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Chapter Text

May 2025:

"I really didn't expect this video to be the most attention I've gotten so far." I say to Azzi, who just smiles at me.

"Well you gotta admit, it is kinda funny." She laughs, and rewatches her TikTok, already garnering over 250,000 likes.

It's just a dumb little vlog, I think to myself. But internally, it takes everything in me to keep from blushing. Azzi and I have been dancing around a relationship for years now. We've never gotten together, just a lot of held eye contact, arms brushing together, those sorts of things. But now, the internet is losing its mind. "Could Paige Bueckers, one of the hottest names in women's basketball, be dating her former UConn teammate Azzi Fudd?" Funny the internet has it figured out before I do. But in order to understand if this relationship is a real thing, we've got to look far back.

2017:

Trying out for the USA Women's Basketball U16 National Team as a rising high school sophomore was at first terrifying. Even though I was already being heralded as the best girls player in my 2020 graduating class, the pressure of potentially being able to play for my country was a whole nother level of skill. One of the first things I remember was hearing this cocky, overconfident freshman describe me as "a skinny white girl." I later learned this accusation was thrown at me by a girl named Azzi Fudd, the best class of 2021 hooper in the country. I had to do something about that.

"Hey, I heard you're the one yapping about me being 'a skinny white girl.'" I state aggressively as I approach Azzi. All she does is shrug me off, which pisses me off even more. I grab her shoulder, and spin her around to face me. "I'm talking to you, Fudd. What's all this attitude about? I'm not the only girl here who fits your description, so why single me out?!" I gesture towards my target, another skinny white girl from middle-of-nowhere Iowa, named Caitlin Clark. We make eye contact, and she just gives me a look and goes right back to shooting. Azzi just keeps staring at me with an amused look on her face.

After what seems like an eternity, she finally responds. "Okay, white girl. Play me then. 1-on-1. Winner gets bragging rights." We get on the court, and everyone else clears off, making room for our battle. All eyes are on the two of us, the two best underclassmen in the country. I let her start with the ball, and as I get into my defensive stance, I know she is done for. I steal the ball from her, and make my way towards the basket for an easy layup.

"1-0 Bueckers" one of the refs watching from the sideline announces. I grin, and say "make it take it?" Azzi, visibly frustrated, just gives me a resounding grunt. Oh this is going to be fun.

7 minutes later

The ref blows his whistle, and states the final score. "Bueckers 11, Fudd 5." With the basketball in hand, I stroll up to Azzi, who, rightfully, looks embarrassed. "Here you go, Fudd. Way to put some points up on me. After letting me score 6 straight, I guess it was the least you could do."

She scoffs, and snatches the ball from my hands. "Whatever. You're still skinny. And white." I don't even respond, just smile at her and walk away.

Chapter Text

May 2025:

It's honestly cute how much Paige is blubbering on and on about our viral TikTok. It seems like everyone and their mother thinks we're in a romantic relationship, and while I would love to be, I know that it would put a lot on Paige's plate. Too much for her to handle. I'm sure she's told you all all about our first meeting, where I called her skinny and white (rightfully so) and then she cooked me in a 1-on-1 (also rightfully so). But what happened after started to make things a lot more interesting. We both made the U16 National Team, and she quickly earned my respect. Then, between our practices and games together with USA Basketball, she started to come down to Washington D.C. to visit me. Then, the most fateful time span of our lives.

April 2019:

I don't know why I can't stop thinking about it. That damn Minnesotan has no business being on my mind. The internet is abuzz. Paige Bueckers is announcing her collegiate commitment sometime today. She's picking between UConn, Notre Dame, and Minnesota. I think it's pretty obvious where she's going to go. But she won't tell me, even though we are really close friends now. Just trying to build suspense, she says. Whatever, I shouldn't care this much, what does it matt-

"BUZZ!" My phone screams with a notification. I scramble to pick it up, and when I do, I see it's a Sportscenter Instagram post. I take a deep breath, and open the app.

"Paige Bueckers, number 1 player in the class of 2020, has committed to the University of Connecticut. Go Huskies!" I can't help myself as a wide grin overtakes my face. I open up snap to message her.

"Paige, congrats on UConn! I know you're going to love it there!" I shake my head at that last part, and delete the whole message.

"Go Huskies! Go be great! I hope our paths cross in college!" Woah, Azzi, way to many exclamation marks. I scrap that one as well.

-

At this point I've been typing and re-typing the perfect message to send to Paige for about 10 minutes, and just when I'm about to send the perfect one, her bitmoji pops into the chat. I startle, realizing she's probably been getting "Azzi Fudd is typing" notifications for a while.

A chat pops up. "What's the matter, Fudd? Cat got your tongue?" I smirk, delete my message, and respond.

"More like a husky." I cringe right as I send it, but my awkwardness only seems to amuse her, as she sends the 😭 emoji. "But seriously, congrats on UConn." She begins to type out a response, but then she deletes it. I stare at the screen before being interrupted by an incoming FaceTime from none other than "Skinny White Girl." I accept.

"Azzi!" I can't explain how much that one word sounds so good coming from her lips. "Now that I'm officially a Husky, I have a proposition for you!" I use that statement to examine what I'm seeing on my screen. Her piercing blue eyes are wide with excitement, and her usually slick-back blonde hair is down, falling perfectly around her pale complexion. I look at my own face, my messy bun, and blush.

Ignoring her ominous tone, I state that "I'm so happy for you Paige. Honestly, you deserve it." To my surprise, she laughs.

"Well, I should be saying 'Congrats' to you, Miss Gatorade National Player of the Year!" Unable to stop myself, I smile.

"It's not going to be decided for another month." I answer. Which is true.

"Well, yeah, but c'mon Azzi. It's going to be you. Who else would they pick?" She gestures madly.

"You?" I respond, but it comes out in a unsure tone.

"Exactly. It's going to be you. The first ever sophomore too, by the way, congrats on that." She stops to smile, then turns back to look at me. "Look, I've got to go start packing for the 3-3 U18 Nationals in a couple weeks, which I will see you at. But, it is there where you will hear my grand proposition!"

"See you there." I say, and then hang up, the last thing I see is Paige Bueckers, smiling at me.

-

USA Basketball 3-on-3 U18 Nationals - Colorado Springs, Colorado:

When I arrive at the facility, I see Paige tying up her shoes, and I head over to her. She sees me and smiles.

"Fudd, what up? I saw we're not on the same team." She pouts, but then smiles. "I'm glad, because I'll get to cook you."

I laugh. "In your dreams, Bueckers. Yeah, I saw the rosters, and it looks like you have yet another skinny white girl on your team. Van Lith, is it?"

She wrinkles her nose. "I would've thought you learned your lesson with skinny white girls after what happened during the U16 tryouts..." She tangents off while saying the last few words, knowing that it would piss me off. It does.

"Oh yeah, you're going to play that card? I notice that our teams are playing each other later today, so, Miss Connecticut Husky, put your money where your mouth is." I stare at her, and she does the same back.

"That sounds like a bet, Fudd. And I'm a betting woman." She looks me up and down. "Loser buys winner a smoothie?"

"Now that sounds like a date, Bueckers." Her face turns beet red, contrasting with her light skin, and she drops her gaze. I smirk, trying to hide the fact that, on the inside, I feel the exact same way.

"Oh, shut up." She mumbles and turns away, and I just laugh and get ready for the day.

-

3:30 - Azzi's team vs Paige's team:

As I make my way onto the court, I spot Paige meticulously putting on and adjusting her shoestring of a headband. We make our way to the referee, who holds the coin.

"Number 63, your call." He gestures at me, and I make eye contact with Paige.

"Heads." She smirks, trying not to laugh, and I roll my eyes at her sense of humor fit more for a 12 year old boy.

"Heads is the call, and" he flips the coin "heads it is. 63, do you want to start on offense or defense?"

I want to start by teaching Paige a lesson. The only way to do that is to cook her off my first dribble. "We want the ball. Offense."

"Okay ladies, let the game begin." He hands me the ball, but little did I know how much this game would affect me, and my relationship with Paige. I take the ball and get into position at the top of the key, and look to see who is going to be guarding me. Paige, no surprise.

"Ready to go down, Bueckers?" I ask. She just grins. The whistle blows, and we're off.

"10-9 Fudd's Ball, Buecker's team up 1." The female ref announces, and I know I have to score here to keep us in the game. I cannot buy that girl smoothies and give her bragging rights (even if I made her blush by calling it a date). I start my dribble, and notice that Paige is giving me a direct lane to the hoop, I take it, driving like a madman towards the orange ring. Paige is tight on my hip, I jump for a layup, and the ball rolls off my fingers. As I'm landing, the ball goes through the net. "Tie game," is what I think, and I smile, before a noise interrupts my train of thought.

