charlotte🏀🤍

azzi was not ready for training camp. she’d nearly gotten whiplash from the speed of which her life was going. she’d just wrapped up her collegiate career, been drafted, moved across the fucking country, and now she was about to walk into the next four years of her life. 

she felt like she was a kid again. she’d spent four years at college and became head huncho there. here she was a little fish again. she had no rank here, no one cared about who she was. 

the california sun beat on her as she stood outside of the sephora performance center. it was huge— bigger than anywhere she’d practiced or played before. she knew it used to belong to the warriors and azzi kept thinking about the fact that steph fucking curry used to be in this building every day.

she told herself that steph had been the seventh pick and he changed the game of basketball. that was number one and she had nothing to worry about and that  it was ridiculous for her to be standing outside of this place, questioning her entire life. 

she felt like she was going to faint, and she didn’t know if it was because of the weather, or because she was about to meet her new co-worker, paige bueckers. (it was for sure because of paige, but that was neither here nor there.)

she could do this. she’d played this game before. she’d had sixteen first days of school and had too many new teams to count. 

a hand clutched her shoulder from behind. “we can do this.” 

it was kk arnold. she was a guard for UConn and famous for giving azzi a run for her fucking money. she would die a defensive legend, and azzi was glad their rivalry was finally over. she smiled at the shorter girl, thankful that she was willing to comfort azzi. 

she shrugged her shoulders and repeated kk’s words. “we can do this.”

and then they walked in the building like they both belonged there. 

the building was shiny with black and purple interior, and the AC was bumping. it was clean and it smelled like lemons and billionaires. the arena was was built for legend. it demanded success, not encouraged it. you didn’t train here so you could lose. 

when they got down the hallway, azzi froze and kk kept walking like she didn’t see the giant photos on the walls.

on the left wall of the hallway was the picture of steph celebrating with the team. they were cheering under falling confetti while he presented their trophy.  azzi knew the photo had been taken when GSV won their first championship because she’d been watching that game, wearing paige’s jersey for good luck.

on the right wall, was a picture of paige. she must have just done something big because she was mid-scream with her fist on her chest. you could see every muscle in her neck, every vein in her bicep. 

azzi shook her head because eye fucking a photo of her vet had to be against a moral rule. she wasn’t doing that anymore— she couldn’t do that anymore. 

she made her way into the locker room and walked in there like she was the calmest person ever. like she was Normal about this whole situation. 

she wasn’t. all she could think was don’t stare at her, don’t touch her, don’t say weird shit to her. 

someone had an oil diffuser. it smelled like cloves and something sweet and everyone was laughing and talking like this was a scene from Remember the Titans. when they registered that someone had entered, every single head turned. 

“well, if it isn’t ms. number one!” angel reese was the first person to speak. “hey, fudd.”

“h-hi.” azzi stuttered because angel reese knew her name. “hey!”

of course angel knew her fucking name. she wasn’t a nobody. she was azzi jazlyn fudd, and she deserved to have WNBA legends know her name. she would be a damn WNBA legend. 

rae burell stalked over to azzi and smiled like she wasn’t lording over her. “your locker’s next to kk’s.” 

no one else said anything. they all just watched azzi walk through the room like she was performing the walk of shame. she didn’t know why she was so fucking shy, but she was trying to hype herself out of it. 

aneesah morrow walked by her when she sat down and looked up from her phone. she grinned at azzi and said welcome to the league, like this wasn’t the scariest day of her fucking life. 

azzi smiled at her and turned to kk, who was tying her shoes like she’d already made the damn team. she scanned the room, looking for the root of all her nerves, but it wasn’t hard to tell that there was no paige bueckers in sight. 

“you okay?” kk asked, like she could see azzi felt mildly disappointed. “yeah i’m just,” azzi forced herself to stop searching. she looked at her knee’s instead. “i’m soaking it all in. i feel like i’m just processing that this is my life now.”

there wasn’t a big part of azzi that was truly stressing, but that seemed like a better answer than i’m looking for the woman that i once named as my celebrity crush during a slam interview, but i’m media trained now so she’s no longer my celebrity crush.

