Dale Denton | The Legacy | Rookie Year

[Captain Canada]

that was insane.

Layers like an onion

[The JZA]

dale on draft night

Agent, Him on any given day. Phone bill in his name.

that was insane.

Layers like an onion

Captain Canada, Y'all had ol' boy lined up like he was Agent

[The JZA]

Chapter IV: Boys Being Boys Pt.I

A week slid by since that night at Clarissa’s crib. Shit still replayed in Dale’s head on loop, like a highlight reel he didn’t ask for. The flashing lights, her ex laid out on the floor with paramedics swarming him, Clarissa holding onto him like he was her anchor in a storm. He ain’t leave her side ‘til her moms finally drove in from Oregon, and even then, walking away felt dirty—like leaving her exposed to the demons circling her. Clarissa dipped out with her moms for the week, just a couple bags tossed together, gone until the smoke cleared.

Left Dale to sit with the weight of it all.

The silence in his dorm felt louder than any crowd he’d ever played for. Practice, film, weights—none of it drowned out the memory of her shaking voice when she’d called him.

And Addy? That whole situation was another ghost sitting on his chest.

He owed her an explanation, but every text he sent fell flat. No response. Not even a “k.” He thought about sliding by her spot, but that wasn’t his style. He wasn’t the pop-up type, no matter how bad the urge twisted in his gut. One afternoon, as Dale stepped out his dorm, still fighting with himself about hitting Addy’s door, he damn near walked straight into Ezekiel.

“What’s good, fam? It’s been a minute.”

“Oh snap, what’s goodie, bro?” Dale lit up, dapping Zeke up with the kind of grip only family shared.

“What’s shaking with you?”

Zeke leaned back against the wall, easy as ever, a smirk cutting across his face. His purple tee clung to him, showing off the frame he built grinding in the gym. Dude was all laid-back vibes, but Dale knew beneath it was hunger.

“Shit, just tryna keep my head above water, you know how it is. Classes, practice, repeat. But I’m making it work. What about you? Team been looking for you.”

Dale locked his door, keys sliding into his pocket. “Same grind, bro. Books, gym, field. But I ain’t gon’ front… last week been wild. Don’t even feel obligated to speak on it.” His voice dropped low. “Been needing to get my head right, fam.”

Zeke peeped the weight behind those words. Raised a brow, nodded slow, and fell into step beside him. “Damn. Sounds heavy.” His voice carried that real concern, the kind you don’t brush off. “But I hear you, fam. Sometimes you gotta step back, do you. You sure you straight, though?” He placed a big hand on Dale’s shoulder, squeezing. “You know we family, right?”

Dale gave a tight nod. “Absolutely. I appreciate you looking out. Just some sensitive shit I’d rather forget.” He shook his head, then forced a smirk. “Anyway, what’s the play for today? Fall camp creeping up, you ready?”

Zeke’s whole demeanor lit up, eyes sparking. “Hell yeah, I’m ready! Been counting the days. Bout to show the world what I’m working with. We unstoppable this season, watch.” He rubbed his hands together, competitive fire radiating off him.

Dale laughed, shaking his head. “We been unstoppable, fam. Sixteen and O', national champs. Still don’t feel real.” He tried to bury the heaviness pressing on him in the glow of last season.

“Still the beginning,” Zeke shot back, voice edged with determination. “We ain’t just a one-hit wonder. Gotta prove it again. And me?” He tapped his chest. “Got my own goals to crush.”

“No doubt. You next up, bro. Held it down as third last season. I told you, just keep grinding, you gon’ shine. I’m glad you stayed here at Washington.”

Zeke’s grin stretched wide, confidence dripping. “Damn right I staying. Easy choice. Best city, best squad, best energy. And yo, couldn’t leave my boys.” He clapped Dale on the back hard. “Family first. And truth? You the reason I stayed. You gave me something real to believe in. Now I'm just lookin' to get a bigger piece of the action.”

Dale cracked a grin, nudging him. “Look at you getting all sentimental and shit.” He shook his head. “But real talk, same here. Glad to see you ready to roll this season. Yo—you seen Trey around? We was supposed to shoot hoops yesterday but he ghosted.”

“Nah, I ain’t seen that lil’ fucker.” Zeke snorted. “Probably somewhere chasing pussy or bingeing anime. You know Trey. But he better not miss no more practices. Coach on his head this season. Ain’t no room for games.”

“Facts. Coach trying to keep the momentum alive. Can’t even blame him.”

They kept walking toward the quad, the air thick with the smell of fresh cut grass and the low buzz of campus life. Just as they turned the corner, a familiar voice cut through.

“Yo, yo, yo! Speak of the devil.”

Trey popped up, grinning like he’d been summoned. Baggy hoodie, headphones dangling, cocky energy that always made him look like trouble personified.

“Ayo, Trey! Where you been, man? We was just talking about you!”

Zeke’s voice carried, big and booming. He stepped off the wall, his long strides cutting through space. Dale trailed behind him, quiet but already sizing the kid up. Trey had that same nonchalant bounce in his walk, chin high, grin cocky like he just got over on somebody. Zeke folded his arms across his broad chest, muscles popping through his purple tee, eyebrows cocked. “You missed another practice, fool. You lucky Coach ain’t out here tryna snap your neck.”

Trey laughed it off, light as ever, and slapped Zeke in the chest like he was swatting a fly. “Ayo, ease up, big fella! I was busy. Had to handle some important business, you feel me?” He winked, grin slick as grease. “Matter fact, I was just about to hit up Dale for a quick game. Sorry about yesterday, homie. Had to blow off a lil’ steam before the season starts.”

