Chapter 42: Friendship

Sylvester PoV

The seafoam-green-haired young man panted as he wiped the sweat on his chin with his shirt. His green eyes stared at the basketball.

He wanted to get stronger. His stamina was what had hurt him the most during tryouts.

As he knelt down to pick up his ball, his legs throbbed. He couldn't help but wince.

"Water," Sylvester muttered to himself, his voice hoarse. He forced his stiff legs to move, walking over to his discarded water bottle. He unscrewed the cap and took a long swig, the cool liquid providing some relief to his parched throat and aching muscles.

He stared at the basketball lying a few feet away. He had been practicing for an hour, pushing his limits in an effort to improve his stamina. But he still felt weak.

As he was taking another gulp of water, a familiar figure entered the court. Wilt, his red hair as vibrant as ever. Sylvester almost choked on his water in surprise.

"Hey, Sylvester," Wilt called out, making his way over. He had a basketball tucked under his arm and a friendly smile on his face.

"Wilt," Sylvester managed to reply after clearing his throat. Despite Wilt's reputation as a top player and their difference in skill levels, Wilt still considered him a friend.

"Practicing hard, I see," Wilt said, glancing at the sweat-soaked shirt clinging to Sylvester's body.

He nodded and sat down on the concrete floor. "Yeah, but I still go a long way to go until I become as good as Drew and you."

Wilt set his own ball down and took a seat next to Sylvester. "It's not just about being good," he said, his tone earnest. "It's about the passion you bring to the game. And from what I can see, you've got plenty of that."

Sylvester looked up, meeting Wilt's gaze. There was a sincerity there that he didn't expect. "Thanks, man. But passion doesn't make up for lack of skill."

Wilt shrugged, a small smile on his face. "Maybe not, but it's a start. Skill is something you can build over time. Keep at it, and you'll get there."

Sylvester took another sip of water, considering Wilt's words. "I hope so. I really want to make the team next year."

"You will," Wilt said confidently. "Just keep pushing yourself. And hey, if you ever want to practice together, just let me know. I could use a good challenge."

The offer took Sylvester by surprise. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course," Wilt replied, standing up and offering a hand to help Sylvester to his feet. "We're friends, right? We look out for each other."

Sylvester accepted the hand, pulling himself up. "Thanks, Wilt."

Wilt smiled. "No problem. Say, wanna get lunch?"

He smiled weakly. "I kinda stink right now. Oh, but I could cook us something in my dorm once I finish showering."

"Sure! Just give me the number and I'll catch up in a few."

Sylvester nodded, giving Wilt the number to his dorm before heading off. His legs felt like jelly, but the thought of taking a cool shower and grabbing lunch with Wilt was enough to keep him going.

Once he reached his dorm, Sylvester wasted no time in stripping off his sweat-soaked clothes and stepping into the shower. The cool water was a balm to his aching muscles, and he let out a sigh of relief as he allowed it to wash over him.

He took his time in the shower, letting the water soothe his tired body. Once he was done, he dried off and changed into clean clothes. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast.

Just as he was about to start cooking, a knock sounded at the door. Sylvester quickly went to open it, revealing Wilt on the other side.

"Hey, Sylvester," Wilt greeted, a friendly smile on his face. He held up a bag. "I brought some snacks. I figured we could munch on these while you cook."

Sylvester couldn't help but laugh. "Sounds like a plan. Come on in."

Wilt blinked as he stared at the paper mache statue in the table.

"Don't touch that. It's Drew's."

"Eh? Your dorm mate is Drew?"

Sylvester nodded. "Yeah."

"He doesn't treat you badly, does he?"

Sylvester shook his head. "No. But he does keep his distance. I think he likes to stay alone."

Wilt frowned. "Can't imagine liking behind alone."

"It's not too bad. But I can see how a super extrovert like you would think that."

He chuckled. "I get have some alone time, but staying away from everyone? Yeah, that sounds like torture. Although, Drew did talk to me the other day."

"He did?"

Wilt huffed and crossed his toned arms. "Yeah. We even ate some sushi together. At first it went well, then he told me my friends held me back in high school. The dumb jerk."

Sylvester frowned. "That is harsh."

He nodded. "Yeah. I don't think he cares about pushing others away as long as he is the best."