"POP, POP." The sound echoes throughout the gym, but nowhere is it louder than in my own ears. I'm laying on my back on the court, and I go to move my right leg, but all I feel is pain. A burning, excruciating, ungodly pain. The last thing I see before my vision goes black is Paige Bueckers, staring at me in disbelief.

Chapter Text

"POP POP" I hear it the second Azzi falls to the court, but my brain doesn't, no, won't, fully register it. Azzi is lying on the ground, screaming bloody murder, as the crowd begins to clear a path for the incoming trainers. Two of the trainers get to work on Azzi, while the other approaches us players.

"Can any of you girls tell me what happened?" the older woman asks us, a gentle, but worried look on her face. We all look around at each other, eyes red and watery.

I decide to speak up. "She-she was just driving for a layup-completely blew by me-and jumped up to put the ball in the hoop. When she came back down, her knee buckled and I heard two loud pops. Like gunshots, man, I-I..." I trail off, as I feel the emotions piling up inside of me. "I should've stayed beat, but my stubborn ass tried to recover, I might have knocked her off balance, I-that was so stupid of me..." again I don't finish my sentence, as the tears really start to come. The trainer nods at me solemnly, and I sneak a look at Azzi. Tears streaming down her face, we make eye contact and there's a look in her eyes that I can't place. I force myself to look at her leg, and in between the frantic movements of the trainers, I see her knee.

Oh god.

It's already swollen. I know this injury. Hell, every female athlete ever knows this injury. I don't want to think it into existence, but the moment I do, it won't leave my mind.

Azzi, my friend, who I'm trying to get to come to UConn, has torn her Anterior Cruciate Ligament, better known as her ACL. And it was all my fault.

-

I robotically push myself through that game, and one more match after that. But I can't escape the feeling that I tore Azzi Fudd's ACL. I tore her ACL during her sophomore year of high school, and thanks to me, she's going to miss most of her junior year, the recruiting year, she won't get recruited by colleges because of injury concerns, she won't get to play basketball again... The thoughts won't stop coming, and I soon grab a basketball and begin to aggressively bounce it off my forehead. I get a solid 4-5 hits in before a hand grabs my forearm, stopping me.

"Paige. Paige! Enough!" I look to who is talking to me, and I see Hailey Van Lith staring up at me. She drops my hand. "As much as I hate it, injuries are a part of basketball. Especially ACL injuries. I know it sucks, believe me, I've lost my fair share of teammates to things like this, but you've got to play through it."

I nod, wiping away tears. "Thank you." She smiles, and begins to walk away. "You're a hooper out there, you know that?"

"No shit, Bueckers. That's why I'm here." I'm glad to find sarcasm in her voice, which gives me a much needed laugh. "If you want to see her, Azzi's on the trainer's bench over there. I bet she'd appreciate it."

"Thanks Hailey." I respond, and then turn my gaze to the trainers bench, where, sure enough, Azzi lays, ice bags swallowing her knee. I swallow, and make my way towards her. However, I find myself faltering with each step. Just when I'm about to turn away, I hear my name.

"Paige." It's weak, full of emotion, but there's no mistaking who said it. Azzi. She's surrounded by numerous trainers, players, and coaches, but it feels like we are the only two people on the face of the earth.

"Azzi, hey." I say quietly, and I find myself standing next to the trainer's bench. I slowly bend over, resting my elbows on her good leg, and stare at the ice bags. I then bow my head, and begin to say a prayer. "Dear God, please take care of my girl." I choke on tears, but keep going. "She's such a great basketball player and an even better person, so could you please grant her a speedy recovery?" I look around to see that many other girls are in prayer with me, heads bowed. "Please bless her, Lord. Amen."

"Amen." The crowd states. I finally bring myself to look at Azzi, and I'm greeted with a smile.

"Thank you Paige. Please come visit me in D.C. I need your humor to get me through this." I grin.

"Of course, Azzi. That's my job, after all. Heck, I'd fly home with you right now if you want me too." She just shakes her head, smile still on her face.

"You go concentrate on winning this tournament. I'll be cheering you on." I nod, turn away, and find that my entire face is on fire.

Chapter Text

December 2019 - Washington D.C.:

The ring of the doorbell wakes me up, but I don't want to leave the comfort of my bed. I groan and roll over, but I'm interrupted by an array of knocking. I yell to my parents to answer the door, then I close my eyes. I hear the door open, and a muffled voice follows. I sneak a peek at my clock, which reads "7:48." Ugh.

"Mr. and Mrs. Fudd! It's so good to see you! Is Azzi up?" My brain registers the voice, and my heart stops. Paige. Of course. Even though I've been texting and FaceTiming her often since that fateful day in April, my body acts like she's a hot celebrity that I'm meeting for the first time. Before I can get up, my bedroom door slams open.

"What?" I say groggily, eyes adjusting to the hallway light, when the light is blocked by a six-foot tall blonde goddess. She beelines towards my bed, and I can't even get a scream out before she's landing on top of me. "Oww, Paige, what the hell!"

"Sorry!" She at least has the sense to look it as she scrambles off of me. "Come with me, I brought you some Christmas gifts!" She's way too jumpy.

"Paige, seriously, it's not even 8am. What's the deal?" I groan, rubbing my eyes.

"What?" She looks offended. "Can a girl not come visit her best friend for Christmas? With absolutely no motive other than holiday cheer?" Now she looks guilty.

"Paaaige." I draw out her name, and stare daggers into her eyes. "No motive, huh? None?"

"Absolutely zero motives. Completely motive-less." She breaks eye contact, and then grabs my hand and drags me from my bed.

"Bueckers, watch the knee." I mumble, even though my healing process is actually doing really well, all things considered. After all, a ACL tear is bad enough, but I got a buy one get one free deal by also tearing my MCL.

Her eyes narrow. "Don't act like I haven't seen clips of you running laps around Curry's girls down in Charlotte. We are definitely going to scrimmage later today. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Fine." She continues dragging me out of my bedroom and into my kitchen, where I'm greeted with a huge gift bag. I study the navy blue, white, and red wrapping paper, and then turn to glare at Paige. "Nice color choice..."

"What? It's just representative of the flag of the US-of-A!" She's an awful liar, but I don't have the heart to tell her that. She gestures at me to open it. I do, and the first thing I pull out is a beanie. More specifically, a navy beanie with unmistakable red lettering.

"UCONN." I sneak a glance at Paige, who looks giddy.

"Keep going!" She's practically bouncing with excitement, so I comply. The next item is a pair of red and black flannel pajama pants, with none other than a husky logo in one corner. I once again narrow my eyes at Paige, who has now decided to act all nonchalant. I look in the bag to see that there's one more item. A navy UCONN Basketball shirt.

"A completely motive-less visit, huh?" I ask Paige, already knowing the answer.

"Well," she stumbles, "I guess there's a tiny bit of motive." I just sigh, and she smiles. "And now you go put these on!" She shoves the gear into my hands, and I know better than to argue with a determined Paige Bueckers. I go change, and when I come back out, she already has her phone ready to take a picture. I pose, and she snaps some photos.

"Do you want to tell me what you're going to do with those?" I ask, and she just smiles.

"Check my insta story and see for yourself." I oblige, and when I click on her profile picture, I see myself in UConn gear, with the hashtag "#GetAzziToUConn."

"Well. You're awfully convincing, aren't you? You know I'm not going to decide for a while, and UCLA has been pre-etty inviting." This gets a visceral reaction out of her.

"Oh God, Azzi, you can't go to California! You're already far enough away as is!" She looks panicked, and I let her emotions run rampant for a few seconds before laughing.

"Okay, Bueckers, let me get some clothes on and let's do that 1-on-1 outside." I'm greeted with a surprised look, and I just raise my eyebrow.

"Outside?! But, it's snowing! Pretty hard!" I just sigh loudly and roll my eyes.

"Paige Madison Bueckers, I don't want to hear it. You are born and raised in Minnesota, and are going to Connecticut for college. Don't yap to me about D.C. snow!" She just mumbles something along the lines of "basketball isn't played outside," but goes to put on her basketball shoes anyway.

-

I'm winning 10-7, and if I score next, I win.

"Hey Bueckers!" I yell to Paige, who is panting and shivering. "I never got that smoothie date!" She turns beet red, and turns away. It's fun making her blush, even though I know she has the same effect on me.

"No fair! You're already winning." She harrumphs.

"So beat me then." I check it up to her, and she throws it back, with her competitive side having fully returned. I take a few dribbles, assessing her defense, and begin to drive left. She goes with me, staying attached to my side. I fake a spin move right, and she completely bites. I laugh as I continue towards the basket in my left hand, seeing that she slipped and completely ate shit. I make the layup, and go over to her. She stands up and shakes herself off.

"That damn move always works on me." She says with grit.

I laugh. "Well, you might want to learn how to guard it, if, and if, I come to UConn." That lights her eyes up, and she grins widely. I don't let her gloat for long, because I use her distracted state to grab her skinny frame and cradle her in my arms like a baby.