“yeah, me too. but,” kk shrugged. “we’re here for a reason. you worked for this shit. enjoy it. don’t ruin it for yourself.” 

azzi nodded and thanked kk and told herself to re-fucking-lax. she reminded herself that nothing was ever this serious and that paige would have to come eventually. she even started gaslighting herself into believing that she honestly was just excited to learn from the woman, and she wasn’t going to have to restrain from drooling all over her.  

she audibly spoke to herself out-loud while she changed into her training shorts. when it was time to change her shirt, her necklace got caught in the elastic of her tanktop, and she was stuck with her arms in the air. 

and then, because the universe fucking hated her, she heard kk go “oh shit.” and angel say “hey paigey.” and azzi suddenly knew what every character in every movie felt when they said “she’s right behind me, isn’t she?”

azzi tugged her elbows down and turned around to see paige. fucking. bueckers. dapping angel up. she wasn’t even looking in azzi’s direction, but still, azzi was frozen. shirt bunched up at her wrists,  hair probably disturbed from it’s bun, toes out in the wind. 

for most of azzi’s life, paige seemed… unattainable. like a comic book character— like superwoman. she’d been this big figure in her life. an idol, a crush, the figment of azzi’s dreams. and now, she was looking dead at her. 

paige madison bueckers, in the flesh. she had on black sweats and a white tee with her practice backpack on. she probably didn’t even know that azzi was literally about to die at the sight of her. how was paige supposed to know that this exact moment had played as a daydream in azzi’s head over and over since she was twelve?

paige dropped her bag at her locker and sat down to take off her shoes and when she bent to untie them, she looked right at azzi who was still tragically frozen and tracking her every movement. 

azzi stopped breathing when her eyes locked with paige’s. they were so blue and she was so pretty and much bigger than azzi thought. she was only an inch or two taller than azzi, but she was so broad. paige took up space. even hunched over at her locker. she looked at azzi like she was trying to telepathically say stop fucking staring at me, you half naked rookie creeper. 

or maybe azzi was looking too far into things. 

either way, she pulled her tank all the way off and unclasped her necklace before shoving her training shirt on and burying her face in her own duffel. the goal was to pretend that she wasn’t caught eye fucking someone she’d never even had a conversation with. she told herself it was okay. that it wasn’t that bad.

she grabbed her water bottle and then dropped it back in her bag and buried her face in her hands because it was that bad. 

you said you wouldn’t stare. you literally had one damn job, azzi. 

she couldn’t believe she’d failed so easily. but honestly, it wasn’t her fault. it’s just… it was paige bueckers.  azzi wasn’t a statue. she was just a girl. she wouldn’t give up on herself so easily. she told herself that she’d do better next time and that country girls made due. 

she grabbed her water bottle and zipped her duffel shut with much more force than necessary because if she couldn’t keep her corneas off of paige, she could at least get some shots up before anyone else got in the gym.

—

azzi missed thirteen shots before the rest of the team slugged into the gym, nothing but basketball walks in sight. kk came up to her immediately, and she didn’t say anything, but azzi knew she was still nervous by the way she was literally bouncing on the balls of her feet.

azzi wouldn’t speak on it, because she felt like she was going to throw up. she was bricking on her first day of training camp. she had two and a half weeks to prove that she belonged on this team— paige’s team— and she would never make the roster if she kept fucking up. 

she took a few steps, finding her calm in the sound of her sneakers squeaking against the floor. but then, just when her heart was beginning to slow down, she saw paige again. 

now clad in her practice uniform, she was shooting from the corner, and of course she was making every shot. azzi felt sick all over again because for one, she was watching paige bueckers warm up, and two, she couldn’t remove this training camp from the paige bueckers of it all. 

she had to stop thinking of this as paige’s team and imagining herself as paige’s rookie. no matter how much she wanted that, she was psyching herself out, and she was going to ruin any chance she had, number one pick or not. 

“you’re staring.” kk came up behind azzi, “what do you think she—” 

“don’t.” azzi shut her eyes, like maybe that would hide the fact that she was actively ogling a woman in public. “can we just like… not acknowledge it?” she turned to kk and smiled her most humiliated smile. “i gotta get through this without embarrassing myself.”

but there was no way that was going to happen. she was so in tune with everything paige was doing, even behind her back. she knew that paige still hadn’t missed from the sound of the net still swishing. she knew a practice player was feeding paige the ball faster because just before every swish, she heard a grunt. she was way too aware of a woman she still hadn’t had a vocal conversation with, and she hated it.

