Pazziforlife

There was something off about all of them, not in a bad way, just… unfamiliar. Loud, expressive, and comfortable in ways Azzi wasn’t used to anymore. But the most obvious was Paige.

Paige had definitely stood out, Azzi noticing she had been red the entire time. Not just a little flushed, completely, unmistakably red. Like she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. It made Azzi’s stomach twist in a way she didn’t want to think too hard about. She hoped it hadn’t been her unpronounced visit that made the blonde so uncomfortable. 

Azzi hesitated for a second before signing again. Carol, what’s the deal with Paige?

Carol let out a small laugh. “Paige? Oh, she’s harmless. She puts on this tough front, but there’s almost nothing behind it.” She paused, smirking slightly. “I say almost because there have been a few holes punched in walls after rough games. But hey, anger gets to all of us in different ways.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow.

“Hopefully,” Carol added, her smile growing, “with you here, there won’t be so many losses anymore.”

Azzi’s expression shifted into her thinking face, her brows pulling together slightly.

Is she as good as people say?

Carol didn’t even hesitate. “Better.” She leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms. “On the court, yeah—she’s insanely talented. But what really makes her one of the best is everything she does off the court. The work, the discipline… she doesn’t cut corners, takes every critique from her coach and uses it to her advantage. There isn’t really a flaw in her game.”

She could use some work on her defense, Azzi thought, but decided to keep that to herself.

Then Carol tilted her head, studying Azzi more closely.

“Why are you asking about Paige so much?”

Azzi shook her head quickly. No reason. Just need to know what the captain is all about.

Carol hummed, clearly not fully convinced, but she let it go.

“Well, Paige is nice,” she continued, “but when she’s in captain mode? She means business. If she yells at you, it’s not personal, it’s just how she leads.”

Azzi gave a small nod. I’ll try not to take it personally.

But the truth sat heavily in her chest.

She hated being yelled at. She hated loud voices. Sudden noise. The kind of energy that filled a room too fast, too aggressively. And Paige… from everything Azzi remembered, and everything she’d heard, was loud on the court. Confident. Commanding. Probably even louder now.

Azzi swallowed slightly. She knew this wasn’t something she could avoid forever. She’d have to face it.

How is everyone else on the team? she signed, shifting the conversation, trying not to show to much interest in one particular player. 

Carol’s face lit up immediately.

“Oh, they’re crazy,” she said without hesitation. “But in the best way possible. We have a lot of fun together.”

She started counting them off on her fingers.

“KK is basically our child right now, only a sophomore, so she’s still figuring things out. Nika? Total big sister. She’ll have your back no matter what, but she’ll also roast you while doing it. Ice is auntie energy all the way.” Carol shrugged playfully. “And I guess that makes me the mom of the group.”

Azzi nodded slowly.

That made sense. There was something about Carol, something steady. Calm. Safe. A kind of quiet warmth that didn’t demand anything from her. Azzi couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that around someone so quickly.

“And of course,” Carol added, grinning, “Geno is grandpa. Tough exterior, but a complete softie underneath.”

She gave Azzi a knowing look. “Although… I feel like you got to his soft side on day one. It took the rest of us at least a year.”

Azzi’s lips twitched slightly.

“Do you know Geno well?” Carol asked.

Kinda, Azzi signed. He’s been recruiting me for five years at this point.

Carol’s eyes widened. “Five years? And you finally said yes?”

Azzi shrugged. Gotta give him a bone eventually.

Carol burst out laughing. “You’re funny, Azzi. I think you’re really going to love this team.”

Azzi smiled politely. But the feeling didn’t quite reach her chest. Not yet, at least.

“Hey,” Carol said suddenly, “do you have Instagram? Let me follow you.”

Azzi froze for half a second.

Instagram.

She had almost forgotten about her account entirely. It had been almost six months since she posted anything, not even her commitment had been public yet. Slowly, she pulled out her phone, opened the app, and handed it over without looking.

Here. Type it in.

Carol took the phone but then paused. Her eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t know Paige followed you.”

Azzi blinked. Confusion hit instantly. She doesn’t; she signed quickly. She knew that for a fact.

There had been nights, maybe a few too many, where Azzi had scrolled through Paige’s Instagram page for far too long. Watching. Observing. Looking at what her life could’ve looked like if things had gone differently.

Paige had never followed her.