"HEY!" She shouts. "What do you think you're doing?" I just laugh, and carry her towards a massive snow pile in my front yard. She realizes my ploy, and starts to fight my grip, but I'm too strong.

"This is why you should lift more, Bueckers. And now you are seeing your punishment for losing!"

"No, no, Azzi, I swear, if you throw me in there." She squeaks as I drop her slightly before catching her again. "OKAY, OKAY, look! Don't do this and I'll-I'll buy you all the smoothies! All of them! Just don't throw me in ther-" Her sentence is swallowed by her face's introduction to the snow pile. I slap my hands together and admire my work, which is Paige, completely covered in snow, snarling at me.

"Good game, Bueckers. Now for those smoothies you were talking about...?" I reach my hand towards her to help her up, and she takes it. But instead of taking herself out of the snow, she pulls me in with her. I yell as the cold envelopes me as well. I look over at Paige, and she's just laughing, until she makes eye contact with me. My heart stupidly skips a beat, and I find my eyes making their way towards her lips. The rest of the world has gone silent, just Paige and I in this trance. I scoot closer to her, and to my delight, she does the same. I rest my hand on her waist, and lean in even more.

"Azzi, Paige, lunch!" Our moment is rudely interrupted by my two younger brothers, who spot us in the snow and giggle. I roll my eyes, stand up, and help Paige up. But we can't seem to make eye contact.

"What just happened?" I think to myself.

Chapter Text

November 2019:

All I really wanted was Connecticut. Who wouldn't? The famous Huskies, 11 time national champions, with the best coach college basketball's ever seen. I wanted them so bad. But they didn't want me. They already had their point guard. THE point guard, one might say, top player in my 2020 class, Paige Bueckers. I know I shouldn't feel jealous, she's a hooper, and for that I respect her. But it still sucks that the big UConn poster in my room, stuck to my wall since I was in middle school, will have to come down. But at least I've got Notre Dame. Right? I'm planning on commiting soon, in around two weeks. But my parents are taking me to Iowa City to tell Coach Bluder that I'm not going to be attending the University of Iowa. I'd rather do it via email, no-nonsense, no emotions, none of that crap. I was able to convince my parents to let me have one more tour, one more practice, and one more chance to decide if Notre Dame really is the right fit for me, or if my heart decides to lean somewhere else.

"Alright Caitlin. We're here!" My dad states. I look around as we pull in front of Carver-Hawkeye Arena, and I see a girl around my age waiting for us. Kate Martin, redshirt freshman on Iowa's basketball team. She's wearing a backwards cap and an Iowa hoodie, and when she sees me, she smiles.

"Caitlin, hi, it's so great to see you again. Thanks for giving Iowa a chance." They don't really have a chance, not with Notre Dame constantly pestering my parents, and I think she knows that. "Come on, you're rooming with me for these next couple of days." She grabs my bags, and I follow her. Martin hasn't stepped foot on the court for Iowa yet, thanks to an ACL and MCL tear the summer before her freshman year. "So the plan tonight is to grab dinner with the team, then 'hit the hay' because tomorrow we have an early shoot-around." She adds quotation marks and sarcasm to 'hit the hay,' which I assume means there's going to be some sort of party. Yippee. We arrive in front of a dorm, and Kate holds the door for me. I just nod and walk past her. "I remember how quiet you were last time, but I guess it must be a whole thing for you huh? Quiet and mysterious Miss 4th Best Player in the Country." I just shoot her a look. "Okay... anyway, here's my dorm room, you can take that bunk. Team dinner is in like an hour, so get ready kinda fast. I'll just be around, let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks." I say quietly, and put my headphones in before she can respond. She leaves, and I shuffle "Speak Now" by Taylor Swift, flopping onto the bed. Before I know it, my eyes are shutting and I've fallen asleep.

-

47 minutes later.

"Caitlin, you about ready? We've got to head out, like no-" Kate's sentence cuts off when she sees me, just waking up, lying on the bed. "Well, Clark, I don't want to get in trouble with the team, so get ready and get going!" She throws up her hands and sighs, muttering "damn 5 star recruits thinking they're better than everyone else."

"I'm sorry, Kate. Really, I didn't mean to fall asleep." I say as I'm getting ready.

"Shit, you heard that? Sorry, I didn't mean it." She hangs her head, and I can't help it. I laugh. "What?"

"It's funny. You look like you just killed a dog." She scowls at me, jokingly.

"Okay, but you've got to make it up to me. After dinner, come with me to Monica's party at her house. Deal?" I roll my eyes, but shake her hand anyway.

-

We arrive at a place called Pop's Barbeque, and when we get inside, I see tables pushed together, full of girls around my age and a bit older. The Iowa Hawkeyes Women's Basketball Team. Kate yells hi, and introduces me.

"Let me introduce you girls to the world-famous, deeeep 3 shooter, Iowa's own, Caitlin Clark!" She says it in such a dramatic tone, I think I'm going to gag. Instead, I just shyly wave and make my way towards an empty seat near the end of the table.

"Not so fast, Rook." One of the girls speaks up, who I recognize to be the senior captain Kathleen Doyle. "You're sitting next to me. Money Martin can sit there." They all laugh, and I just shrug and obey.

"Money Martin?" I ask Kate, and she just groans as everyone else laughs even louder.

"It's just some dumb nickname." She mutters.

"Yeah, and it's what she's going to be using to pay for our dinner tonight! Meal's on Martin!" Monica Czinano, the sophomore hosting the party says, slapping Kate on the back so hard, I think she's going to fall over.

-

Dinner was delicious, I must admit. And even though I didn't say much, it was cool seeing how genuine and connected the Iowa girls felt. Nothing like Notre Dame. Which is good.

We arrive back at Kate's room, and she puts her stuff down. I do the same, and when I turn around to ask her what to wear tonight, I see that she is only in her undergarments. I quickly turn right back around, blushing heavily.

"Oh sorry, I can change in the bathroom if you'd like." She sounds guilty.

"No, no. It's fine." I reply, trying to sound genuine, because I am. Even if I can't make myself turn around to face her again. "I'm just wondering what to wear."

"Oh!" She sounds surprised. "I would say just a cute top and leggings or jeans? Do you have those with you?"

"Yeah, I do." I pause for a minute before adding on. "Thanks. I don't really go to parties back home, so I don't have much experience."

"Really?" She sounds so shocked that I whip my head around, to find that she is, thankfully dressed. In a light blue crop top with black leggings. Wow. And now I'm wishing I could sink into a hole and disappear. "I didn't mean to sound so surprised, it's just that, athletes at parties is a common thing, at least where I'm from it is."

"I mean yeah, I get invited, I just don't go." I whisper.

"I get that. Truly. I am glad you're coming to this one though. It'll be great! And it's just us basketball girls, no weird football players or anything like that." That makes me laugh.

Chapter Text

Monika's House - 8:27pm

Caitlin and I are at Monika's front door, about to join the team. She looks nervous, I can tell. Tugging at her dark red top, taking her hands in and out of her pockets, fidgeting with her gold star necklace. I then realize I should stop hyper-examining her, which makes me blush, which then makes me scowl. "Get it together Kate, you're 19 and she's 17." I think to myself, shaking my head. And besides, it's not like I'm yearning to be in a relationship. Thankfully, the door opens before I can keep thinking.

"Hey girls!" Monika says, who's seemed to have pregamed for her own party. I say hi back, and Caitlin just waves.

"God, she is so cute." I think, then immediately regret it. "Kate, no." I look over to see that Caitlin is looking at me quizzically. I fix my face and smile. "You excited Rook?"

She shrugs. "I think so? I mean, it's good that it's just the team." She pauses. "It is, just the team, right?"

I laugh. "Yes Caitlin, no need to stress." She relaxes, and we both head inside and find the team in the kitchen, about to start a round of beer pong.

"Look, it's the famous Money Martin and the Female Steph Curry!" Freshman Gabbie Marshall makes that statement, who I've become really close friends with this year. A feisty guard who claims to be 5'9 (I don't believe her), she has more energy than almost everyone combined. "Come play, Caits!"

"It's Caitlin, thanks." Caitlin mutters. "I don't wanna get confused with Kate." I sling my arm around her shoulder and start to move towards the island, which is already set up.

"Are you good to play?" I ask her, just making sure.

"Why not?" She shrugs. "I want to play against you though." My eyes widen, and to my delight, I see that she's smirking. "But I'm warning you now, I. Don't. Miss." She pokes me in the chest with those last three words, and I smile.

"Deal. Be prepared to go down, Clark." We head to our respective sides of the table, and the team notices the competition brewing between us, and they back away.

"ONE-ON-ONE! ONE-ON-ONE!" They chant, and I just smirk at Caitlin.

"Ladies first." I gesture at her to pick up the ping pong ball, and she grunts but obliges. I ate my words immediately though, as Caitlin nails her first attempt without even bouncing it on the table. It sailed straight through the air and landed in the cup right in front of me.