Sylvester leaned against the kitchen counter, his thoughts drifting to his own experiences. Unlike Drew, who seemed to prefer solitude, Sylvester had always craved the company of others. Throughout secondary school, he had often felt on the fringes, watching groups of friends with a mix of envy and longing.

"I was the opposite," Sylvester said, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "I always wanted to be part of a group, to have friends to hang out with after school, you know?"

Wilt frowned. "Must've been tough, feeling like you're on the outside."

Sylvester sighed, a small smile forming as he thought about how far he'd come since then. "But I guess we all find our way eventually. Here I am, making lunch with a friend I met only a few days ago."

Wilt grinned, clapping Sylvester on the shoulder. "And you'll make friends soon enough."

The warmth in Wilt's words bolstered Sylvester's spirits. He might not have been the most outgoing person, but he was slowly building the connections he had always yearned for.

"Thanks, Wilt. That means a lot," Sylvester said, feeling a sense of belonging that had eluded him for so long.

He laughed. "Don't mention it. So, what are we eating?"

"Was thinking about making pasta."

Wilt smiled. "Sounds great. Need any help?"

"Sure," Sylvester replied, motioning towards the bag of groceries he'd picked up earlier. "Could you rinse the tomatoes and basil?"

Wilt nodded, heading towards the sink. Sylvester watched him for a moment, appreciating how easily he fell into the rhythm of the task. He turned his attention back to the pasta, adding a generous amount of salt into the boiling water before dropping the spaghetti in.

He stirred the pasta occasionally, ensuring it didn't stick together. Meanwhile, Wilt had finished rinsing the tomatoes and basil and was now slicing them with surprising skill.

"You're good at this," Sylvester commented, raising an eyebrow at Wilt.

Wilt shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face. "My mom taught me. She's a chef."

"That explains it," Sylvester said, smiling. He drained the pasta, setting it aside to cool. He then took over the slicing duties from Wilt, dicing the onions and garlic while Wilt heated some oil in a pan.

The kitchen filled with the delicious aroma of sautéed onions and garlic. Sylvester tossed in the tomatoes and basil, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the white pasta.

As the sauce simmered, Sylvester turned his attention back to the pasta. He added a drizzle of olive oil, tossing it to make sure it was evenly coated. He then added the pasta to the sauce, stirring it gently to make sure it was well mixed.

The final touch was a generous grating of parmesan cheese, melting and mixing in with the hot pasta. Sylvester plated the spaghetti, the smell making his stomach growl in anticipation.

Wilt was already seated at the table, watching Sylvester with an amused smile. "You sure you're not a chef in disguise?"

Sylvester chuckled, serving some pasta onto Wilt's plate. "Nah, just a guy who likes to eat well."

Wilt laughed. "Sounds like we're two peas in a pod."

They both dug in, the silence only broken by appreciative hums. The pasta was perfectly cooked, the sauce tangy and flavorful. Sylvester felt a sense of satisfaction at the meal he'd cooked, made better by the company he was sharing it with.

"Thanks for the meal, Sylvester," Wilt said, his plate clean. "It was delicious."

Sylvester smiled, feeling a warm sense of accomplishment. "You're welcome, Wilt. Thanks for the company."

As Sylvester cleaned up, he couldn't help but feel lucky. He had good food, a good friend, and a newfound determination to improve his basketball skills. Life was looking pretty good.

Suddenly, the door to the dorm room opened, and in walked Drew. His eyes widened slightly as they landed on Wilt, an unexpected guest in their shared space. His gaze then shifted to Sylvester, lingering on the empty plates of pasta.

Wilt seemed to stiffen, his friendly demeanor faltering slightly under Drew's silent scrutiny. The room was thick with tension, the easy camaraderie from a moment ago replaced with an uncomfortable silence.

Neither Wilt nor Sylvester said anything, waiting for Drew's reaction. After a few tense moments, Drew simply turned on his heel and walked off to his room, closing the door behind him without uttering a single word.

Wilt was the first to break the silence, standing up abruptly. "I should probably get going," he said, his voice sounding strangely hollow.

Sylvester nodded, although he was frowning. "Are you sure? Was gonna make some dessert."

Wilt managed a weak smile. "It's okay. I've got some stuff to do."

Sylvester walked Wilt to the door. "See you soon?"

Wilt nodded and gave him a thumbs up.

After Wilt had left, Sylvester couldn't help but worry for the future of Kellen's basketball team. Having players with beef against one another didn't usually end well.