Heavy breathing and footsteps resonate through the empty park. My gaze is focused as I watch her carefully. Sweat begins to form on her brow, which she fiercely wipes away with her arm. She dribbles skillfully, her body low to the ground as she bounces the basketball. As she begins to move, I reach my hand out for the ball, but she quickly retreats, thwarting my attempted steal.

            “Yah. Heo YoungJi, you’re pretty good,” I say.

            She returns my compliment with a sly smile, moving further backwards. With her position now outside the three-point line, she jumps. Her wrist flicks as the ball arcs beautifully, finding its way effortlessly into the basket.

            “That’s two,” she says.

            She walks past me, her arm brushing against mine as she retrieves the basketball. Getting into a defensive position, she passes the basketball to me. Although she’s a girl, her presence defends the basket as if she were a ten-foot tall man. Her arms spread wide, waiting for my attack. Competiveness radiates through us both. I quickly move forward, dribbling to the right side of the key. In attempt to show off, I hastily perform a jump shot. Out of the corner of my eye, I see YoungJi jump high. She powerfully swats the basketball from midair. The ball smacks against the ground, sounding like a gunshot. My eyes shoot to YoungJi as gravity pulls her back to earth.

            “That’s all you’ve got, Wang Jackson,” she says provokingly. Her eyes meet mine, and the tension becomes heated.

            My chest pounds wildly as I see her y eyes bare into mine. I aggressively remove my shirt, leaving me in a tank top.

            “I’m not going easy on you anymore Heo YoungJi,” I say, throwing my shirt aside.

            “I don’t think you can afford to,” she says boldly.

            I feel my face twitch at her words. Our eyes remain connected as I move to stand under the basket, my arms and legs settle in a defensive position. My breathing escalates as I carefully watch her. The urge to win is clearly written on her face. She moves fast towards my right, but I move faster. My hand comes in contact with the ball, but she skillfully turns her body protecting the ball. Her back is against my chest as I hover over her. My body presses against her back as she looks for an opportunity to score a basket. Her hair tickles my neck as she presses back against my chest. Surprised by the strength in her push, I lose my footing. I step back slightly, giving YoungJi enough room to shoot. My own competiveness burning, I jump and hit the ball off course. The ball hits the backboard. YoungJi places her hands on her knees, catching