I groan. "You've got to be shitting me." She just smirks, and I begrudgingly pick up the Red Solo Cup, and lift it to my lips. Before I can drink it, I catch a whiff. "Aww, what the hell did y'all put in this?"

"Pure magic." Monika states, arms crossed with a smug look on her face. I begin to chug the drink, while my teammates jeer me. Everyone is making noise except for one. Caitlin. I finish the drink, crumple it up, and throw it to the side. I pick up the ball, and aim.

"This one's for you, Clark." The only response she gives is a raised eyebrow. I release the ball, and it bounces along the rim before falling out. "Damnit!!" I curse, and I look back up at Caitlin. She remains stoic, and picks up the ball from the floor.

"You asked for it, Martin." To no ones surprise but my own, she nails another one. Straight into the cup, nothing but net. I sigh loudly, and pick up the cup. This is going to be a long night.

-

2 and a half minutes later

I've drank 6 Red Solo Cup's worth of whatever alcohol Monika conjured up, and I've yet to make one. I pick up the ball, and begin to aim, determined to make the rookie drink.

"Any day now Martin." She taps her foot, clearly enjoying this. I crack my neck, and decide to use Caitlin's strategy against her. I throw the ball through the air, and it lands with a resounding thunk into a cup.

"YES!" I yell with perhaps a little too much excitement, and Caitlin sighs.

"About dang time." She picks up the cup, tips it to her mouth, and before I can blink, downs it in one gulp. The room goes silent.

"Damn, girl! I didn't know you had it in you!" That was Makenzie, one of our senior captains. She laughs, and pats Caitlin on the back before making an announcement. "Alright, ladies, I think this is the perfect time for a little 'Never Have I Everrrr!!!'" Most of the room cheers, and we make our way over to the living room. I sit on the couch, and Caitlin awkwardly approaches me.

"Can I sit next to you?" She asks meekly.

"Of course!" I pat the space next to me. "Take a seat." Monika hands out drinks to everyone, as we prepare to play.

"Ooh, I'll start!" Makenzie announces. "Never have I ever shown up to practice hungover." I grab my cup and take a drink, along with a few of my teammates. We laugh.

Amanda pipes up next. "Prepare yourselves for this one. Never have I ever lied to Coach Bluder." I also take a drink, and so does almost everyone else in the room.

"I'll take the next one." Monika says, with too much excitement. "Never have I ever sent a nude." I look around the room to see a scattered number of teammates drink, and as I lift my cup to do the same, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Caitlin is drinking. And I'm not the only one who noticed.

"Caitlin Clark! Look at you!!" Gabbie calls her out, grin plastered wide on her face. "Spill the tea, girl!" The room's gone silent, everyone looking at Caitlin.

"Umm." Caitlin's cheeks have started to go red, and she ducks her head. "There was this guy I met at a hotel, and, well, I'm guessing you all can fill in the blanks."

"No, not really!" Gabbie says, but Kathleen shuts her up.

"I've got one!" Kathleen states. "Never have I ever kissed someone of the same sex." I drink again, scowling 'cause that one felt a bit targeted, and I catch Caitlin staring at me.

"Really?" She asks, with a tone I can't quite place. I nod. "Interesting."

I try to process her response, before I'm interrupted. "Oh yeah, Money Martin is a play-a!" It's Monika, of course. "Ask the softball team, the soccer team, the field hockey team, the volley-"

I stop her there. "Okay, okay Mon. Point proven." I laugh, the drinks clearly settling in, but Caitlin is still looking at me.

"I'll go." We all turn to look at who said it, and who else. Caitlin. "Never had I ever had sex." I raise my eyebrow, and drink yet again. She just smirks at me, cup still pretty full. I need someone to say one that will get her, something that will give me some information about mystery girl, someth-

"I've got a great one ladies!" Alexis chimes in. "Never have I ever had a crush on a teammate." I groan, and go to drink from my mostly-empty cup. But before I can, I notice Caitlin looking around the room, before taking a sip. I notice, but no one else seems to. She looks over in my direction, and notices that I'm staring at her. Which makes her realize I saw her drink. Her eyes get wide, and she goes to say something. Before she can, I cover her mouth with my hand.

"I won't tell anyone. I swear!" I whisper, and she nods, with a good amount of fear in her eyes. I was expecting to learn somethings about the prodigy today, but this? This was not what I was expecting.

Chapter Text

The next morning:

"God, that was so stupid!" I think to myself. I've been tossing and turning all night, regretting my involvement in the stupid game of Never Have I Ever. Yeah, the nude photo thing was fine, whatever, but the one about having a crush on a teammate? Kate. Saw. Me. Drink. I can't fucking believe it. Why would I admit that? I've never told anyone about Bri before, and I wasn't planning on ever sharing. Kate's alarm goes off and I groan, dreading the fact that I have to face her throughout most of the day today.

"Rise and shine sleepyhead!" She's entirely too loud seeing that it's 5:42am. "God, I am so hungover. How are you feeling?" She asks me.

"Fine. I didn't drink that much." I mumble, getting out of bed.

"Yeah, lucky you!" She jokes. "You crushed me at beer pong and I am now paying the price." She moans, rubbing her stomach. "Are you excited for your first, and hopefully not last, Iowa morning practice?"

"I'm an early bird type of girl, so I think I should be good." I answer, which is true, kind of. I can get up early, but that doesn't mean I'll be happy about it. Kate just shakes my shoulders, and leaves me to get ready. I take a deep breath, really hoping last night isn't brought up at practice.

-

6:02

"Martin! You're late!" That's Jan Jensen, the assistant coach. She also happens to be Kate's aunt by marriage, which is kinda funny. "You're setting a bad example for Caitlin here." That makes Kate blush, which I find really confusing, but also satisfying..? I shake that off.

"Sorry Jan. Won't happen again. You know I love ya." Kate breezes past Coach Jensen, a smile on her face. I follow behind her, towards the benches.

"Here it's Coach Jensen, Martin. Don't you forget it." She points at her niece, who just laughs. I find myself smirking, and sit down to tie my shoes. Just as I'm wrapping up, I hear a very loud, and very annoyed voice boom through the gym.

"LADIES. COME GET YOUR BUTTS TO CENTER COURT, RIGHT NOW." It's Coach Bluder. She does not seemed thrilled. I look over at Kate, who looks back and just sighs.

"Looks like we got busted, Rook. Sorry." She hangs her head.

"It's alright. If I become a part of this team, I guess I'll have to get used to having consequences." I add on one more thing as we're jogging over. "IF." She just smiles, which quickly fades when we see Coach Bluder's expression.

"A little birdie told me that this Iowa Hawkeyes team had a party last night, full of alcohol." She scowls and looks around the circle, and sees that none of us are brave enough to make eye contact. Except for me. I keep my head held high. She notices, and takes a deep breath. "And... I heard that 17 year old Caitlin Clark was there, drinking and playing games." I gulp, but don't look away. "And not just any old 17 year old. The fourth-best 17 year old recruit in the country! At a college party with you idiots! Do you know how much trouble she could've gotten in if anything was leaked? Do you?!" Coach's eyes narrow, and then she adds the kicker. "You girls have no dignity. Not. An. Ounce." Just when I think she's done, she lowers the boom. "Everyone. On the baseline. That includes you, Caitlin." I don't argue, and make my way towards the line. However, Kate stays behind.

"Coach Bluder, don't punish Caitlin! This was completely my fault, I invited her to come, I brought her to the party, I challenged her to a beer pong game..." she trails off. "I probably shouldn't have said that last part." She looks at Coach Bluder, who has gone rigid. "It's not her fault Coach, please."

Coach Bluder sighs, and issues a statement. "I've changed my mind. Everyone on the line, we're doing suicides for as long as I tell you to. Everyone except for..." she pauses, and I half expect to be excused. I don't really mind the running, but whatever. "Kate Martin. Go to my office, right now." The already quiet gym goes completely silent, as everyone turns and stares at Kate, who, if she had a shell, would be deep into it.

"Yes coach." Kate says it so meekly, I almost don't hear her. She turns the other way and jogs towards the coaches offices.

"Okay, everyone! You heard Coach Bluder. On my whistle, go!" Coach Jensen takes charge, blows her whistle, and we take off. I enjoy running. The feeling of every part of your body working together like a well-oiled machine, the heavy breathing, the wind in your hair, all of it. It's sensational. But something is distracting me. Kate.

Chapter Text

"Shit. Shit, shit. ShitshitshitshitSHIT." These are the only thoughts going through my mind right now. I'm so screwed. Why the hell would I bring Caitlin to that party? I'm such a bad example, first my reputation as being a player, and now this? I'm in Coach Bluder's office, sitting in the chair across from her seat, which I used to think was so comfy. But now the hardwood is digging into my back as I toss and turn, sweating, nervously awaiting the door to open. Just when I feel like I'm about to burst, Coach Bluder walks in.