“let’s just stretch.” she said, grabbing kk and pulling her to the cart with the resistance bands. 

she repeated her mantra over and over as she settled into warm ups.

i can do this. 

i can do this. 

i can do this. 

i can do. this. 

she found a rhythm, eventually. she put her beats on and pressed play on an old kehlani album. her warm-up got better as she re-found her mojo and for a blissful moment in time, azzi was just hooping. playing the game she loved with no distractions. she was sinking everything she threw out, and nothing could break that relationship between her and the ball. 

and then out of nowhere, she heard, “FUDD!” 

she turned around, ripping her headphones off her ears like she’d just been caught watching porn on the library computer. it was rae, waving her over to the huddle. paige walked up to the group and azzi had to force her eyes to stay on the ground under her, rather than the sweaty woman directly across from her. paige wasn’t looking, but azzi really wished she was. she wanted to hit herself for the thought. 

coach natalie nakase— a legend in her own right— went off, listing off whatever she’d written on her clipboard and azzi took note of it all, because she was going to be a valkyrie and she was going to be rookie of the year and she was going to be a fucking legend her own damn self. 

when the huddle broke. azzi put her headphones back in her duffel and watched everyone get ready. everyone except paige, who was standing on the sidelines, arms big and crossed over her chest, biceps poking out of the sleeves of her GSV practice tee. azzi promised herself that she wouldn’t do this— stare and want and panic. but that’s all she’d been doing. 

regardless, she was determined and ready for whatever was about to be thrown at her. she was a basketball player. a great one. she had a fucking ESPY and held national records and now was the time to act like it. so when coach called on her, paige, and kk to run one of the three plays that she went over, azzi thought back to the huddle, and remembered what she had to do.

on the way to their position, kk elbowed her, a silent reminder to calm the hell down. azzi was anything but calm, but she’d fake it till she made it. she shook her head and smiled at kk, silently saying i’m fine. 

they got into position and paige called the play in her deep leader voice that azzi hadn’t taken into account until that very moment

stop. azzi said to herself. focus.

she closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose. she felt her shoulders fall with the exhale. 

i can do this. 

she opened her eyes, half expecting everyone to be staring at her in wait. obviously, no one cared that she was taking a breath. kk was on one knee tying her shoe and paige was still staring at the court like it held the answers to all life's questions. 

then coach blew the whistle and the ball was tossed to paige. kk was on her like a gnat at a barbecue. her defense was top tier, it’s what she was known for and why she was GSV’s second pick. paige played with her a little, grinning as she side stepped to escape kk, but eventually, like the play called for, she passed the ball to azzi. 

the concept of bueckers to fudd flashed through azzi’s head just as she took the shot. she knew the shot was off before it left her hands, and she mentally winced before it clanged off the rim. 

kk made a hissing sound and physically flinced. azzi stayed frozen in place. her body was suddenly too heavy to move after horrendously failing in front of her idol and all her peers. 

no one actually said anything about it. they all just kept playing and practicing and that was almost worse than chastising azzi. but she told herself she’d adjust and that it was only once. that everyone misses and it was only the first day. 

except she shot like that for the rest of practice. miss after miss, humiliation after humiliation. every shot she missed felt heavy. like no matter how much azzi tried, she was getting pulled further and further under.

after practice, she watched everyone file out of the gym, and tried to act like she didn’t care if they were staring or not. they weren’t, but she kind of wished they were because that would mean they were expecting something of her. they all just walked out, patting her on the back and talking about their lunch plans, like they knew she wasn’t worth her hype.  

 she stayed on the bench cursing herself out. she was so mad, and she couldn’t blame anyone but herself. because she’d done this before. shooting was her bread and butter, and she couldn’t get her fucking shot off. 

she stood at the free throw line, dribbling a ball and trying to remember that feeling from earlier. when she had her headphones on and couldn’t hear anything— wasn’t aware of anything. she loved basketball because it required a certain numbness that azzi didn’t feel for anything else. 

she felt everything, yes. the adrenaline and the competition and the speed of it all. but it was natural. she didn’t have to pretend for this. it didn’t come with any expectation besides get more points than the other team. and win or lose, azzi knew she was good at this. 

she threw a shot up, missed. she got her own rebound and tried again. over and over and over, she shot and missed but she was determined to leave this building having fixed whatever was going on. 

a voice behind her made azzi turn towards the doors. “this is the definition of insanity.”

she’d heard that voice on tv. she’d heard it on her phone, and her laptop. she’d even heard it on the radio. but she’d never heard it in real life. she’d never heard it directed at her. she’d never felt its attention. 

she looked at paige, who was making her way across the court. suddenly, azzi fudd- yapper extraordinaire had nothing to say.  “huh?”

