Let's go (WNBA) Lesbians!

Chapter 12

The morning of the Providence game brought a crisp, blinding New England winter sun through the hotel curtains. For the first time in what felt like months, Paige didn’t wake up to the heavy, familiar weight of anxiety pressing down on her chest. Instead, there was just the quiet hum of the room’s heater and the steady, comforting rhythm of Azzi breathing beside her.

They had to un-combine the beds and throw the room back into its official layout before team breakfast, a frantic, laughing scramble of tossing pillows and dragging mattresses across the carpet that left them both breathless before they’d even laced up their sneakers.

When they walked into the hotel conference room for the morning meal, Paige felt a brief, instinctive urge to drop Azzi’s hand and slide into a seat unnoticed. The old habit of hiding died hard. But before she could pull away, Nika caught her eye from across the buffet line.

Nika didn’t make a scene. She just raised her coffee mug in a silent salute, a smirk playing on her lips, before turning to load up her plate with scrambled eggs. Caroline waved them over to a round table where a few spots were open next to Aaliyah.

"Morning, roommates," Caroline said smoothly, her eyes dancing with mischief as Paige and Azzi sat down.

"Shut up," Paige muttered, though she couldn't hide the flush creeping up her neck or the smile pulling at her mouth.

"Hey, I'm just stating facts," Caroline laughed, leaning back. "You both look like you actually slept for once. You're welcome, by the way."

Aaliyah looked up from her phone, sliding a glance between the two of them. "Look, as long as that energy translates to the court tonight, you can thank us by giving us ten assists each. Deal?"

"Only ten?" Azzi teased, reaching for the orange juice. "I think we can manage that."

The ease of it all was dizzying. There were no hushed whispers, no judgmental glances, no walking on eggshells like she had done in Montana. Her teammates didn't look at her like she was a stranger or a problem to be solved; they looked at her exactly the same way they always had—as their guard, their sister, their friend. They had erected a protective wall around her and Azzi, making the hotel feel like an unbreakable fortress.

By the time the bus pulled up to the Alumni Hall arena a few hours before tip-off, the lighthearted banter shifted seamlessly into business. The familiar scent of floor wax and popcorn filled the air as they walked down the concrete tunnels to the visitor's locker room.

Geno was pacing near the whiteboard, a marker clipped between his fingers. He gave Paige a sharp, assessing look as she walked in, his eyes lingering for a second as if checking the temperature of his star player. Whatever he saw in the relaxed set of her shoulders must have satisfied him, because he just nodded once.

"Alright, gather up," CD called out, clapping her hands. "We know how Providence plays at home. They’re going to try to muddy the game up, slow down the pace, and physical us out of our rhythm. Paige, I want you pushing the tempo from the jump. Don't let them set their defense."

"Got it," Paige said, her voice steady and resonant.

During the warm-up lines, the contrast from two weeks ago was night and day. The heavy fog that had clouded Paige's mind during the early part of December was entirely gone. Her shots were snapping cleanly through the net, her passes precise and sharp. But the real shift happened the moment the referee tossed the ball up for the opening tip.

Free. That was the only word for how Paige felt.

With the secret out to the people who mattered most, the suffocating fear of being exposed vanished. In its place was a clinical, lethal focus. When Providence tried to trap her at half-court on the third possession of the game, Paige didn't hesitate. She didn't even have to look. She looped a blind, over-the-shoulder bounce pass through the teeth of the defense, perfectly anticipating the exact half-second Azzi would cut baseline.

Azzi caught it in stride, rising up for a smooth, textbook reverse layup that left the Providence center grasping at air.

As they ran back down the court on defense, Azzi pointed a finger directly at Paige, a brilliant, uninhibited grin on her face. Paige met her halfway, their hands connecting in a high-five that smacked loudly over the roar of the crowd.

"Like water," Nika yelled, hustling past them to pick up her player at the top of the key. "Keep it moving!"

They blew the game open by halftime. The "instinctive language" Paige and Azzi had cultivated over the summer wasn't just back—it was amplified. Every cut Azzi made, Paige found her. Every time Paige drove into the lane and drew the extra defender, Azzi was already drifting to the open spot on the three-point arc, waiting for the kick-out. It was a masterclass in chemistry, a tangible expression of the absolute trust they had locked into place the night before.

When the final buzzer sounded, the scoreboard read a decisive twenty-four point victory for the Huskies.