"Hello Kate." She's no-nonsense, of course. She doesn't take a seat, just leans on her desk. "As you are well aware, we have a exhibition game later today. I was hopeful that you would be able to play and show me your talents against Winona State, but I'm afraid that that is not going to be possible."

Before I can stop myself, I protest. "What? Coach!" Thankfully, she cuts me off before I can keep rambling.

"I know you, Kate. And I know you know better. You're only a freshman, but you possess the traits of a up-and-coming captain." She takes a deep breath. "So this allows you to be aware of the influence you have on your teammates. And how bad it would look if I play you today after last night. You are an example to your team Kate, I'm just helping you be one." I nod.

"I'm so sorry Coach Bluder. Really." She gives me one last response.

"Oh, and last thing: you are to convince Caitlin Clark to come to Iowa. I don't care if it's the last thing you do, but I know deep down that she belongs here. So you'll sit out practice today to coach her. Understood?"

I smile. "Of course. She'll commit faster than you can say 'Go Hawkeyes.'" She shakes her head, but a grin is creeping onto her face.

-

1 and a half hours later:

"Good, good! Yes Caitlin!" I scream at the recruit as she nails yet another logo three. She just smiles back, locking back in like she has been for the entirety of practice. As much as I hate not being out there on the court with my team, I have to admit: coaching is fun. Practice finally ends, and everyone heads towards center court to break it down.

"How 'bout you lead this one, Clark?" It's Monika. "For good luck?" Caitlin, visibly embarrassed, obliges.

"Hawkeyes on three, one, two, three..." She looks around, as it's gone silent. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, before we all explode.

"HAWKEYES!" We shout in unison, lifting Caitlin off the ground and into the air. She yelps, and makes eye contact with me. I just shrug and laugh.

-

In Kate's car, on the way to team brunch:

"So." The car ride has just been Taylor Swift so far, who Caitlin happens to be a complete fangirl of. She breaks the silence though, and I look over at her.

"So?" I reply.

"So, what went down with Coach Bluder?" She looks like a dog who got caught throwing up on the rug. "That was so dumb of me to come with y'all last night, I bet she was so mad, and doesn't want me in her program."

"Caitlin!" I say, shocked. Her eyes go wide. "That is not at all what happened! She called me in to scold me for being a bad influence. I'm obviously not a good proctor, huh?" I take a right and pull into the Panera parking lot, and as I park, Caitlin says something that makes my heart stop.

"You're not a bad influence at all." She says quietly. "Last night was actually really fun, and it made me realize how genuine this team is. You all just seem so close, like an honest-to-God family. And it translates on the court. It's really fun to watch, and even more fun to be a part of." She sighs. "I'm all but committed to Notre Dame, but if I had a say, I'd be on the next bus ride back to Iowa City to play here."

"Clark, that's awesome!" I pause, thinking back on what she just said. "Wait. What do you mean 'if I had a say?' It's literally all your decision!"

"Well yeah." She says tentatively, fidgeting with her hair. "But it's just like, Notre Dame is Notre Dame. The UConn of the MidWest." She pauses. "I just, I don't know."

"I have an idea. When you get home tomorrow, talk to your parents. Tell them about your experience here, and say that you're thinking of attending the University of Iowa instead." I smile. "How does that sound?"

"Great, actually. Thanks Kate, you've been such a big help, and you're definitely one of the main reasons I want to come play here." My eyes start to tear up. I can't help it. "BUT, that is if Coach Bluder ever lets you play again because you were 'a bad example on the 17 year old 5 star recruit, who is so awesome and so good at basketball and so hot it's insane...'" I laugh, cutting her off.

"OMG that's exactly how she sounded!" We both start to crack up. "Alright Rook. After you leave town, please keep me posted." I scramble for a piece of paper and a writing utensil, and scribble down my number.

"You know, you could just share your contact with me, right?" She's trying hard not to laugh at me.

"Well, yeah, but this is like, so much more professional." I stutter.

"Kate." She sighs, still holding back a laugh. "It's a Chipotle napkin!" She waves the piece of paper around with a triumphant look on her face, while I just groan.

"Oh, just you wait for next year, Clark. Hazing is going to be So. Much. Fun." I smile, and Caitlin gulps jokingly.

-

November 12th, 2019:

"KATE!!!" I pick up the incoming phone call, and my ears are filled with my Aunt Jen's screaming.

"Hi, Jen. Good afternoon to ya' too." I grumble.

"COME TO LISA'S OFFICE, ASAP!!" More yelling. What the hell could this be about?

-

I arrive, panting from my full sprint from the entrance to her office, and I see Coach Bluder and Jan staring at the laptop in disbelief.

"What is it?" I ask, scared but excited at the same time.

"Come see for yourself!" Coach Bluder turns around the screen, and I'm greeted with a SportsCenter post.

"#4 Prospect in the 2020 Class, Caitlin Clark, has committed to..." I read aloud as my eyes move to the next line. "The University of IOWA???" I scream. It's real. Caitlin Clark is coming to Iowa. And I couldn't be happier.

Chapter Text

November 2019:

It's nerve wracking being a freshman in college, especially for me. I'm just grateful that Coach Brooks still had faith in me after I tore my ACL right before my senior year of high school. Thankfully, after a 9-month healing process, I'm back. Committing to Virginia Tech was an easy choice for me. Being from North Carolina, I've always wanted to play ACC ball, and Tech is one of the best programs for women's basketball in the conference. We've won our first two non-conference games so far this season, and in my first ever game for the Hokies, I scored a team-high 27 points, which is the most by a Virginia Tech freshman in their debut ever. Which is crazy. However, our team is still missing... something. Everyone in the locker room knows it. And that's when I got called into Coach Brooks' office.

"Hey Coach. What's up?" I ask. Coach Brooks is on the older side, an experienced coach with 25 years under his belt. It's an honor to be coached by him.

"Look, Elizabeth." He states, no-nonsense, but with a hint of excitement. "We got word that Georgia Amoore, a talented young point guard, has officially committed to play here." I nod. I've not really heard much about her, so I don't really know what to expect, but Coach seems happy, so she must be solid. "She landed just now, and we have a car going to pick her up. When she gets to the facilities, would you mind showing her around? She'll be tired, but excited, I'm sure." I try my best to smile, even though I'm not the biggest fan of being a chaperone, and this sounds like a chore. And she'll be tired? Where's she coming from, Australia??

"Yes Coach, I will." I answer, which satisfies him.

"Good. One last thing. She hasn't got a dorm or apartment yet, would you mind if she stays with you for the time being?" I sigh, but again say yes.

Okay, great. And Elizabeth? I think she'll grow on you." He pauses. "You're a big help. She'll be here any minute now, would you mind going to the front to pick her up and grab her bags?"

"Yep." I say bye, and head towards the front of Hurst, our practice facility. Yay, I get babysitting duty. I grumble as I feel cold air on my face, and see a car parked in front of the building. I walk over, and as I do, someone gets out of the car.

"I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent." London Boy, by Taylor Swift.

But damn, I've never seen that line personified so well until now. Georgia steps out of the passenger's seat, backpack in hand. Her smile is energetic and blinding, and I can't seem to look away. My mouth kinda opens and closes a few times, which is totally embarrassing. Just when I thought I couldn't be more awkward, she walks up to me.

"Hi, I'm Georgia! You must be Liz. It's so nice to meet you." Australian. Umm, she's Australian. I shake her hand, and my brain finally seems to register the other crazy thing. I'm a foot taller than her. At least. I'm 6'6, but still. I swallow down any stupid phrases that I know are bubbling up, and smile back.

"Elizabeth Kitley. But as you just said, you can call me Liz." God, I sound so dumb! Why do I posses the inability to talk to girls? It's like oh, you're gonna be a lesbian, but oh, your mouth stops working when you see one!

"Ahh! Yes, I have watched your film! You are so talented, and it helps that you are so tall!" That damn accent. Someone send help.

"Thanks, I've heard you're not too shabby yourself." She looks confused at my response.

"'Not too shabby?' I'm sorry, I'm unfamiliar with that one." Oh right, Australian.

"Oh, it means you're good, like really good." I scramble to say, making sure she doesn't think it's an insult. I succeed.

"Phew, okay good to know! You're going to have to help me navigate American slang." I smirk and say yes.

"Well, you're staying with me for the next week or so until you get your apartment. If it works for you, I'll take you there now?" She nods.

"I do want to see the gym and locker room afterwards though!" God, it's amazing how excited she is. I'm beginning to realize Coach Brooks was right. Georgia won't be that bad. Except, that hot feeling pooling in my stomach seems to think otherwise.

-

45 minutes later - At Hahn Hurst Practice Center

I open the door to enter the facility for Georgia, and once we step inside, her face lights up even more. Those damn dimples.

"Liz, this is awesome!" Her grin is contagious, and I find myself smiling too.

"Yeah, it's pretty sick. So this is your first time on campus, right?" I ask as I start to take her to the practice courts.