“to do the same thing repeatedly while expecting a different result,” paige was closer now. not as close as azzi would always want her to be, but as close as she was going to get. a respectable distance between two co-workers.“is the definition of insanity.”

azzi didn’t have to catch the tone of paige’s voice to know that she wasn’t being condescending. she seriously thought azzi’s non-stop shooting was useless. azzi felt a pang in her chest that she had never felt before.

she looked down at the ball that she held in her hands. “i’m trying to fix it.”

she didn’t need paige to tell her that she was doing something wrong. she knew that— everyone in the gym today knew that. she just didn’t know what, and having this woman— this fantasy of azzi’s— pop her bubble wasn’t going to help her.

paige shook her head, like she found azzi ridiculous. “you can't fix it if you don’t know what’s broken about it.”

maybe paige did think azzi was ridiculous. maybe she found azzi unworthy or whatever. that would be warranted. she hadn’t proven her worth today. nothing she’d done was representative of the past eight years of her life.

the realization that paige bueckers thought she was a fraud made azzi’s chest burn. she felt— she didn’t know what she felt but she knew that it hurt. but she couldn’t be hurt in front of paige beuckers. that wasn’t respectable, it was weak. so she squared her shoulders and put as much conviction in her voice as possible.

“yeah, i know.” she blinked, as if to say duh. “i’m working on figuring that out.” 

paige looked at her and maybe azzi was hallucinating but she could have sworn paige’s eyes twitched. like she was royally pissed off— like azzi had royally pissed her off. 

“you’re favoring your left.” 

azzi shook her head off instinct. she was defensive without reason. “no, i—”

paige put a hand up, “i know you know everything and no one can tell you anything, but today you’re nervous.” 

she sounded so calm for someone who was invalidating someone else’s argument before they could even get it out. she didn’t look calm, though. her jaw was tight and her eyes were like hard, blue stones being thrown at azzi’s face.

she continued her explanation, shrugging her visibly stiff shoulders. “new team, new court. you got the jitters so just slow down a bit.” 

azzi stared. she didn’t realize it, but she was full-blown, flat-out staring at her veteran like she hung the moon and stars. 

it wasn’t lost on her that paige had to know how azzi usually shot to know that she was favoring her left. with that much bass in her voice, paige knew what she was talking about. that meant she’d watched azzi’s film. 

so maybe she didn’t think azzi was worthless, or undeserving. maybe she expected more because she knew what azzi could do. for a single second, azzi felt a sense of pride in the fact that she’d been significant enough for paige to watch her film, but then she began to internally deflate because she’d obviously disappointed her.

“i promise you that’s what it is.”paige took a step back with her hands in the air as if to say believe me or don’t, i really couldn’t give a fuck less. 

azzi snapped out of it, blinking back into the moment. she got into position the way she always had. shoulders square, elbows tucked, hips square, feet square. she let the ball fly, and it banged off the iron the same way it did all day.

paige put her hands on her hips, shaking her head as she got azzi’s ball. 

paige bueckers was rebounding for her.

“stop thinking about it.” she approached azzi, ball in hand. she stood directly in front of her with those same hard, blue eyes. she handed the ball to azzi, but never took her hands off it. it sat between the two, in four hands, pressing into azzi’s belly. “look at the hoop. feel the ball. position your body in the way you know is effective.”

the strictness in her voice and the hardess in her demeanor made azzi’s heart boom in her chest. do what she said streamlined in her head as she set herself up again, this time paying more attention to her body. she shot, she scored. 

she could have cried.

“there you go.” paige didn’t sound the least bit impressed. “you feel that?” 

azzi looked down at her feet, still planted in position. she looked back up at an expectant paige and nodded. paige got the ball again and passed it to her from under the net.

“now shoot.”

azzi shot again. she made it. paige passed her the ball.

“again.”

shoot. swish. ball..

“again.”

shoot. swish. ball.

“last time.”

shoot. swish. ball.

