Jin and Ren walked back over to the other courts where Noah and Tyler were still playing.
They headed to Noah's court first, but by the time they arrived, the match had just ended.
Noah was walking toward the net, racquet in hand, his shirt sticking to him with sweat. His opponent offered a tired handshake.
The scoreboard read: 8–2.
"Ayyy, nice job, Noah," Ren called out, giving him a fist bump as he approached.
"Thanks," Noah said, catching his breath. "Did you win your match?"
"Yeah," Ren replied with a proud grin, puffing out his chest. "8–1."
"Haha, nice job," Noah said, then turned to Jin with a smirk. "Although I heard Jin won 8–0."
Ren's face twitched slightly, the corner of his eye twitching. "He just got lucky," he muttered, clearly not ready to let that go.
Noah and Jin both laughed.
"Yeah, yeah," Jin said, grinning. "Let's call it 'luck'."
After catching up for a bit, the trio walked around the courts, checking out the remaining matches. Most were wrapping up, the last few players finishing their final games under the fading afternoon light.
With not much left to do, they found an empty bench on the side and sat together, trading jokes and sharing post-match stories while they waited.
Eventually, the final match ended. The entire team lined up along the fence to thank the opposing team for the good games, exchanging polite handshakes and goodbyes. Then, they began packing up their bags and preparing to leave.
Just as the team was about to disperse, Coach Ruplinger raised his voice.
"Everyone! Line up!"
His tone was sharp, firm.
The team froze. Bags halfway zipped, water bottles mid-sip, everyone scrambled into formation.
Coach stood in front of them with his arms crossed and a look so serious, even the birds seemed to stop chirping.
A nervous murmur rippled through the group.
"Did we mess something up?"
"Wait… was it because of that joke I made?"
"Am I about to die…?"
The tension rose like steam off the hot courts, until Coach Ruplinger's face broke into a broad grin.
"Relax. I've got good news."
Everyone blinked, waiting.
"Every single one of you who played today… won your match. That's a full sweep."
The team stared for a beat, stunned.
"Let's gooo!" someone shouted.
The rest of the team erupted into cheers, high-fives flying in every direction.
"Now don't get cocky," Coach added with a mock stern look. "The school we played today wasn't the toughest competition we'll face this season. But this is still an awesome accomplishment."
Everyone straightened up with pride.
"And to celebrate," Coach continued, "I've decided to take the team out for dinner."
That was all it took.
"WOOOOO LET'S GOOOOOO!!" the team exploded with joy.
"Unfortunately," Coach Ruplinger said with a slight grin, "I only have enough space and budget to take ten people with me. So… only the players who played today will get dinner. Hope this serves as a motivator for those who didn't play to step up and earn their shot."
A heavy silence fell over the team.
Then, slowly… very slowly… all eyes turned to Jin, Ren, Noah, and the others who had competed.
The look in the other teammates' eyes?
Terrifying.
A mix of envy, hunger, and mock betrayal.
Jin felt a shiver run down his spine.
He raised his hand sheepishly. "Uh… Coach? Can we leave now?"
He didn't wait for the answer. They made a tactical retreat before they were mobbed for all their belongings.
After a short bus ride, the group arrived at a well-known Italian dine-in chain restaurant. The kind with brick walls, low-hanging lights, and the scent of butter, garlic, and melted cheese wafting out the front door like a siren's call.
The moment they stepped inside, the comforting aroma of fresh parmesan and herbs hit them like a wave.
Everyone visibly drooped in relief, their empty stomachs growling in unison.
They were quickly seated at a long table by a smiling host.
As soon as they sat down, ten menus were whipped open with mechanical speed.
The silence was broken only by the sound of flipping pages and murmured deliberation.
Jin glanced through the pasta section like he was studying for a final exam.
Even though he usually preferred Asian food, there was something deeply satisfying about a warm bowl of pasta after a match.
"I'm going with the cheese ravioli," he said, setting his menu down with conviction.
Ren snorted. "You would pick the most lactose-intolerant sounding dish."
"You're just mad you can't handle dairy," Jin shot back.
Ren rolled his eyes. "Whatever, man. Chicken parmesan is elite."
"Elite at being dry," Noah chimed in, grinning. "I'm going with the same, though. I'm starving."
They all laughed.
A few minutes later, after orders were placed and drinks arrived, conversation shifted naturally as they relaxed into their seats.
They chatted about their favorite music, games, and books as they waited for their food.
Turns out Noah's favorite artist was Mac Miller, and when he wasn't on the court, he was grinding League of Legends.
"Wait… you're diamond ranked?" Jin blinked. "I've been hard-stuck platinum for months. You have to help me climb."
Noah smirked and took a sip of his drink. "Nah, just get good, man."
"Ugh, you're the worst," Jin muttered, sinking into his seat.
He turned his attention to Ren. "Alright, your turn. What about you, Ren? What do you do outside of tennis?"
Ren stared at both of them. Completely straight-faced.
"I've been… trying to pick up girls."
Jin choked on his soda. "Wait, what?"
Noah burst out laughing. "Are you serious?"
Ren nodded solemnly. "Dead serious. I refuse to be maidenless, it's my life goal"
"Maidenless?!" Jin wheezed.
"I even started reading about body language and conversation starters," Ren added, totally unbothered by their reactions.
"I thought you were quiet because you were tryna be mysterious," Noah joked. "Not because you were running silent calculations."
"I'm refining my approach," Ren said, now clearly enjoying the chaos he'd stirred. "By next semester, I'll have data."
Jin buried his face in his hands. "I can't with you. You need professional help"