"Yep, the flight from Australia is longggg, so I've just done virtual tours and calls with coaches, stuff like that." She shrugs. "What about you? Why'd you choose to be a Hokie?"

"Well, I was a top-50 player in my graduating class, and I knew I wanted to play in the ACC." I open the door to the court, and pause. "What sucks though is that most of the higher-up programs didn't want me, so I was fortunate that Coach Brooks had faith in me."

She basks in the gym for a few seconds before realizing what I said. "Wait. You were a top-tier player, but schools didn't want you? Why not?" She sounds so irritated, I almost laugh.

"Well, I tore my ACL right before my senior season, so injury concerns rose for college coaches." She grimaces.

"God, I'm sorry. That must have sucked." She looks so down that I have to change the topic.

"But anyway, I'm very glad I chose Virginia Tech. What do you think of the courts?" I already know what she's going to say.

"They're awesome! This is all so great!" She looks up at me, and it takes everything in my power not to blush. "And I'd say you're doing alright here. 27 points for your career debut?! That's insane!" And now my face turns red.

"Aw, it's nothing, really." She just gives me a raised eyebrow and laughs.

"Elizabeth Kitley, so modest." She takes a second. "Couldn't be me. Just wait until I score on you at the shootaround tomorrow."

"Excuse you, Amoore!" I just shake my head, and lead her to the locker room, which she loves.

-

25 minutes later - outside the film room

"Well, this is our last stop. Where all the magic happens." I open the door and hold it for Georgia, and her eyes light up.

"It's so cool!" She runs over and collapses into one of the chairs, and sighs. I laugh, because they are very comfy, and I go sit next to her.

"Not bad, huh?" She rolls over to face me.

"It's amazing, Liz." I suck in air.

"Say my name and everything just stops." Dress, T-Swift.

Holy shit. I look into her chocolate-colored eyes, which are pulling me in. Just as I think something's about to happen, Coach Brooks walks in.

"Georgia! I see you've already found how comfortable our chairs are." He smiles, and Georgia shoots out of her seat to shake his hand. "How nice it is to finally meet you. I can't wait to see what you bring to this team." I don't know how well she'll do as a Hokie, but I know she's going to be a world of trouble for me.

Chapter Text

May 2020:

For the past month or so, I have practically been living in Arlington with Azzi and her family. We've been inseparable, from dancing in TikTok's together to making 20 Question YouTube videos, it's been awesome. However, today Azzi has brought to me a proposition. She hasn't told me what it is yet, but ever since she made me drink that nasty Buried Treasure Immune Booster a few days ago (that shit was nasty), I'm very suspicious.

"Paige!" Speak of the devil. Azzi comes into the guest room where I'm staying, with a sing songy voice and a look in her eyes that means only one thing: she's up to no good.

"Hey Azzi..." My voice is full of suspicion. "What's on the schedule today?"

"Oh, just something I bought at the store yesterday that I thought would be fun to try." I raise my eyebrow.

"Like food?" She smirks.

"No, not exactly." She's been holding something behind her back this whole time, and she finally moves to reveal it. "Tada!" It's hair dye. Purple hair dye, or more specifically, Midnight Amethyst.

"You're joking." My hands automatically shoot up to my hair, which I start to throw around nervously. "Please tell me you're joking." She just laughs at my hysteria, then goes for the low blow:

Please Paige? Do it for me." She pouts, and I feel my face start to heat up.

"Sure, whatever, Azzi. I'll do it." A grin consumes her face, as she drags me into the living room, where her mom already has everything prepared. Azzi puts a trash bag on to cover her shirt, and I grumble as I do the same.

"Bueckers, you've never looked better!" Azzi's mom says, and I just stick out my tongue and sit down where she's prepared the operation to take place. She starts sectioning my hair, and I sit, sulking, scrolling through my phone. 10 or so minutes in, I look up to see Azzi grinning down at me.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing, it's just." She pauses momentarily. "You look good in purple." I sigh.

"Well, enjoy it while it lasts, Fudd. Because I'm going back to blonde asap." I say.

"Fitting 'natural' hair color for you." She makes quotation marks around 'natural.' "Ya dumb blonde."

"HEY!" I yell, very much offended. "Don't say such things." I go to play with my hair, without realizing it's full of dye, and my hands come back purple. "Ugh, damn it!" Azzi is cackling so hard she's bent at the waist. I take that opportunity to rub the dye on my hands into her hair. "How'd you like that!?"

"Paige! I'm literally getting it dyed right after you!" She shakes her head.

"You should go for a navy blue and red look..." I trail off, because she knows what I'm implying. "Oh that reminds me! After this is done, I have a video to show you and your parents."

"Okay?" Azzi raises an eyebrow. Then she looks at me and starts to laugh again. "Bro, you look like you belong in a 'My Little Pony' movie with those luscious purple locs." I smack her arm, grinning.

-

1 hour later:

After most of the dye is washed out of our hair (thank god it came out easily), I gesture for the Fudd family to sit on their couch, as I scramble to grab my iPad.

"iPad kid!!" Azzi yells, and I roll my eyes. What can I say? I love my iPad. I return to the living room, and make my big announcement.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Are you ready for..." I signal for her brothers to do a drumroll, to which they happily oblige. "...Paige's Passing Extraordinaire!" I connect the iPad to the TV, and pull up my masterpiece. A 7-minute highlight tape of all of my best high school and AAU assists, from drive and dumps to no-lookers. I click play, and bathe in Azzi's parents reactions to what I've done.

"Paige! You put all this together for Azzi?" Her mom asks, and I nod.

"Just a little taste of the passes she'd be seeing if she came to UConn." Azzi turns around to look at me, and just when I think she's going to give me shit, she smiles. Wide. I once again start to blush.

"Paige Bueckers, this is awesome!" Azzi leaps out of her seat and wraps me in a huge bear hug. "I can't believe you'd do this for me!"

"Of course, Azzi. Anything for you. Can you imagine how good we'd be, together, and UConn of all places?!" I hold her hands and look her dead in the eyes. "You have to come play with me, Azzi. You know that, right?" She sighs.

"Of course I know that. But, as I've told you before, I'm not committing anywhere until my 18th birthday." I look down, acting all depressed. It works. "Now more so than ever, thanks to that video, UConn is looking pre-tty good." I grin, and give her a hug of my own.

"You are not going anywhere without me, Fudd. I hope you know that." It's so hard to stop the butterflies flying around my stomach when she smiles and says:

"I know."

Chapter Text

July 2020

I hate it. Why the hell did COVID have to hit this year, of all years? Basketball playoffs. Gone. All-American Game. Gone. High School Graduation. Gone. And, Iowa summer workouts. Gone. Well, kind of. I'm heading to campus now, to meet with Coach Bluder and go over some technicalities. We haven't been able to meet in person since I commited, due to basketball and COVID. Not to try to push my luck or anything, but I'm the most viable option for starting point guard, due to Doyle's graduation. One of the reasons why I chose Iowa over Notre Dame, playing time. The other reason is waiting for me as I get out of my car. Of course. There's Kate Martin, in an Iowa Basketball tank top, a baseball cap, and a hawkeyes face mask. Although I can't see her smile, her eyes light up when she sees me. I scramble to throw on a blue disposable mask, and grab my backpack from the backseat.

"Caitlin, hey!" Kate moves towards me, grabbing my bag from my hands and slinging it onto her back.

"You know you don't have to treat me like I'm an uncommitted visitor, right?" I joke, and Kate just sighs.

"I'm just being polite, Clark." She looks at me. "So, you excited to be back?"

"Only if I can beat you in beer pong again." Her eyes go wide, face turning scarlet. "Kidding, Martin. Lighten up."

"Not funny." She mutters under her breath, but I know if I could see her mouth, I would see a smile being fought.

"I am happy to be back though, truly." I say. Even though my parents were pretty shocked with my commitment switch-up, the more they read about Iowa, the more accepting they are. We enter the gym, and I nudge Kate. "I've heard some rumors Martin..." I trail off, trying to build suspense. It works.

"What?" She asks, shock in her voice. "What rumors?"

"That a certain sophomore is a lead choice to be a team captain this year?" I smile, and she just sighs.

"Rumors, Caitlin. Rumors." She replies.

"Oh, yeah, okay." I say, very sarcastically. "You've been an Iowa captain since you were born."

"Yeah, but I'm not the best player on the team. Not even close." She says, head hanging.

"Oh? Who would that title go to?" I ask.

"Caitlin." She states, staring at me. "Who else?" We set our stuff down, and I start putting on my basketball shoes, but Kate isn't moving.

"Look, Kate. I don't want to hear any of that self-deprecation bullshit. You deserve to be at Iowa. You have proved yourself time and time again." She still hasn't moved, so I play one final card. "Let's scrimmage. 1-vs-1. Right here, right now."

"You know Bluder doesn't want us to get hurt." She says this, but she starts to grab her shoes.