“good.” paige voice was the slightest bit higher, and azzi caught it. she held onto it and smiled. “that’s my number one pick.”

my number one pick…

azzi’s lungs may as well have dropped from her body because they were not working. they’d magically lost their function at the idea of azzi being paige’s anything. 

her voice got stuck in her throat as she squeaked out “thank you.” 

“you’re gonna be my rookie, fudd.” paige stated like it was gospel. “your misses are the teams misses— my misses.”

“right. yeah.” she agreed because what else could she do when her brain was actively malfunctioning? “well, still. thank you.”

paige cut her eyes and looked at azzi for a second longer than comfortable, and then turned to the door. she brought one finger in the air, twirling it. 

“wrap it up fudd.”

and azzi did end up leaving after that, but it took all of five minutes to process what just happened to her. she’d been planning to stay a while longer and shoot some more, but that didn’t matter anymore.

she was paige’s rookie. paige’s number one pick. 

paige had said that herself. and logically—realistically,  azzi knew that paige didn’t mean it in the way azzi was picturing. she knew paige would never mean it that way. that she couldn’t. 

but it was okay for azzi to imagine, right? to hope

⇆

training camp felt like it came faster than it usually did. it wasn’t like paige was waiting for it to come, it was quite the opposite. 

she was excited to meet her rookies, that much was true. she always looked forward to seeing them, basking in that youth. paige remembered that feeling. of vincibility. of not knowing if she belonged. 

she’d been the first player to ever be drafted to the valks, but of course, vets had been traded there. she had tiffany hayes to guide her through the trenches of her rookie year, and that was nice. but paige has always been a leader. she’d never been okay with being anything other than the big fish, so it didn’t take more than two seasons for her to start calling shots. 

so yes. she was looking forward to meeting the rookies. but also, there was a nervousness.

the night of the draft, she laid in bed with her covers up to her chin, googling azzi fudd. 

she’d seen the highlight reel, but paige wanted to see the bad. she wanted to see azzi’s misses and how she reacted to a loss. she needed proof that azzi was just like every other twenty-three year old. she needed to see her angry and reactive and irresponsible because then paige wouldn’t be so… interested. 

but she didn’t find what she was looking for. 

azzi almost never reacted when she missed a shot, and if she did, she did it with a bat of her lashes and a drop of her jaw. 

when she lost a game, she didn’t cry during the presser, she spewed out positive-hunky-dory bullshit about learning from the loss. 

even her taunting was neutral. in heated games, azzi would score big points and smile at her defender as if to say i’m prettier than you and better than you, so there’s no need to beat my chest because clearly you’re already a loser. 

azzi wasn’t angry, she wasn’t reactive. she was as pure of a player as it got. and paige didn’t know what to do with that, so she did nothing.

she didn’t answer any questions about azzi. she didn’t allow herself to google her anymore. she swiped when azzi came up on her social media. 

she told herself that it didn’t matter— that azzi didn’t matter. she was just another rookie. 

paige walked into the locker room and dapped up angel. she said hi to aneesah and rolled her eyes at rae. it was routine. it was usual.

she knew the rookies were in the building because she heard oh shit come from kk, who she’d met a few times when she attended uconn games. she was fast and she’d be good. paige was sure she’d be added to the roster. 

paige knew azzi would be an issue before she even got to the gym. so, like any responsible adult, she kept an eye on her.

 she watched azzi fight her way out of her shirt. watched her talk to herself. watched her walk out of the locker room like she didn’t look like she wanted to fall into the floor two minutes prior. 

she watched azzi’s shot bounce off the rim for the entirety of the practice, and she watched azzi not complain about it once. she watched azzi stay after practice. watched her try and fail to lock in. 

paige only stepped into the gym when the second hand embarrassment became too much. when she helped azzi with her shot, it was because she was her vet and azzi just kept doing the same thing over and over and it was ridiculous. 

it was her job and azzi’s shooting was pitiful. that was all.

so paige helped and she even rebounded for her. she felt an unnatural sense of pride when azzi’s shot went it. she felt an unnatural sense of accomplishment when the twenty-three year old’s smile grew with every shot she made. 

when azzi thanked her, paige noticed that twinkle in her eye had returned, and she decided it was in her best interest to leave the gym. 

she’d done her job. she’d fixed azzi’s shot. that was all.

