Seventeen

The sound of sneakers squeaking against the hardwood and the rhythm of basketballs bouncing filled the gym as I walked into practice the next morning. The team was already mid-drill, and their energy was infectious. The UConn women's basketball program didn't just work hard—they thrived in it.

I spotted Lou in the corner, leading a shooting drill with Azzi and Aaliyah. Lou had that calm authority that made everyone listen, but her goofy side wasn't far below the surface. She turned her head, caught me watching, and shot me a quick, playful wink before going back to shouting out directions.

Paige, of course, was dead center on the court, running point in a scrimmage. Her presence was magnetic, every movement sharp and purposeful. She had a confidence about her that wasn't just swagger—it was earned. She glanced my way as she dished a perfect assist to Caroline, who nailed the jumper.

"Eyes up, Baby Girl," she called out to me, her smirk audible even from across the gym.

I flushed, realizing I'd been caught staring. Again. "Focus on your own game, P," I shot back, but my voice betrayed how flustered I felt.

She grinned, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

I settled into my spot along the sideline, camera at the ready. One of my favorite things about this job was capturing the team's intensity—the sweat, the determination, the fleeting moments of joy when a tough play paid off.

"India! Get me on this one!" Nika's voice cut through the noise as she raced down the court. She didn't even look my way, too focused on setting up a fast break.

"Only if you do something worth capturing, Nika!" I yelled back, earning a few laughs from the staff seated nearby.

True to form, Nika delivered, weaving through defenders and finishing with a flashy layup. She turned to me as she jogged back on defense, pantomiming a camera click with her fingers.

"I better see that on Instagram later!" she called out.

"You got it, star player," I replied with a laugh.

As practice wound down, the girls split off into smaller groups. Paige and Azzi worked on free throws while Caroline and Nika challenged each other to a game of HORSE. I took the opportunity to grab some candid shots.

"You really don't take a break, huh?" Paige's voice startled me. She'd snuck up behind me, a towel slung around her neck and a water bottle in hand.

"Just doing my job," I said, lowering the camera.

She tilted her head, her gaze sliding over me in a way that made my skin prickle. "You make it look easy."

I snorted. "Coming from you, that's rich."

Paige chuckled, stepping closer until there was barely a foot of space between us. "I think we make a good team, Inds."

The way she said it—low and deliberate—made my pulse skip.

"Team?" I echoed, forcing myself to hold her gaze.

"You capture the magic," she said simply, gesturing to my camera. "I just make it happen."

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks were burning. "Modest as ever, Mama."

Her smile widened. "You love it."

The rest of the morning flew by, with the team wrapping up practice and heading into meetings. I found a quiet spot in the hallway to review my photos, scrolling through the shots and tagging my favorites.

"That one's fire."

I looked up to find Azzi leaning over my shoulder, pointing at a picture of Paige mid-layup, her expression fierce and focused.

"Yeah, she's not bad," I said with a grin.

Azzi laughed. "Not bad? Come on, India. You've got a front-row seat to greatness, and you know it."

I shook my head, but I couldn't deny the truth in her words. Paige wasn't just good—she was exceptional.

Later that afternoon, I found myself in the lounge with Lou, Aaliyah, and Aubrey, who were deep in a heated debate about the best pre-game hype songs.

"Anything with a solid beat," Lou argued, scrolling through her playlist. "You need something that hits."

Aaliyah shook her head. "Nah, it's gotta have good lyrics. Something that hypes you and makes you think."

"What about you, India?" Aubrey asked, turning to me.

"Don't ask her," Paige's voice cut in as she walked into the room. "She's got the worst taste in music."

I turned to her, incredulous. "Excuse me?"

"You still listen to those corny throwback love songs," she said, dropping onto the couch beside me.

"Those songs are classics," I shot back.

Paige grinned, clearly enjoying how riled up I was. "Whatever you say, Baby Girl."

Aubrey laughed. "You two are like an old married couple."

Paige and I both froze, our eyes locking for a brief moment before we quickly looked away.

"Whatever," I muttered, grabbing my phone and pretending to be engrossed in my email.

That evening, as the team headed out for dinner, Paige fell into step beside me.

"You doing okay, Inds?" she asked, her tone softer than usual.

"Yeah," I said, glancing up at her. "Why?"

She shrugged. "You just seem... quiet today."

I hesitated before answering. "Just thinking."

"About?"

I bit my lip, debating whether or not to say it. "About what you said earlier. About us being a team."

Paige stopped walking, turning to face me. "What about it?"

"I guess I'm just wondering if you mean it," I admitted.

Her expression softened, and for once, there was no teasing in her voice. "I don't say things I don't mean, India."

There was something in her tone—something real and unguarded—that made my heart skip.

"Good to know," I said quietly.

Paige smiled, reaching out to give my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Come on, Baby Girl. Let's go eat."

And just like that, the moment was over. But as I followed her down the hallway, I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—Paige Bueckers was a lot more than just a teammate.