He turned that grin on Dale, confident like his excuse was golden.

Dale gave him a crooked smile, but it ain’t reach his eyes. “About time you got some play. So who’s the unlucky girl that had to deal with you?”

Trey cheesed, flashing all teeth. “Aw, you know I can’t reveal my roster. A real ladies’ man never kisses and tells. But let’s just say—shorty was tall, petite, and knew how to work the sheets.” His grin spread wider, cheeks rising like he was reliving it in real time.

The words hit Dale sideways. His face stretched long, almost disbelief. He stopped walking, looked dead at Trey. “Deadass, you bust down Addy??”

Trey blinked, just for a second, then smirked like it rolled right off him. “Addy who? Never heard of her.” He waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t keep tabs on every chick I smash. That’s too much paperwork. But yeah—anyway, let’s ball.”

Dale cut a glance to Zeke. Zeke stared back, eyebrows raised, reading the storm building behind his boy’s calm. Trey kept grinning, puffing his chest, acting like the court was his stage.

Something about him was different today. Too loud. Too confident.

They hit the gym...

Sweat glistened under the lights as Zeke dribbled up, sizing Trey like prey. His crossover was clean, feet light for a big dude. “Aight, lil’ man, you talk a big game…” He faked left, crossed right, left Trey scrambling. Zeke rose, smooth jumper, wet. Swish. He smirked, wiped sweat off his brow, and nodded at Dale. “This fool think he all that.”

Trey’s jaw tightened. He dropped into defensive stance, eyes burning. “Oh it’s on now, big boy.”

Next play, Trey snatched the ball and attacked the rim. Quick. Aggressive. But before he could finish, Dale came out of nowhere, blocking the shot clean. He grabbed the rebound like it belonged to him and barked out loud: “Y’all talkin’ all that shit and forgot about me.”

Trey squared up, grinning mean.

Dale’s eyes narrowed. A couple hesi-dribbles, then he drove, chest first. Collided with Trey, lifted, and posterized him viciously.

Trey hit the floor hard, air punched out of him.

“What the fuck?!” Trey shot up, rage written all over him. “You put your goddamn elbow in my chest!” He stepped up in Dale’s face, nostrils flaring.

Before it popped, Zeke slid between them, hands out. “Yo! Chill the fuck out. Friendly game. Dale ain’t mean it.”

He turned, checked Dale’s face, but Dale wasn’t giving nothing up. Just stone cold. Zeke looked back at Trey. “Save that energy for the field. You straight? That looked ugly.”

Trey rubbed his chest, grimaced but tried to play it off. “Fuck… yeah, I’m good.” He stepped back, still glaring. “Just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“My bad, Trey.” Dale said, tone flat, apology fake as counterfeit bills. “Didn’t know you was the whiny type. Thought you was a baller.”

Dale checked the rock back. “Ball up top.”

Trey grinned, fire back in his eyes.

“Whiny type? Nah. I just don’t usually get posterized by my own teammates.” He crossed into a stepback, jumper off glass. Cash.

He smirked at Dale. “Uh huh. Run it back. I’m just getting started.”

And just like that, the run turned 1-on-1.

Pride on the line now. Zeke stepped aside, arms folded, eyes gleaming like he was watching a pay-per-view fight. “Damn, these two actin’ like primadonnas,” he muttered, half-amused.

Trey was quick, low to the ground. His 5’8” frame let him dance under Dale’s defense, pulling up for threes, hitting floaters. Score ran up fast. Dale’s lungs burned, sweat pouring, but Trey was talking every bucket. “Yeah, you need to stick to football,” Trey spat, smirk curling mean. “You paper maché on the blacktop.”

Zeke eyed Dale. His boy was gassed, chest heaving, but eyes sharp with something dangerous.

Trey stepped closer, finger jabbing at Dale. “Don’t feel good being humiliated like a punk, huh? Maybe if you spent less time chasing skirts and more time working on footwork, you wouldn’t be out here getting cooked, hoe.”

Zeke bristled, ready to check him. But Dale lifted a hand, cold smile on his face.

“Let him have this one, Zeke. Ease up. He won.” Dale’s voice was calm, but his glare was icy, promising something Trey couldn’t read.

“Good game, Trey. You got it.”

Trey puffed up, bouncing the ball lazily, grin stretching. “Appreciate it, QB. Let me know when you want some more smoke. I got buckets all day.”

Zeke shook his head. Trey was acting different. Too reckless with the disrespect. But Dale? Dale had already pieced it together. He knew why Addy wasn’t answering his calls. And if Trey thought this was over—he was dead wrong.

Payback was a motherfucker...

[redsox907]

I mean he left her high and tight to go chase his own tail - don't hate the player hate the game.

Problem was - he chased tail that already had a man

Never thought I'd see the day our boy be simpin

[The JZA]

I mean he left her high and tight to go chase his own tail - don't hate the player hate the game.

Problem was - he chased tail that already had a man

Never thought I'd see the day our boy be simpin

redsox907, From "superhero" to "simping". This audience is fickle as shit

[Agent]

that was insane.

Layers like an onion

Captain Canada, Y'all had ol' boy lined up like he was Agent

[Soapy]

welcome to the novella gang

[The JZA]

that was insane.

Layers like an onion

Captain Canada, Y'all had ol' boy lined up like he was Agent

Agent,

welcome to the novella gang

Soapy, Been here family, just been streamlining so far. I'ma drop depth here and there until we're further along, fasho.

[The JZA]

Bump

[The JZA]

Bizzump