“Well…” Carol said slowly, still staring at the screen. “She liked one of your pictures.” She said, showing her the notification that had come up when she went to her page. 

Azzi stepped closer, leaning in beside her.

Her stomach dropped.

Carol tapped the notification, and the post opened, an old photo from 2022. There it was. Liked by paigebueckers.

Azzi stared at it, her mind scrambling to make sense of it. Must’ve been a glitch, she signed, though her movements were slower now, less certain.

Carol shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe she was stalking you and accidentally liked it.” She grinned. “Honestly? That sounds exactly like something she would do. I’ve been behind the scenes before.”

Azzi didn’t laugh. Didn’t even know what to make of this situation. None of this made any sense.  Azzi had always been the one looking. Not Paige.

And if Paige had been looking… why not follow her? Why stay distant like that? Why pretend she didn’t exist?

Azzi straightened, gently taking her phone back. Whatever, she signed. It doesn’t matter.And it shouldn’t.

Paige was in the past. That was all she was. A past version of something that never even got the chance to become real. And now they were just teammates. Nothing more.

———————————————

Practice was called earlier than expected. Something about “necessary changes,” according to Geno, but no one seemed to know what that actually meant.

Azzi hadn’t slept. Not really. Her mind had been running in circles all night. UConn, her mom, the incident, Basketball, and now, added into the chaos, Paige.

There had always been something magnetic about her. Then yesterday, being in her apartment, seeing her space, her life, the small details that made everything feel real, it had only made that feeling stronger.

Even something as simple as her voice… That quiet, almost shy “Hi.”

It had stuck with Azzi more than it should have. More than any greeting ever had.

Azzi shook her head slightly as she walked toward the gym.

No.

She needed to focus.

On practice. On the team. On her game, no one else’s. 

Definitely not on the girl who had once unknowingly turned her world upside down.

Azzi arrived early. Of course she did. The gym was quiet—exactly how she liked it. Five racks of basketballs were already set up, perfectly spaced. She paused for a moment.

Geno knew her too well.

Without thinking too hard about it, she slipped on her headphones, letting the music fill the silence. Then she stepped onto the court.

Dribble. Set. Shoot.

The rhythm came back slowly, like muscle memory waking up after a long sleep. And for the first time since she arrived, everything else faded. Just a little.

———————————————

Paige decided to come to practice earlier than usual; she needed to get her body moving. Last night had been stressful, thinking about the like, and now that she believed Azzi thought Paige was the biggest creep on the planet, she had to find a way to relax. But it seemed almost impossible. Ever since she saw Azzi the night before, there had been this restless energy under her skin, like she couldn’t sit still even if she tried. 

Seeing Azzi actually smile, actually seem like she wanted to be there, made everything feel a bit more right. 

But somehow, that made things worse. There was no secret edge to her. No attitude, no hidden motive. Just… shyness. At least that’s what Paige had landed on for now.

As she stepped into the hallway, the sharp echo of a basketball hitting hardwood caught her attention. Paige frowned slightly. No one ever beats me to the gym. In fact, she liked it in that way, just her, the court, and the ball, easing into a comfortable rhythm. It was her usual. 

She pushed the door open quietly.

Azzi stood at the three-point line, completely alone, moving like she’d been there for hours. Shot after shot, clean release, perfect arc, swish.

Another one.

Swish.

Not a single miss.

Paige stopped just inside the doorway, leaning lightly against the frame, watching. There was something almost… peaceful about it. The repetition. The silence. The way Azzi didn’t rush, didn’t hesitate, just shot like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.

For a second, Paige considered turning around and leaving her alone, but her own shots hadn’t been falling like that lately. Not even close. So she exhaled quietly and stepped in.

Azzi had all the balls. Of course she did.

Paige hesitated before calling out. “Azzi,” she said, not too loud.

Nothing.

Azzi didn’t even flinch.

Paige tried again, a little louder.

“Azzi.”

Still nothing.

Paige let out a small breath through her nose.

She walked closer, sneakers squeaking softly against the floor. Now she could hear the faint noise leaking from Azzi’s headphones, music turned up just enough to shut the world out.

Paige hovered for a second.

She could just grab a ball from the rack. Azzi probably wouldn’t even notice. But… that felt weird. Rude.

So instead, Paige reached out and tapped her shoulder.