─

paige didn’t know what happened after that first day, but she knew azzi seemed to have a battery in her back.

coach had put her all over the floor and she excelled. she passed every test, just like paige knew she would. for the rest of camp, azzi had proven why she was the number one pick. no one questioned it, even that day but paige still felt like azzi’s success over the camp was something to be noticed. 

she only ever noticed it in public though. she only ever allowed herself to think about azzi when it was appropriate— when it applied to basketball or to the team. sometimes she’d see azzi on her social media, and she’d scroll at the sight of those big brown eyes. she didn’t even let the videos play because for some reason, it felt wrong.

paige wasn’t shocked that azzi and kk were picked to be added to the roster. they’d practically forged themselves into valkyries by the time camp was over.

 paige had mild concern for the overall unseriousness of her team, but she wasn’t too worried. kk and angel were already calling themselves biggie and smalls, azzi and aneesah had shared hair and nail info, and the group chat had already been renamed “strong black women + paige” 

but that was all fine. that was chemistry. that was bonding, and paige was the biggest team bonding advocate that ever lived. which is why before every season, she took her team out and let them be in the wild for the last time for the foreseeable future. 

she remembered being a rookie on the newest team in the league and feeling so scared to breathe wrong in front of her elders. she didn’t want that. fear to ask questions opened the door for fuck ups that paige didn’t have time for. 

she got ready on the phone with angel. they’d been drafted the same year, but they weren’t on GSV together until three seasons later. she was the closest thing to a best friend that paige had besides drew. 

she had angel on speaker with her phone tucked into her sports bra, mic side up. they ran over the plan for the night as paige looked through her closet. 

she froze when angel asked, “you gonna stop being mean to fudd tonight?”

“what?” she responded, her voice too high to be convincing of the fact that she had no clue what angel was talking about. “i’m not mean to her.”

angel laughed, “you don’t talk to her.”

“i don’t talk to anyone.”

that was true. paige was a talkative person, but not to people who weren’t in her immediate circle. she’d learned the hard way that being on her team didn’t make someone a member of her circle. 

“yeah but you for sure don’t talk to her.” angel scoffed. “the girl adores you. she’s always looking for you when she does something good and you just don’t do shit.” there was silence because paige had no idea what to say to that. and of course, angel took the silence as a chance to add insult to injury. “you’re like a deadbeat daddy.”

“i’m not her fuckin parent.” paige spat out.

agitation was an easier route to take than admitting to herself that she purposely avoided azzi. anything was an easier route to take than trying to figure out why she purposely avoided azzi.

“she doesn’t look for me, and even if she did, she shouldn’t be looking to me for validation. she’s an adult. she should be confident in her abilities.”

she sounded like an asshole and she knew it. she’d never said that about any rookie ever, and she knew it was bullshit. she was more worried about the fact that her distaste for azzi was noticeable.

she could hear angel smacking her lips through the phone. “were you confident in your abilities your rookie year?”

angel knew the answer to that question, and paige knew the only reason she asked it was so that paige would have no leg to stand on. still, paige grumbled. “it’s not about me.”

“you can’t put expectations on her when you couldn’t even do it yourself.” angel argued, her baltimore accent wrapping around every vowel. “at the very least, she looks up to you, and you’re hurting her feelings.”

paige sighed, fed up with the argument that she was clearly going to lose. “bro—”

angel cut her off. “you are hurting. her. feelings.”

“okay.” paige put her hands up like angel could see her. “okay, i’ll talk to her.”

“thank you.” angel sounded much sweeter than she actually was. 

⇆

the bar (it was really a club and it was chosen by angel,  of course) was big and crowded and loud, and it was the perfect vibe for the night. there was enough people and noise for everyone to be more focused on not getting lost or roofied than the WNBA team hoarding in their section. 

the team had taken advantage of the fact that paige put her card down for the tab. there were three different bottles of tequila and four pitchers of some fruity, mixed drink being passed around and paige realized that she was entirely too old for this shit. 

she poured herself baby shots and swallowed them in sections instead of taking them to the head like rae and kennedy. she wasn’t drunk. she wasn’t even tipsy, but she had enough that she was warm all over and felt comfortable enough to order wings for the whole table.