"I know you want to, Martin." I say in a singsongy voice. "C'mon, just a quick game?" I already know that Kate won't be able to resist.

"Fine. Let's go."

-

Kate has definitely been too hard on herself. She's really talented. But so am I. First to seven, and I'm up 6-4 after just hitting another 3. We've got an audience now, with almost the whole Iowa team watching us play, fascinated.

"That all you got, Martin?!" I tease her. "Show me some real offense kid."

"Kid?!" She scoffs, checking the ball aggressively to me. I smirk and pass it back. She drives, all out of control and impatient. I stay with her, playing solid defense. She jumps up, and I go for the block. I slam it out of her hand, but my elbow comes flying down.

"CRACK!!!" A loud noise echoes throughout the gym. Shit.

Chapter Text

15 minutes later:

"Yep, it's broken." Katie Berger, one of our assistant athletic trainers tells us. Which, no shit. "You should be able to keep practicing, but you'll need to wear a mask. You have one still, from my understanding, correct?"

"Yep, back at my dorm." I respond. I'm sitting on the evaluation table in the training facility off of the practice courts. Caitlin is sitting in a chair adjacent from me, looking anywhere but at me.

"Okay, I want you to go grab that now. I didn't notice any, but due to potential concussion risk, you shouldn't walk alone." She turns her attention to Caitlin. "You walk with her to pick it up, then report back to me immediately."

"Thanks, we'll be back soon." As I hop off the bench, I look over at Caitlin to gesture for us to leave, but she still won't make eye contact. I sigh, and walk out the door. At least she follows me.

-

After 10 minutes of walking in silence, we arrive at my dorm. Trying to lighten the mood, I hold the door for her, and say "Ladies first." Caitlin just puts her head down and trudges through the doorway and into my room. She sits in my chair, and stares a hole in the wall.

"So... thanks for coming with me." I say, trying to get her to talk. She stays silent, and right as I give up and head to my room to grab my mask, I hear her speak.

"How are you not so pissed at me right now?" She whispers. I turn around, and we finally make eye contact.

"Mad at you for what?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"For, breaking your nose." She stutters, almost shocked at my question.

"Caitlin. It's just a broken nose, not a torn acl! Besides, I've broke it before." I laugh. "The only thing bad about it is having to wear this stupid mask!" I run back to my room and grab it from my desk drawer. It's an ugly thing, clear plastic that covers my nose. I hear Caitlin mumble as I return.

"It can't be that ugly." I dangle it in front of her, and she just shrugs. "Put it on." I oblige, sliding it over my head and settling it on my face. I tighten the straps, and look back at Caitlin.

"Hah!" She tries to hide her laugh, but I notice it.

"Seriously, Clark?" I glare at her, but that makes her laugh even harder. "C'mon!" I hide my face in embarrassment, but only to find that I'm blushing.

"Kate, it's fine!" She squeaks out in between laughs. "Come here, let me see." I groan, but head toward the chair anyway. I sit down on the ottoman across from her, and stick out my face.

"So?" I ask.

"It's... something, for sure." She giggles again as I bring my face closer to hers. I move my hand up and grab her nose.

"Oh yeah, Clark? Is this how we're going to play?" I ask, swinging her nose around. She laughs even harder, snorting now because I'm blocking the airflow in her nose.

"Stop, stop!" She begs, but her voice sounds so warped that I start laughing too. I release her nose, and we both erupt into giggles. As we settle down, Caitlin speaks up.

"Must be hard to kiss with your nose looking like that, huh? Player, no more." I huff, and slap her on the arm.

"Well I'm sure you've never even kissed anyone before, so how would you know?" Caitlin looks down, and I know I've gone too far. She looks back up and makes eye contact with me.

"Never with a girl, no." She says it so quiet, I can barely hear her. What she says next almost kills me. "But I'd like to..." Caitlin trails off, but the damage is done. She realizes what she just admitted, and goes red.

"Caitlin." I say, going into team mom mode. "It's okay to talk about your feelings, and it's also okay to not. Just know, as your captain and as your friend, I'm here for you. Always." She smiles.

"Captain? Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?" I sigh, but it's good to see she's back to herself. However, as we head back to the practice facility, I can't help but reminisce on the way she looked at me in my dorm room.

Chapter Text

July 2020

Today is the 4th of July, which is apparently a big American holiday. I want to surprise Liz today, but I don't exactly know what to get her. She deserves it though, having warmed up to me a lot more. Summer workouts have started back up, so I've been at Virginia Tech constantly. I'm heading to the Kroger by campus to look for some gifts. Right when I walk into the store, I'm blinded by red, white, and blue themed everything. Wow.

"Hello, how may I help you?" An older man walks over to me, Kroger work uniform on. He has a very deep southern accent.

"Hi, umm, I'm wondering what decorations to get for the 4th of July?" I say, and his face twists in confusion.

"Why would a British person want to know that?" He asks, and I sigh.

"I'm Australian, actually. Just trying to throw a party for an American friend." He shakes his head, a smile creeping on his face.

"Oh, so you've got an American boyfriend? How nice." I contort my brows in confusion.

"Uh, I didn't say anything about a boyfriend..." He's completely lost me, so I just turn away and walk to the displays. There is so much stuff. After doing laps around the displays for a solid 15 minutes, I settle on a cookie cake with the American flag iced on it, two pairs of American sunglasses, red white and blue streamers, and "Happy 4th" balloons. I check out, and head to my car. Once I get in, I turn on the radio.

"Can I go, where you go? Can we always, be this close?" I smirk and turn up the volume. Even though I never thought it would happen, Liz's obsession with Taylor Swift has rubbed off on me. Albeit, a little too much. I start the drive back to our dorm. Once I get there, I'm relieved to find that Liz is not in the room. I immediately get to work setting up the decorations, and half an hour later, it's done. Now, I wait.

-

15 minutes later:

I hear footsteps approaching the door, and I take my hiding place in our room. The lock jiggles, and the door is pushed open. I see the shadow of my 6'6 friend, and I jump out of my hiding spot.

"HAPPY 4TH!!!" I scream, and Liz yelps, jumping into the air. To my surprise, the water bottle Liz is holding onto is open, and it spills all over her. She gasps, now soaking wet, glasses slipping down her face.

"Oh my god, Georgia!" Liz says, and I keel over laughing.

"I'm, I'm sorry!" She stands back up to full height, dripping onto the floor. I continue laughing, and she looks me up and down.

"You're looking... a little too dry Amoore." She says and I yelp, making my way towards the door. Her longer legs beat me there though, and she picks me up with ease, wrapping me in a bear hug.

"Liz, Liz!" I yell, trying to break away from her grip, but to no avail. She holds her water bottle up above my head, and pours the remains on me.

"It's so cold!" I gasp. She finally lets me go, and I give her a death stare.

"No shit." She's smiling now. "So, lets see what you got to celebrate this holiday." I grin, glad she's changing the subject.

Chapter Text

July 2020:

Paige's presence at my home in Arlington has become a constant in my life. From scrimmaging in my backyard to making TikToks in my room, she's been there. And I would be lying if I didn't think there was something more between us than just friendship. But I'm too damn shy to act on any romantic feelings that I have, especially when Paige is seemingly untouchable. And that's coming from her best friend.

"Azzi! We're going to be late!" Speaking of which. Paige bursts into my room, where I'm currently laying on my bed, doomscrolling TikTok. Paige and I have been asked to coach a youth group going on at my old middle school in DC. I was hesitant to do so, but Paige's smile and pleading were enough to convince me to change my mind.

"Ah yes, late to a game that starts in... approximately 2 hours. Should I tell the driver to speed through the streets to get us there on time?" I ask sarcastically, and Paige rolls her eyes.

"At least put something on other than boxers!" I stand up and look down at my clothes. Sure enough, my Spongebob boxer shorts do not scream "coach."

"Fine. But don't act like you don't like me in them." I wink, before slamming the door right in Paige's face. The last thing I see before the door closes is the shocked look in her eyes, and the pink flush on her cheeks. I throw on black and gray athletic shorts and a white "Girls USA" shirt. I step outside, and get a chance to take in Paige's outfit. Black sweatpants and her tight black Gatorade Player of the Year long sleeve shirt. Emphasis on TIGHT. I gulp, and look away, pretending like I'm looking for something.

"Watcha looking for?" Paige asks, arms crossed, with a smug look on her face. I glare at her.

"My keys, Bueckers."

"Uh oh. Someone's grumpy today." She jangles my keys in the air.

"Umm, no. You are so not driving!" I respond, lunging for the keys. She hoists them in the air, and I make a show of struggling to reach them before conceding. "Fine. Just don't wreck my car."

"YES!" She exclaims. "I mean, I would never." I sigh, and we head outside. We get in the car, and I reach for the aux cord, but she snatches it out of my hands.

