Thirty Two

The rhythmic hum of the bus engine filled the silence as we neared campus. Most of the team was sprawled across the seats in varying states of exhaustion. Nika was slumped against the window, her phone dangling precariously in her hand. Azzi had her hood pulled low, her headphones firmly in place as she nodded off. Paige, however, was wide awake beside me, her long legs stretched out in the aisle as she fidgeted with the hem of her hoodie.

"You're unusually quiet, mama," I teased, nudging her with my elbow.

She turned her head slightly, one eyebrow raised. "Just thinking."

"Dangerous," I quipped.

She smirked, but the usual light in her eyes seemed a little dimmer. "You ever have one of those games where, even though you win, it doesn't feel like enough?"

I paused, caught off guard by the question. "Not exactly," I admitted, "but I've had shoots where I get all the right angles and shots, and it still feels...off. Like I missed something."

"Yeah, like that." She exhaled, resting her head against the seat. "I should've been better tonight."

I studied her for a moment, the self-imposed weight of her expectations heavy in the air. "P, you had three blocks, two steals, and ten assists. You were everywhere tonight. What more could you want?"

She shrugged, her fingers now tugging at the drawstring of her hoodie. "More. Always more."

It hit me then, just how much pressure she carried—not just from the team, the fans, or the coaches, but from herself. I leaned into her slightly, lowering my voice. "You're allowed to breathe, you know. To enjoy the moment."

Her lips twitched, but she didn't respond right away. Instead, she shifted, letting her shoulder brush against mine. "You're too good at this pep talk thing, baby girl."

"What can I say? I'm multi-talented."

By the time the bus rolled to a stop, most of the team was still half-asleep. Ice groaned dramatically as she gathered her things, while Aubrey muttered something about a snack run. I grabbed my camera bag and slung it over my shoulder, waiting for Paige to move.

"You heading back to your dorm?" she asked casually as we stepped off the bus together.

"Yeah," I replied. "Got a mountain of photos to edit before Coach starts demanding them."

"You could come by the gym first," she said, her tone deceptively light. "Shoot around with me."

I blinked, caught off guard. "It's past midnight, P."

"So?"

"So, you need rest. You've got practice tomorrow."

She shrugged, the corner of her mouth quirking up. "Shooting around is how I rest."

I hesitated, the weight of her gaze pinning me in place. "You really want company?"

"I really want your company," she said, her voice dipping just enough to make my cheeks warm.

The gym was eerily quiet at this hour, the only sound our footsteps echoing across the polished floor. Paige dropped her bag near the baseline and picked up a ball, spinning it in her hands as she moved toward the free-throw line.

"Don't tell me you're just here to watch," she said, glancing over her shoulder.

I set my bag down, pulling out my camera instinctively. "Someone's gotta document this midnight madness."

She chuckled, her shot arcing perfectly into the net. "Alright, Inds. Let's see if you've got skills."

"Excuse me?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Pick up a ball," she challenged, motioning toward the rack. "I'll go easy on you."

I laughed, but her expression was dead serious. "You're kidding."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

The next ten minutes were a mix of chaos and laughter. Paige tried to teach me a basic layup, but my form was horrendous, and she doubled over laughing when I missed the backboard entirely.

"Stop laughing, P," I grumbled, wiping my forehead.

"I can't help it," she said, her voice muffled by her hoodie as she leaned against the hoop. "You're so cute when you're frustrated."

"Cute?!" I narrowed my eyes, grabbing another ball. "I'll show you cute."

My shot actually went in this time, and I threw my arms up in victory. Paige clapped mockingly, her dimple flashing as she grinned.

"Okay, baby girl," she said, stepping closer. "You've got one move down. Now let's work on your defense."

"Defense?" I asked warily.

She didn't answer. Instead, she dribbled the ball, her eyes locked on mine as she slowly backed me toward the baseline.

"P," I warned, my heart racing. "Don't—"

Too late. She darted around me with ease, scoring effortlessly.

"Unfair!" I protested, hands on my hips.

"Life's unfair, love," she said, tossing the ball back to me. "But you're doing better than I expected."

"Gee, thanks."

She laughed, stepping closer until there was barely any space between us. "You're a natural, Inds. With a little more practice, you might actually stand a chance."

I rolled my eyes, but my pulse quickened as her gaze lingered.

We didn't leave the gym until nearly 2 a.m., and by then, my arms felt like jelly from all the failed attempts at layups and free throws. Paige walked me back to my dorm, her presence steady and grounding in the quiet night.

As we reached my door, she hesitated, her hand brushing against mine.

"Thanks for hanging out tonight," she said softly.

"Anytime," I replied, my voice matching hers.

For a moment, it felt like she might say something more, but instead, she reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"Get some sleep, baby girl," she murmured, her fingers lingering for just a second before she stepped back.

I watched her disappear down the hallway, my heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with basketball.