outside of the club, azzi sat in the back of an uber elbow to elbow with kk, who was taking a million selfies of them. she smiled and posed for the camera like she hadn’t nearly given up on the whole night because she couldn’t pick an outfit. 

her indecisiveness would probably be the death of her, but she’d worry about that when she had to. 

when she facetimed jana to show the final fit, jana asked if she was going to something stupid. azzi promised she wouldn’t, though she knew jana didn’t believe her.

but azzi was serious. she promised herself that she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself— not anymore. she’d solidified her spot on the team and signed her contract. there could be no bad days.

when she got out of the uber, she hooked her arm with kk’s and showed her ID to the bouncer who was too busy looking at azzi to confirm whether she was old enough to enter the building. he let them in anyway, with a smirk in azzi’s direction and a scowl to kk who’d been mean mugging him the whole time. 

she felt the heat of the building the second she stepped into it. you could tell that everyone in the building was having a good time. the moisture in the air could only come from lack of personal space and shared body heat.

every step she took towards their section, azzi felt her doubt creep in.was her skirt too short? did her boots look dumb with the outfit? should she have just worn her hair down instead of up?

she shook her head and put her chin up because she should only care about how she looked to herself. she thought she looked hot when she left home, and silly things like anxiety weren’t gonna change that. not tonight. 

tonight, she’d have fun and not care about who was paying attention to her. (she only wanted the attention of one person, but again— she told herself she wasn’t doing that anymore.)

paige knew azzi had arrived before she even saw her. angel and aneesah let out a collective “dayum” with their heads whipped toward the stairway of their section. 

when she turned around to see what had drawn such a reaction, she nearly choked on the drink she’d been nursing. the reactions had been valid because azzi looked absolutely fucking— nice. 

paige thought azzi looked nice in her tight, cropped brown tee and denim mini skirt— so mini that with every step she took up the stairs, paige could see her soft pink panties. she had on black knee-high boots and a purse that matched her shoes. her curls were in a ponytail that looked like it was gonna fall loose with the slightest movement of her head. 

her eyes followed azzi from the entrance to the table where kk began preparing her and azzi’s welcome shots. she watched azzi take the shot and lick the salt from the back of her hand without making a face. she realized she’d been staring when rae got up and plopped between azzi and kk with the fakest smile paige had ever seen. 

“i love your boots!” rae gushed, drawing azzi’s attention so that her back was to paige. 

the night went on from there. azzi did a great job of not looking at paige. she learned it was easier when her back was turned because it was literally impossible to turn her neck one hundred and eighty degrees. 

eventually, she’d drank enough that she didn’t have to remind herself not to look. she’d been too caught up in everything else. 

like keeping an eye on kennedy and rae, who left their section to dance. they were pressed against two guys who were noticeably shorter than them. azzi watched them in amusement because they were drunk enough that they didn’t care.

kk elbowed her gently, “you want another drink, fudd?”

she looked at the table in front of her, littered with discarded earrings, cellphones, bottles and an empty basket of wings. 

she shrugged, deciding that she’d be fine. she didn’t drive and she knew her teammates wouldn’t let anything happen to her. “um… sure!”

kk picked up a glass. “shots?” 

azzi smiled, clapping to herself like she’d never drank in her entire life. “yes, please!” her tipsy-ness was making her giggly.

kk poured the shots and the two rookies cheers-ed for the fourth time that night. the alcohol burned it’s way down azzi’s throat and warmed her chest, but she didn’t need a chaser. she was a good drunk and she’d always done her business like a pro.

when kk was done grimacing and shaking her head, she looked towards the other couch where angel and aneesah were talking. “we’re fucked up in front of our elders.”

azzi turned to the pair. they were so… grown up. like they had not a care in the world because they knew they’d be okay regardless. azzi envied that. the security in it all. 

kk was nervous around them, and she was finally talking about it. and azzi didn’t have much to say to her because she was still nervous, too. especially when it came to paige, who azzi thought was staring at her when she arrived. or maybe that was wishful thinking. maybe she had imagined the heat of paige’s gaze and the sound of her throat clearing when azzi turned. 

she shook her head because kk was already feeling nervous and allowing herself to spiral wouldn’t help anything.

“they’re our co-workers.” she said.

kk shook her head, clenching her fists. “they still scare the shit out of me.”

they scared azzi too, but now wasn’t the time for that. now was the time to be a leader. an inebriated, tequila brained leader.