"Hey!" I yell, but she shushes me, turning on a song I am unfortunately too familiar with. It's a trending TikTok sound that's been used by the biggest stars. "Paige, I am not doing this dance."

"Why not?" She makes a pouty face at me as she starts driving. "We need more WhiteChocolate535 content!"

"We posted like, a week ago." She's referring to our joint TikTok account that has gained a lot of followers over the past year. I'm not the biggest fan of posting on it, but Paige always manages to rope me in. Like she's about to now.

"Two weeks, actually." She corrects me. "C'mon! I already know where we can film it!"

"Where?" I ask, admitting defeat. She giggles.

"You'll see when we get there!" I sigh.

"At least put on some better music." She nods, and at a stoplight, turns on Drake.

"No Drake, Paige!" I say sternly, but she just laughs, and I reluctantly find myself singing along.

-

30 minutes later:

Paige pulls up and parks in front of a hotel about 5 minutes from my middle school. We get out of the car, and she practically drags me into the lobby, propping up her phone on a chair. She finds the audio, and starts the ten second countdown. She turns to me.

"You ready?" She asks.

"I suppose." I answer, trying to act all nonchalant, as if every second I spend with Paige doesn't eat away at my heart. The sound starts, and we start to dance, but I notice pretty quickly that her tongue is out. The whole time.

"Paige, keep your tongue in your mouth!" I reprimand her, but she just laughs.

"Azzi, that was a good take!" She pauses. "And besides, I have to give the ladies what they want." She winks at me, and I gag.

"Whatever. Can you at least keep your tongue in your mouth for most of the video?" I ask.

"Huh." She says.

"What?" I respond.

"It's just that no one's ever asked me to keep my tongue in my mouth." She draws out the innuendo and I roll my eyes.

"Paige Madison Bueckers. Get your shit together." She smiles, but obliges my request during our next take. At the very end of the recording, we both break, laughing as the video cuts off.

"Not bad, Fudd. Not bad." I sigh, and shove Paige towards the exit. We have a game to coach after all.

Chapter Text

August 2020:

School is starting back up, well, kind of. It's so weird only seeing half of everyone's faces, the only place where freedom is allowed is at basketball practice (sorry COVID guidelines, but it's kinda hard to play in masks). Today marks our first practice during the school year, and the summer has been going well, with one big surprise: Georgia has worked her way into the starting point guard position. Which, I've gotten to like the girl, but that's pretty shocking. We've got night practice today, so that's where I'm heading now. I enter the facilities, but as I'm about to head to the locker room, I hear dribbling. I peek my head inside the court, and I see Georgia, working on her handles. Mind you, practice doesn't start for another 45 minutes. I try to duck out, but she sees me.

"KITLEY!" Her voice booms, and a blush starts to creep up my face. You shouldn't be surprised that I haven't gotten over my teeny, tiny crush on my teeny, tiny teammate. Except, those feelings have been fighting with my distaste for her taking the starting position.

"Hi, Georgia." I hesitantly step into the gym. "You know practice doesn't start for a while, right?"

"Yeah, but you know what they say: If you're not early, you're late!" She exclaims, and I sigh.

"It's 'If you're not five minutes early, you're late.' Not 45 minutes." I mutter, but she hears me.

"You wanna come join me? Y'know we're going to have to get used to each other's style of play seeing that we're both gonna start." She states proudly, and I roll my eyes.

"Don't get too cocky Georgia. I've got to go see the trainer's, but thanks for the invite." I go to walk away, but the last thing I see is her expression deflating. I've upset her. Good. She needs to be humbled. But there's a sinking feeling in my stomach that I'm being too mean to the girl. I mean, she's been away from her family for six months now, which I could never imagine doing. I make my way towards the locker room to drop off my stuff, thinking about Georgia the entire way there.

-

41 minutes later:

I make my way onto the court to find that I'm the last one there. Georgia is leaning against the wall, drinking water. When she sees me, she smirks.

"You're late, Kitley." She says as a shit-eating grin takes over her face.

"What?" I ask

"Wasn't it you that said 'If you're not five minutes early, you're late?'" She states in an awful American accent. "It's 5:41. You're late." She says in a singsongy tone.

"Whatever." I say dryly, and hurry to get my shoes on. As I pull the laces tight, Coach Brooks calls us in for a huddle. I run over to meet him and my teammates.

"Hello ladies. Kitley." Wow, targeted, but okay. "I hope everyone had a productive first day of classes. Today is going to be a scrimmage day. Get a good warmup in, and then we'll split into two teams."

"BREAK!" Everyone yells, and we head to the line to stretch. I stay silent, making sure to stretch every muscle in my body. However, my peace keeps getting interrupted by chatter. Georgia's chatter with Shelby Calhoun, another freshman guard. I decide to speak up, to prove to the team that I have authority.

"CALHOUN! AMOORE!" I say loudly, and all heads whip towards me. "I wasn't aware that this was a gossip circle! Save the chatter for after practice." I see Shelby gulp, but Georgia just stares at me, head tilted like she's confused. I just sigh and look away.

-

10 minutes later:

"Alright, everyone! Time to break up into teams for a scrimmage. On maroon, Kitley, Sheppard, King, Jones, and Amoore." I make eye contact with Amoore, who realizes she's staying on the starting lineup. For now. We huddle up, ready to crush the benchwarmers. The scrimmage starts from the baseline, our ball. I hold my ground at the elbow, and see Georgia dribbling up the floor. I run towards her to set a screen, and she uses it immaculately. Sensing the opportunity, I roll to the basket.

"HERE! HERE!" I yell for the ball, and Georgia looks right at me. But she doesn't pass it. So I post up on the block, burying Alex Fegue, our other pure center. "AMOORE, BALL!" I yell again, but again she leaves me hanging, instead clearing out to the three-point line and taking a contested shot. That clangs off the rim and bounces out. I explode.

"AMOORE!" I scream, charging towards 'my' point guard. "ARE YOU BLIND? OR IS IT DEAF?" I'm now face-to-face with her, the collar of her jersey now clenched in my hand. "I WAS OPEN, YOU HAD ME!" Suddenly, I realize that my screaming is overwhelming her. The tears welling in her eyes confirms it. I'm dragged away by Fegue, regretting what I've done. Georgia stares at me, tears dripping down her face.

"I'm-I'm sorry, Liz. I was overwhelmed." She barely gets the words out before the crying consumes her and she runs out the gym, face in hands.

"Elizabeth Kitley." It's Coach. I turn to him, guilty expression on my face. He keeps staring at me, disappointed etched all over. "Well? Go find her and talk to her." I sigh, but know he's right. I jog out of the gym, and begin my search.

Chapter Text

I run aimlessly through the halls of the practice facilities. By chance or by fate, I stumble upon the door to the film room. The same film room where Liz finished our tour so long ago, and where we had what one might consider a 'moment.' I open the door, and ball up in one of the ridiculously-comfy chairs. There's no stopping the tears now. As I release my emotions, I hear footsteps approaching the door. I try my best to shut myself up, but to no avail. The door opens.

"Georgia?" A meek voice comes out of the 6'6 frame peeking its head through the door. I don't respond, but it's clear Liz sees me. She enters, shutting the door behind her.

"Can I talk to you?" She asks after an awkward silence. I nod, not wanting to speak in fear that I'll resume crying. She sits down in the chair next to me, turning up my sense of deja-vu to an eleven.

Liz takes a deep breath. "I'm so, so, sorry Georgia. I never should've said those things to you. I know you're going through so much, being away from your family in this brand-new country. I hope you can forgive me at some point."

"Thanks Liz. But why?" My voice starts to shake. "Why are you treating me like this? Like-like I don't belong here!" I raise my voice, but then the tears return. I look at Liz, and she looks shocked, then remorseful.

"Oh god, Georgia. I don't know. I guess you make me feel-" she pauses. "I'm jealous." I stop crying due to the shock of her statement.

"Jealous?" I ask.

"Yeah, I mean-" she sniffles. "Geez. Even though we don't play the same position, the confidence that you have as a freshman, waltzing around a campus you hadn't been to before last November like you own it, I just never had that belief in myself." Now Liz starts to cry. Shit.

"Liz!" I exclaim. "But, you started as a freshman! Almost for the entire season!"

"Yeah, but..." She trails off. "I don't know." She facepalms. "Hah, I'm the one crying after assaulting you." I flip the armrest separating our two chairs and wrap Liz in a hug.

"Liz. We need to be here for each other. Put all that jealousy and fear aside, we are two badass Hokie basketball starters. Don't you forget it." We stay hugging for a while longer, before I break it.

"Thanks Georgia. You don't realize how much that helps me." She sniffles as we both stand. "I guess we've got to get back to practice, huh?" She sighs. "And I've got to talk to Coach. Ugh." I can't help it, I laugh.

"I mean, you kinda deserve it. Grabbing the star freshman? The audacity!!" She shoves my shoulder, but I can tell that whatever has been eating at her, it's gone now. And I feel relieved.