Azzi jolted. Like, actually jumped, spinning around with wide eyes, a flash of real fear crossing her face before it settled.

Paige’s stomach dropped immediately. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Paige rushed out, hands coming up instinctively. “I called your name a few times, but your headphones—you were locked in—I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m so sorry.” The words tumbled over each other.

For a split second, Paige thought she’d completely messed it up.

But then Azzi laughed.

Soft. Quick. Real.

Paige blinked, then let out a small laugh of her own, shoulders loosening just a little.

Okay. Not traumatized. That’s a good start. 

“Is it okay if I take one ball?” Paige asked, holding up one finger like she needed permission.

Azzi nodded once, already turning back toward the hoop.

Just like that.

Conversation over.

Paige lingered for half a second longer than she should have, then forced herself to move, grabbing a ball and heading to the opposite side of the court.

She started where she always did, free throws.

Dribble.

Spin.

Shoot.

Clank.

Paige grimaced slightly.

Again.

This time it dropped.

After a few minutes, she shifted into ball handling, focusing on control, rhythm, precision, something she knew she needed to tighten up this season.

Across the court, Azzi couldn’t miss. 

Swish.

Bounce.

Swish.

Bounce.

The steady rhythm of Azzi’s shooting settled into Paige’s own movements, syncing without her even realizing it and weirdly… she didn’t mind it. Paige usually hated warming up around other people. It threw her off, made her feel watched, judged, even if no one actually cared.

But this? This felt… different. Comforting, almost. Like they were in two separate worlds that somehow fit together perfectly.

A few minutes passed before the rhythm on the other side suddenly stopped.

Paige slowed her dribble, glancing up. Then she heard it, the low rumble of metal racks rolling across the court. She turned fully.

Azzi was dragging two full racks toward her.

“Azzi,” Paige called out, half-laughing, “I’m okay with just one ball.”

No response. Azzi kept moving the racks. One rack, then another, and another.

All five racks.

Paige stared as Azzi lined them up neatly beside her, exactly the way they’d been set up on the other side.

“…Are these for me?” Paige asked, eyebrows raised.

Azzi nodded.

And smiled.

Not the small, polite one from before, something fuller, warmer.

It caught Paige off guard more than the shooting did. “Okay,” Paige said slowly, a grin creeping onto her face. “But if I beat you, you owe me twenty bucks.”

No response, but Azzi’s eyes flickered toward her, just slightly. Then she backed away and let Paige take control.

Paige took her first shot.

Miss.

Second.

Miss.

Third.

Miss.

“Great start,” she muttered under her breath. “Good job embarrassing yourself, Bueckers” 

But then—

Something clicked.

The next one dropped.

Then another.

And another.

Twelve in a row.

Easy.

By the time she hit the last two racks, she’d only missed twice.

Paige exhaled hard, running a hand through her hair as she walked back toward Azzi.

“Damn,” she said, slightly out of breath. “That’s harder than it looks.” Paige was now only a few feet away from Azzi. She finally noticed her dimples again, up close, after all these years. It was like coming home after years in the army.

Azzi’s smile widened just a little, clearly amused.

Paige narrowed her eyes playfully.

“What, you think that’s funny?”

She stepped closer, still catching her breath.

“How many did you get?” Paige asked, tilting her head, expecting, hoping, for some kind of answer this time.

Azzi froze for just a second.

But then, “Oh, perfect.”

Both of them turned.

Geno Auriemma stood at the edge of the court, smiling like he’d just walked into exactly what he wanted.

“I was looking for, well, both of you, actually.”

Paige and Azzi glanced at each other, the same question passing silently between them.

Did we forget something?

“Come on,” Geno said, already turning toward the door. “We’ve got an interesting meeting ahead of us.”

Interesting? Paige did not like the sound of that.

Geno slipped right between them, motioning for them to follow.

Paige fell into step on one side, Azzi on the other.

For a brief second, Paige glanced over, Azzi was already looking at her.

Both of them raised their eyebrows slightly. Oh shit. What is he about to do?

Neither of them said a word. But somehow they had both been thinking the exact same thing.

————————————————

As the three of them stepped into the film room, the low hum of conversation didn’t just fade; it cut off. Like someone had hit mute, every head turned towards the two girls, surprised to see them together, some teammates knowing Azzi was Paige’s type. 

Paige felt it immediately—the shift, the attention, the questions. And then she realized why.

Her.

