WHEN YOU DON'T QUIT

“KAI M.”

The letters were peeling at the corners like they were tired of waiting for him.

Kai stood in the empty school hallway long after basketball practice had ended. The bouncing echoes were gone. The laughter was gone. Even the janitor had passed him twice already with that look adults give when they think a teenager is carrying a thunderstorm inside his chest.

Three months earlier, Kai had been the loudest player on the court. Fast feet. Sharp passes. Big dreams. People used to say things like, “That boy’s going places.”

Funny how quickly people stop saying that once you begin losing.

First came the injury.

Then the missed exams.

Then the scholarship rejection email that arrived at exactly 2:14 a.m., glowing cold against his face in the dark.

“We regret to inform you…”

Four words. Yet somehow heavy enough to flatten an entire future.

After that, Kai disappeared quietly.

He stopped showing up to practice. Stopped replying to messages. Stopped drawing...