Thirty Three

When I woke up the next morning, the soreness in my arms was a harsh reminder that playing defense against Paige was basically signing up for a full-body workout. Every stretch pulled at muscles I didn't even know I had, and yet I couldn't bring myself to regret a single second of last night.

Her laugh, the way she playfully taunted me, her quiet seriousness in those rare unguarded moments—it all replayed in my mind like a highlight reel.

But reality came crashing back with the alarm on my phone, blaring and relentless. It was a full day—film review for the team, editing deadlines for me, and a looming evening game to prep for. I groaned, slapping at the snooze button. No rest for the overworked, right?

By the time I made it to the gym for shootaround, the energy was buzzing. The girls were scattered across the court, passing, shooting, and cracking jokes loud enough to drown out the music playing over the speakers.

"Look who finally decided to join us!" Azzi called, motioning at me dramatically from the three-point line.

"Some of us don't roll out of bed with perfect form," I shot back, hoisting my camera bag onto my shoulder.

"Perfect form? You've seen her free throws, right?" Nika chimed in, jogging by with the ball.

Azzi gasped, clutching her chest as if she'd been personally attacked. "Wow, Nika. That's how we're doing this today?"

"Always," Nika said, winking before returning to her warm-up.

I set up my equipment near the sideline, quickly adjusting the camera settings. Paige was off to the side, practicing her mid-range jumper with an intensity that told me she was still thinking about last night. Her movements were fluid, focused, and precise, but there was a tension in her shoulders that hadn't been there before.

"Hey, mama," I called, leaning against the tripod.

She glanced over, a small smile breaking through her concentration. "Morning, baby girl."

"How're you feeling?"

"Better," she said, brushing a stray hair out of her face. "Thanks for keeping me sane last night."

"Anytime," I replied, trying not to focus too hard on the way she said "keeping me sane" like it was something only I could do.

Shootaround wrapped up quicker than usual, and before long, the team was heading into the film room. I trailed behind, camera slung over my shoulder as I snapped candid shots of the girls goofing around. Aubrey was throwing grapes into Ice's mouth, while Ayanna provided overly dramatic play-by-play commentary.

"India!" Aubrey yelled suddenly, catching me mid-step.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me you got Ice's epic fail on camera just now," she said, pointing at Ice, who was shaking her head furiously.

"Please don't tell me you're turning into TMZ," Ice groaned.

"Relax, Ice Queen," I teased, lowering my camera. "Your reputation's safe...for now."

"She's lying," Aubrey whispered loudly, earning a glare from Ice.

"Y'all are so loud," Paige muttered as she slid into one of the chairs near the front.

"You love us," Aubrey shot back, earning a rare laugh from Paige.

Film sessions were always fascinating to watch—not just because of the analysis, but because of the dynamic between the players and the coaching staff. Coach Geno had a way of commanding attention without raising his voice, his sharp wit cutting through any distractions.

"Azzi," he started, pausing the screen mid-play, "why are you half-guarding here? What, were you expecting an invitation to the basket?"

The room erupted in laughter, and Azzi threw her hands up in mock surrender. "I'll do better, Coach."

"You'd better," he replied, though there was no real bite behind his words.

When Paige's turn came up, I noticed how the room fell quieter, the focus sharper. Coach didn't have to say much to her—he never did—but the subtle nod he gave her at the end of her sequence seemed to mean everything.

"Good work," he said simply, and I caught the briefest flicker of pride in her expression before she masked it again.

After the meeting, Paige caught up with me near the locker room. "You sticking around for practice?"

"Of course," I said. "I've got to capture all the chaos for the archives."

"Chaos? Us?" she said, feigning innocence.

I raised an eyebrow. "Don't make me pull up the footage from yesterday's drill mishap."

"That was one time," she said, laughing as she leaned against the wall. "You're relentless."

"It's part of my charm," I said, sticking my tongue out at her.

She shook her head, that soft smile tugging at her lips again. "You coming to the game tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it," I replied.

The hours blurred together after that. I spent most of the afternoon hunched over my laptop, editing photos and uploading them to the team's shared drive. By the time I made it back to the arena for the game, the atmosphere was electric.

The stands were packed, the student section louder than ever. I moved through the crowd with practiced ease, capturing everything from warm-ups to the pre-game huddle. Paige stood at the center, her hand gripping the ball tightly as she spoke to the team.

Whatever she said worked. The girls hit the court with fire in their eyes, and it wasn't long before the scoreboard reflected it.

Paige was unstoppable tonight—her passes were clean, her defense suffocating, and her drives to the basket nothing short of surgical. Every time she scored, the crowd roared louder, and I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride.

After the final buzzer, the team celebrated their victory on the court, and I stayed back, capturing the candid moments that made all the late nights worth it. Paige found me as the crowd began to disperse, her jersey damp with sweat and her grin wide.

"Got everything you need, Inds?" she asked, draping an arm over my shoulder.

"More than enough," I said, holding up my camera.

"Good." She tugged me a little closer, her voice dropping. "Thanks for always showing up."

Her words hit me harder than I expected, and for a moment, I couldn't find the right response.

"Always," I finally managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

And in that moment, with the echoes of the game still lingering in the air, I realized just how much I meant it.