And Azzi.

Walking in together.

Side by side.

Close enough that it could’ve meant something. But Paige knew it didn’t. Nothing happened, nothing was said. There was nothing there, but it felt like there could have been if they could have only had a couple more minutes. 

A few eyebrows shot up.

Paige’s shoulders stiffened just slightly. Yeah. No. Definitely not dealing with that today.

Almost on instinct, she broke off, heading straight for her usual seat next to Nika without a second glance.

Across the room, Azzi did the same, slipping into the chair beside Caroline like nothing had happened.

Separate.

Normal.

But still, Paige felt it. That subtle shift in her chest. Like something had just… gone missing. A piece that was always meant to be there. Like Azzi was supposed to be sitting beside her and not Nika. She tried hard not to look at Azzi. But she was aware of her. Exactly where she was sitting. Exactly how far away, seeing the way, she smiled at Caroline. 

“Bro,” KK leaned in, voice low but urgent, “what is this meeting? Why does everyone look half-dead?”

Paige leaned back, dragging a hand over her face.

“No clue,” she muttered. “But if it’s film this early, I’m suing.”

KK snorted. “You can’t sue the program you play for.”

“Watch me.” Paige said, already sick of whatever Geno was trying to pull this early in the morning. 

A few of the girls around them laughed quietly.

“Geno’s got something up his ass,” Paige added under her breath.

“Shocking,” Nika whispered dryly.

Across the room Caroline nudged Azzi lightly. “Do you know what this is about?” she asked, quieter than the others.

Azzi shook her head. Her face stayed composed, but her fingers tapped lightly against her thigh—fast, uneven. Thinking, watching, waiting for what was to come. 

Across the room, her eyes flicked up and for just a split second, they met Paige’s.

Paige hadn’t meant to look, but she just couldn’t resist. And Azzi caught it. Neither of them looked away right away.

It lingered.

A second too long.

Then Paige broke it first, shifting in her seat, jaw tightening slightly.

Azzi dropped her gaze just as quickly.

Caroline noticed, but she decided not to say anything, noting she had to give Azzi the “Paige” speech later.

“Alright, ladies.” The room snapped back into focus.

Geno stood at the front, arms crossed, looking far too satisfied for seven in the morning.“Thanks for being on time,” he said. “We’ve got a long day ahead, so I’ll make this quick.”

Paige sat up straighter. She had never heard Geno so chipper this early in the day. Yeah, this was definitely not normal.

Geno clapped once. “First, I got some lineup changes. Don’t bitch and complain, just listen.”

“Already?” someone muttered.

“We just got here—” another voice complained.

Geno ignored all of it.

“KK—point guard.”

KK blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

A few girls turned immediately toward Paige.

“Shooting guard—Azzi.”

Azzi’s head lifted slowly. Her eyes flicked up again instinctively, to Paige.

Paige felt it but couldn’t look, couldn’t react. She knew these changes were because of Azzi and she couldn’t face that right now. 

“Small forward—Paige.”

That did it.

Paige’s head snapped up. “What?” It came out before she could stop it. “Coach,” Paige said, trying to get his attention. He continued on without so much as a glance towards the blonde. 

The room went still for half a second, then exploded into whispers.

Ice leaned forward. “You’re deadass?”

“Power forward, Ice. Center, Sarah.” 

But Paige wasn’t listening anymore. Small forward? Her hands curled slightly against her knees. Her pulse ticked up. She didn’t even realize she was staring at him.

“Stop with all the whispering,” Geno cut in, raising a hand. “I’m not done.”

The room quieted, barely.

Geno’s eyes moved across the room, like he was searching for his next victim, then stopped looking between Paige and Azzi. “I also think this year we need a shift in leadership,” Geno said. 

Paige felt something drop in her stomach. No, he better not.

“Paige, you and Azzi will be co-captains.”

Silence filled the room. No one could even begin to form a thought. 

“What, Coach, you’re joking—” Paige said with a laugh, “She just got here, how does that even work?”

The room erupted.

Paige didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Co-captains?

Her eyes moved on their own, landing directly on Azzi. Azzi was already looking at her. Completely frozen. 

Her lips parted slightly, like she was about to say something, but nothing came out. Her chest rose a little too fast. Her hands tightened in her lap. Panic started to ensue. This is not what I came here for.

Paige could feel that Azzi didn’t want this as much as Paige. 