In the locker room afterward, the celebration was loud, fueled by the adrenaline of a good win and the relief of surviving the holiday transition. While the rest of the team was busy shouting over a rap track playing from the speakers, Paige sat on the wooden bench, untying her sneakers with a slow, deliberate calmness.

Azzi slid onto the bench right next to her, her shoulder pressing against Paige's. They were both sweaty, exhausted, and sporting ice packs on their knees, but Azzi’s eyes were incredibly bright.

"You played out of your mind tonight," Azzi whispered, leaning in close so her voice wouldn't carry over the music.

Paige looked over at her, letting her gaze trace the familiar lines of Azzi's face, completely unbothered by who might look over. She reached down, her fingers briefly tangling with Azzi’s under the cover of a draped towel on the bench.

"I had a really good reason to," Paige murmured back, her voice thick with an emotion that had nothing to do with basketball. She let out a soft, breathy laugh, looking around the chaotic locker room at Nika doing a ridiculous dance, at Caroline laughing, at the coaching staff smiling near the doorway.

The sting of Montana wasn't entirely gone—it would take time for that wound to scar over—but sitting here, anchored by the girl beside her and the team around them, Paige knew the truth. She hadn't lost her family. She had just finally found the one that was willing to love her exactly as she was.

"We're good, Az," Paige said softly, squeezing her hand tightly under the towel. "We're really, really good."

The press room at Alumni Hall was drafty and smelled of old paper, but under the bright, humming television lights, Paige didn’t feel the chill. She sat at the long table, the plastic name card reading PAIGE BUECKERS sitting right in front of her.

To her right, Aaliyah sat like a protective buffer, her massive frame taking up space, relaxed and grinning. And just beyond Aaliyah was Azzi.

Every time a reporter directed a question down the line, Paige didn't feel the old, familiar tightening in her chest. She didn't have to carefully scan her own words for hidden meanings, or worry if a smile lasted a second too long, or wonder if someone was going to read between the lines. When a local beat writer asked about the apparent "telepathy" between her and Azzi on the baseline cuts tonight, Paige just chuckled, leaning into the microphone.

"Honestly, we’ve played together so much at this point, I think I just know her footsteps," Paige said easily, glancing past Aaliyah.

Azzi caught the look, a soft, knowing smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. "She's just giving me good passes," Azzi added into her own mic, deflection as smooth as her jumper. "Makes my job easy."

Aaliyah snorted, leaning forward so she was speaking directly into the center microphone. "Don't let them fool you, they've been doing this since they were kids. It’s annoying for the rest of us, honestly."

The room erupted into easy laughter, and Paige let out a breath that felt like it had been trapped in her lungs since she first touched down in Montana. She could breathe. The air felt lighter. The world felt wider.

Once the microphones were switched off and the digital recorders were pocketed, the three of them stood up, stretching out their stiff legs. They made their way down the quiet, concrete back hallway of the arena, their sneakers squeaking softly against the floor as they headed toward the exit where the team bus was idling in the cold night air.

But they didn't make it to the door.

Standing near the security barrier, looking entirely out of place in the sterile arena hallway but completely at home nonetheless, were Tim and Katie Fudd.

Azzi’s face lit up immediately, speeding up her pace. "Mom! Dad!"

Tim caught Azzi in a massive, sweeping hug, lifting her slightly off the ground, while Katie stepped forward. But Katie’s eyes weren't just on her daughter. Her gaze locked directly onto Paige, seeing right through the post-game adrenaline and the lingering, quiet exhaustion in the blonde girl’s posture. Katie had known about the trip to Montana. She knew what had happened.

"Hi, sweetheart," Katie murmured.

Before Paige could even offer a standard, polite greeting, Katie stepped past the boundary and wrapped her arms tightly around Paige’s shoulders.

It wasn't a quick, polite booster hug. It was total, enveloping warmth. It was the kind of maternal embrace that smelled faintly of vanilla and winter air, a hold so secure that it felt like an anchor dropping into a stormy sea. It was the exact, fierce, unconditional hug that Paige had desperately, agonizingly craved while sitting on the frozen ground beneath the Montana pine trees.

Paige froze for a fraction of a second, her hands hovering, before the last remnants of her emotional armor completely shattered. She buried her face into Katie’s shoulder, her fingers gripping the fabric of Katie's jacket like a lifeline. She didn't sob, but a heavy, shuddering sigh tore out of her throat, her shoulders dropping three inches as the tension finally drained out of her heels.

