, Ethan."

Ethan nodded.

"You three too — take care."

The three of them nodded back, beginning to head toward the van.

Ethan turned and took a few steps in the opposite direction, his face shifting into something more serious, more determined.

(I still need to stop Aiden and Noah’s mother from giving them that pill...)

(In my past life — the novel version of Turning Point — their mother gave them the pill. At first, it seemed miraculous. Their speed, strength, endurance... everything skyrocketed. But then...)

(Over time...)

His fists clenched in his hoodie pockets.

(They destroyed themselves. Mentally. Physically. Overdosed. Collapsed into comas that lasted months... maybe forever. Their brilliance faded into tragedy.)

(I need to stop that plot — no matter what.)

"Hello? Ethan?"

Lucas’s voice pulled him back, waving his hand near Ethan’s face.

Ethan blinked, caught off guard.

"Oh, pardon me, hahaha... I was just thinking about something. Nothing special."

Lucas narrowed his eyes slightly, not quite convinced, but let it go.

Evan and Louie exchanged glances, equally confused but not about to press further.

Ethan smiled faintly and waved.

"Gotta go. Bye!"

He turned on his heel, walking away from them — not just physically, but toward something larger. Toward a mission only he knew he had to complete.

The others climbed into the van, watching him go in silence.

Lucas, eyes narrowed, whispered to himself:

"Nothing special... huh?"

The van door slid shut.

Ethan, meanwhile, disappeared into the city, steps growing quicker.

(First, I need to find her....)

...

Meanwhile... At the White Household

The door clicked softly as it opened. Panny White stepped inside, heels echoing slightly against the wooden floor. The scent of warm late afternoon air drifted in behind her before the door shut again with a muted thud.

In the kitchen, the dim light above the sink cast a glow over Noah as he stood silently, drinking a glass of water. He looked up as she entered, lowering the glass slowly.

"Noah," Panny said gently, her voice carrying a tired warmth. "How’s your brother?"

Noah set the glass down on the counter and turned toward her.

"He was good. His teammates visited him today."

Panny paused. There was a flicker of surprise in her expression.

"Aiden... has friends?"

Noah gave a slight nod, his voice neutral.

"Yep. Seems like he does now."

That silence that followed was strange. Panny’s eyes drifted away from her son — toward the dark leather handbag resting atop the side table by the entrance.

She walked toward it slowly. Her fingers tightened around the straps as she opened it. Nestled carefully inside was a small container — a plain, unmarked bottle. The pills.

Her heart began to race. Her hand trembled slightly as she stared down at them.

A memory flashed through her mind — Aiden lying in that hospital bed, Noah walking with a subtle limp he tried so hard to hide, both of them with eyes once filled with fire... now dulled by pain and doubt.

She shut her eyes.

(I just want them to be great again... to be happy. I’m their mother. If I don’t do something... who will?)

With a deep breath, she swallowed the lump in her throat and felt her hesitation harden into resolve. Whatever it took — she’d do it. For them.

Panny turned slowly toward Noah.

"Noah..." she said, her voice quieter now, layered with careful emotion.

Noah tilted his head slightly.

"Yeah?"

She held the bottle in her hand but kept it behind her back.

"I want to talk to you... about something that might help you and your brother."

Noah’s brows furrowed slightly.

"Help us?"

Panny nodded slowly, stepping forward.

"I know what you’ve gone through. The pain. The pressure. The feeling that you’ve fallen behind... and can’t catch up anymore."

Noah didn’t say anything. But his jaw tensed ever so slightly.

Panny’s gaze softened, her tone dropping just above a whisper.

"But what if... there was a way? Something that could bring back everything you once had? Your strength. Your speed. Even more."

There was a silence. A thick one. Heavy. Noah’s eyes slowly drifted to her hands, sensing something she wasn’t saying out loud.

"What are you talking about, Mom?" he asked carefully.

Panny didn’t answer right away. Her hand gripped the bottle tightly behind her back. Her heart pounded.

(Just a little longer... until I can explain it the right way...)

Then Panny White took a slow step forward, her fingers still wrapped tightly around the bottle behind her back.

"I heard from someone... someone trustworthy," she said gently, almost pleading, "about something that could help you. Something that could bring you back to who you used to be... who you should be."

Noah’s gaze sharpened.

"You’re being vague, Mom."

Panny hesitated. She could see it—the guarded look in his eyes. Noah wasn’t the kind of person you could push easily. He had always been sharp, perceptive. Even now, after everything, he still saw through people. Still calculated.

She sighed.

Then, carefully, she pulled the bottle from behind her back and held it out, her hand trembling just a little.

"These," she said softly. "They’re pills. Supplements. They help you recover. Help your body move the way it used to. Some of the best players are secretly using them."

Noah stared at the bottle in her hand. He didn’t move.

"What’s in them?" he asked calmly.

"I don’t know exactly," she admitted. "But I trust the person who gave them to me. He said they’ve helped a lot of young athletes."

Noah’s brow furrowed deeply.

"You don’t know what’s in them, but you want me to take them?"

Panny took a small step forward. Her voice cracked.

"Noah... I just—"

"Mom," he interrupted, eyes still locked on the bottle. "I get it. I know you’re trying to help. And... yeah," he exhaled, "part of me wants to believe in something like that. Something that could make me faster again. Stronger. Get me back to where I was."

There was a pause. His voice lowered.

"You think I don’t miss it? That I don’t hate what I’ve become?"

Panny’s heart ached hearing that.

"But," he continued, eyes sharp, "I’m not taking something just because someone whispered about it in your ear."

His tone wasn’t angry. It was controlled. Reasoned. But firm.

"Give me time," he said. "Let me do my own research. Talk to someone. If there’s really something in there that works without hurting us—then maybe. But not like this. Not blind."

Panny lowered the bottle, shoulders slumping.

"Noah..."

He gave a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

"I’m not saying no. I’m saying I’m not a fool."

And with that, he turned and walked past her — slow, quiet steps — up the stairs toward his room.

The silence that followed felt heavier than any shouting match. Panny stood there alone, gripping the bottle tightly again, torn between fear... and hope.

To be continue