That reaction didn’t match the moment.

“Wait…” KK leaned across Paige, whispering harshly, “how is this realistically going to work?”

Paige didn’t answer; she was still looking at Azzi.

And Azzi couldn’t hold eye contact anymore. The panic sinking in. She dropped her gaze, shoulders pulling in just slightly. Like she wanted to disappear.

Something about that made Paige feel worse.

“Make it work,” Geno said simply, pointing between them.

Like it was nothing. Like it was easy.

Paige let out a sharp breath, standing up this time. “For real?” she said, not even trying to hide it now.

The room went quiet again.

“Sit down,” Nika hissed under her breath.

“No,” Paige said, eyes still locked on Geno. “I’m not—no. You don’t just do that.”

“Paige,” Geno warned.

“No,” she repeated, shaking her head. “You move me out of position and then throw this on top of it? With no conversation?”

A pause.

Then, quieter, but sharper,  “With her?”

The room went dead silent.

Azzi’s head lifted slightly.

That one word landed harder than she anticiapted. 

If Paige doesn’t believe this could work than why would I? Azzi thought. 

Geno’s expression didn’t change. “Careful,” he said.

Paige exhaled hard, running a hand through her hair. “Then explain it,” she shot back. “Because right now, no of this is making any sense.”

A beat, then, “Do you trust me?” Geno asked.

Paige laughed once, short and dry. 

“That’s not an answer.” Geno hissed back.

“It’s the only one you need.” Paige stared at him. Did she trust him? Yeah. Of course, she did; he had been the reason for all her successes. Did that make this any less frustrating? No.

Her eyes flicked again to Azzi. Azzi wasn’t looking at her this time. Just staring at the floor. Still. Too still.

“Practice in ten,” Geno said. “Be ready.” And just like that, he started walking out of the room.

The room erupted again. “No way that just happened—”

“Paige at the three is crazy—”

“Co-captains???”

Paige didn’t hear any of it. She was already moving. “Geno.” He kept walking. “Geno.” Now he stopped.

The room slowly emptied, but not quietly—everyone watching, whispering, glancing back.

Azzi didn’t move right away. She stood slowly.

Watched Paige. Waited to get her approval.

Paige didn’t look at her. Didn’t even try.

“Office,” Geno said. Paige followed immediately.

The door shut behind them. Silence pressed in. Paige didn’t sit. Didn’t breathe for a second.“This is a mistake.”

Geno leaned against his desk. “Which part, smartass?”

“You know which part,” Paige said, not wanting to play games right now. 

“Say it.”

Paige turned, pacing once. “First, you move me out of my position,” she said, sharper now. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll deal with that. I’ll work hard to get it back, I don’t care.” She stopped. Looked at him in disbelief

“But co-captains?” Her voice dropped.“With someone who just got here? I know you feel some kinda of paternal way towards her, but we don’t know her. How are you going to do that? You're not only doing this to me, but to the rest of the team.”

Geno didn’t respond.

That made it worse.

“I’m serious,” Paige continued. “How am I supposed to lead with someone who doesn’t communicate? She doesn’t call things out, she doesn’t respond, she just…” She stopped. Frustrated.

“She just what?” Geno asked quietly.

Paige shook her head. “You’ve seen it.”

“No,” he said. “You’ve assumed it.”

Paige scoffed. “Then tell me what I’m missing. How can I do this with her and have a successful team at the end of it?”

A pause. Longer this time.

Geno straightened slightly. And when he spoke again, “She’s not choosing to be quiet.”

Paige frowned. “What does that mean?”

Geno held her gaze. “She can’t speak, Paige.”

The room went still. “…What?”

“She’s mute,” he said.

No buildup, no softening. Just the truth.

Paige blinked, once, twice. Like her brain needed time to catch up. “She—she can’t talk?”

“No.”

Everything rewound at once. Her calling her name, no response. The headphones, the silence. The small smiles with no attempt at anything else. The hesitation, the look on her face just now. Panic.

“Oh,” Paige breathed. Her voice was completely different now. Quieter. Rougher. “I didn’t—”

“I know. You weren’t supposed to, at least not coming from me.”

Paige looked down, shaking her head slightly.

“Does anyone else know?”

“No.”

“And you made her captain?” Paige asked, looking back up. “You put that on her? That’s somehow worse, coach, she’s probably scared shitless right now, and you couldn’t even give her a heads up.”