"You did so good tonight," Katie whispered near her ear, her hand coming up to gently rub the back of Paige's head, smoothing down the stray pieces of hair that had escaped her ponytail. "We are so proud of you, Paige. Both of you."

When Katie finally pulled back, she didn't let go completely, keeping her hands resting firmly on Paige’s upper arms, grounding her. Her eyes were warm, fierce, and entirely devoid of the conditional, heavy disappointment Paige had faced just days prior.

Tim stepped up next, throwing a heavy, comforting arm over Paige’s shoulder, giving her a rough, affectionate shake. "Hell of a game, kid. Your dad texted me during the second quarter—said he was watching the stream from the truck. He's thrilled."

Paige swallowed the lump in her throat, a genuine, watery smile finally breaking across her face. She looked from Katie to Tim, and then over at Azzi, who was watching her with an expression of pure, unadulterated devotion.

"Thanks, you guys," Paige said, her voice a little thick, but clearer than it had been in weeks. "For being here. For everything."

"Always," Katie said softly, giving her arms one last gentle squeeze. "Now go get on that bus before Geno starts honking the horn."

As Paige turned toward the glass exit doors, her hand naturally drifted down, her fingers finding Azzi's and locking into place out in the open, right there in the hallway. This time, Paige didn't even think about letting go

The low hum of the bus engine vibrated through the floorboards as they merged onto the highway, leaving the bright lights of Providence behind. Outside the window, the darkness of the New England winter was absolute, broken only by the occasional sweep of headlights from passing cars.

Inside, the cabin was dark and quiet, the post-game adrenaline finally giving way to exhaustion.

Paige leaned her head back against the headrest, staring up at the patterned ceiling of the bus. In the quiet, the echoes of Montana tried to creep back in. She could still hear the sharp, defensive intake of air her mother had taken. She could still feel the freezing weight of that suffocating silence in the living room, the sting of being looked at like a stranger.

But as she replayed it, she realized the volume of her mother's disappointment had been turned down. The memory didn't have the same jagged, cutting edge it had carried twenty-four hours ago. The warmth of Katie’s embrace, the proud crinkle in Tim's eyes, and the effortless, open acceptance of her teammates had wrapped around the wound like a shield. The rejection still existed, but it didn't define her room anymore.

She shifted slightly, careful not to disturb the weight on her right shoulder. Azzi was sleeping soundly, her curls spilling over the fabric of Paige's UConn hoodie. One of Azzi's hands was loosely tucked into the pocket of Paige’s sweatshirt, her breathing deep and even. Looking down at her, Paige felt a profound wave of peace.

"P."

The soft whisper came from across the narrow aisle. Paige turned her head.

The dim blue floor-lights of the bus caught the sharp angles of Nika’s face. She was leaning across the aisle, her chin resting on her hand, watching Paige with that intense, fiercely protective look she only ever used for the people she considered family.

"How are you doing? Really?" Nika asked softly, her accent rounding out the words. She offered a small, uncharacteristic grin. "And don't give me the media answer, twin. I know you."

Paige let out a tiny, breathless laugh, the old "twin" nickname warming her chest. She looked from Nika down to Azzi’s sleeping face, then back to Nika.

"I'm okay," Paige whispered honestly. She swallowed, adjusting her shoulder just a fraction to keep Azzi comfortable. "Honestly. It’s… baby steps, I think. My mom's voice is still kind of stuck in my head, but… it doesn't hurt nearly as bad as it did. Especially after tonight."

Nika’s expression softened, the tough-guard exterior melting away completely. She nodded slowly, understanding the weight of what Paige was carrying without needing her to catalog every painful detail.

"Good," Nika murmured, leaning a little closer across the aisle. Her voice was steady, leaving no room for doubt. "Because you know we are here for you guys, right? Whatever you need. Always. If your family doesn't get it, that's on them. You have us. We're your family too."

Paige felt a sudden, familiar tightness in her throat, but this time it wasn't from sadness. It was the overwhelming gratitude of being completely seen and completely kept safe.

"I know," Paige whispered, her voice cracking just a little. "Thank you, Nika. Seriously."

Nika just flashed her a warm, reassuring smile and patted Paige's knee across the aisle before leaning back into her own seat, pulling her headphones back over her ears.