Geno stepped closer. “I’m giving her the opportunity to grow into the person she already is,” he said. “You just can’t see it yet. She’s the best player in the country. You need help, Paige. Last year, we put it all on you; this year, we aren’t. I think this partnership between the two of you can be a good thing.”

Paige swallowed. The gym flashed in her mind. The rhythm. The control. The way everything felt… steady when Azzi was there.

“…I felt it,” she admitted.

Geno nodded once, his expression steady but not unkind. “You’re loud,” he said simply. “She’s not. That doesn’t make her any less of a leader.” He let that sit for a moment before continuing, his voice softer now, more deliberate. “There are a lot of ways to lead, Paige. Not all of them sound the same. This year, things are going to change. And you’re going to have to learn a different way of communicating.”

Paige let out a slow breath, the tension in her shoulders easing just slightly, though not completely. She nodded, more to herself than to him. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I guess I am.”

She turned toward the door, hand wrapping around the handle, but something stopped her before she could open it. “Does she know you told me?”

Geno didn’t hesitate. “No.”

Paige winced, her grip tightening for a second. “Great.”

“Practice,” he reminded her, not unkindly this time.

Paige nodded once, then pushed the door open.

And froze.

Azzi was standing right there in the hallway, leaning lightly against the wall like she’d been waiting, but not impatiently. Just… there. One hand tugged absentmindedly at the hem of her practice tee, fingers fidgeting in a quiet, nervous rhythm. When the door opened, she straightened almost immediately, like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t be.

Her eyes found Paige’s right away.

There was nothing casual about it.

They were careful. Searching. Almost hesitant, like she was trying to read something she wasn’t sure she wanted to understand.

Paige didn’t look away.

Not this time.

Not like before.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The space between them felt different now—thicker, heavier, filled with everything Paige had just learned and everything Azzi didn’t know she knew.

But Paige saw it now.

All of it.

The silence that wasn’t emptiness. The hesitation that wasn’t shyness. The way Azzi held herself was like she was always bracing for something: judgment, confusion, distance.

And Azzi felt it.

The shift.

Something in Paige’s expression had changed, and Azzi caught it instantly. Her fingers stilled against her shirt, then dropped slowly to her sides, hands curling slightly like she didn’t know what to do with them anymore.

She waited. For a reaction, a question, something, anything.

Paige exhaled slowly, still standing in the doorway, still looking at her. Everything she had said just minutes ago echoed in her head, louder now, sharper, heavier.

With her standing right there.

And for the first time, Paige didn’t feel irritated.

She felt… wrong. Like she had missed something important that had been right in front of her the whole time.

And somehow, that made this harder than being angry ever did.

“Hey,” Paige said quietly.

Azzi stilled completely.

It was just one word, but it landed.

Paige watched as Azzi swallowed slightly, then reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Her fingers moved quickly at first, then slowed, hovering over the screen like she was second-guessing herself.

She stared at it for a moment longer, gathering something—courage, maybe.

Then she turned the phone toward Paige.

Hi, co-captain. I thought you should know before we move forward. I’m mute.

Paige read it once. Then again.

Her chest tightened.

She looked up, meeting Azzi’s eyes immediately this time—no hesitation, no confusion, just something softer. More honest.

“I know,” Paige said.

The words came out quieter than she expected.

Azzi’s expression flickered, surprise, then something more cautious. Her brows pulled together slightly.

“Geno told me,” Paige added, a small, almost apologetic smile tugging at her lips. “The old man doesn’t really know how to ease people into things.”

For a second, Azzi just stared at her.

Then—

A small laugh escaped her. Silent, but real. Her shoulders relaxed just a little, some of the tension slipping out of her frame.

She looked down again, typing.

So… do you still want to do this?

This time, Paige didn’t answer right away.

She took a second. Maybe longer than that.

Not because she didn’t know—but because she wanted to get it right.

Her eyes lifted from the screen back to Azzi.

And stayed there.

“Yes,” she said finally, her voice steady now. “Yeah, I do. Do you?”

Azzi smiled. She nooded

A hint of Paige’s usual confidence slipped back in,“Ok, Co-captain.”

Azzi’s lips curved into a real smile this time—unrestrained, brighter than anything Paige had seen from her yet.

And just like that, something shifted.

Not fixed.

Not easy.

But real.