“they’re our teammates, kk.” she gestured towards the table. “they’re fucked up too.”

it was true. not everyone was capital-D-Drunk but no one was sober enough to drive home.

“PSKI WITH THE WIIIINGGSSSS!”

azzi and kk snapped their heads toward angel at the same time, and followed as she danced to paige who was approaching with two baskets of food. 

it was just wings and fries, but she could have been carrying baskets of slop and azzi would have still felt pinned to her seat. she was almost in pain from trying to keep it together, but paige was so beautiful that azzi convinced herself it wasn’t just a her thing.

 anyone would nearly salivate at the sight of a beautiful woman in baggy jeans and a tight black tee with her silver rope chain resting against her collarbones. anyone would look at the bun sitting snug at the back of her head and wonder what that hair would feel like between their fingers. and anyone would stop breathing in a drunken stupor if said beautiful woman smiled(?) at them in a rowdy club section.

paige looked like she was smiling. at azzi— or in azzi’s direction which technically counted as smiling at her.

paige watched azzi’s face fall to her lap the second their eyes locked. she hadn’t spoken to the rookie all night, and azzi hadn’t tried to speak to her. paige figured that angel had blown azzi’s admiration out of proportion. she seemed perfectly fine in her corner with kk. 

she hadn’t even noticed paige leaving the section, and she wouldn’t have noticed her return if angel hadn’t hollered like a maniac. but she had— azzi looked. and paige looked. and for just a second they were looking. 

she couldn’t help the smile that crept on her face at azzi’s slight panic. before she looked away, azzi looked like a spooked deer with her big eyes growing even wider. she’d drank enough to still have control of her face, but she still had that gloss in her eyes. the one that made the twinkle there brighter than anything in the room. 

paige was grateful to azzi for looking away because paige wasn’t confident in the fact that she would have. she didn’t offer azzi food— she didn’t offer anyone food because she didn’t want to have to ask azzi if she wanted some. 

she’d promised angel she’d talk to the girl, but she didn’t fucking want to. she was mildly pissed off by the noise of the building, by the heat, and for some odd reason; by the fact that azzi didn’t get any food. 

paige didn’t know why she suddenly gave a fuck about what the twenty-three year old girl from fucking indiana was or wasn’t doing, but something in her wanted to hand azzi a flat and say eat it. 

she couldn’t do that, though. that was weirdo shit, especially because paige hadn’t said so much as ten words to azzi since her first day. 

so she sat in her seat and watched everyone have the time of their lives. 

ken, rae and the rest of the younger women were all dancing either on the couch or on the floor with the rest of club. angel was lip syncing to neesah, who was recording. kk had brought a digital camera and was snapping pictures of everything and everyone.

when she got to azzi, she spent more time on her than anyone else. azzi hadn’t hardly moved the whole night, but paige wouldn’t apply that logic because that would mean she had to look away.

azzi wasn’t turned away, but she wasn’t facing paige either. her attention was being held by kk, who was snapping pictures of her and telling her how to pose. she was looking at kk like she was a real photographer. following her every instruction like she had put all her trust in this creative genius. 

over the weeks of camp, paige learned that azzi was good at that— making anyone speaking to her feel like the most important person in the world. whether it was press, coaches, teammates, media team. azzi gave them everything she had. 

paige hated that she had caught on to that. she wasn’t supposed to notice small things about her rookie. but she had. she had the slight feeling that azzi wasn’t giving her much of a choice in the matter, but still. paige was supposed to have discipline. 

she’d stared at azzi fudd long enough to hate herself. eventually, she told herself she was done for the night. no more drinking because apparently clear liquor made her want to do stupid shit like walk up to azzi and talk to her. made her want all of that attention for herself. made her want to feel like the most important person in the world.

as the night went on and paige declined more shots, she began to sober up. you’d have thought the alcohol leaving her system would have made her more upset because who enjoyed being sober around a bunch of drunk women?

paige. paige enjoyed it. 

everyone was happy and getting along and the stress of the pre-season schedule wasn’t forcing everyone to be boring. she would do this every week if she could. she didn’t mind being the mother hen of the group if it meant the group had a good time. 

she checked all of them off her list, making sure she remembered who was where and what they were doing. and when she’d mustered enough willpower to look at azzi again, she learned azzi had finally left her seat. the problem was, kk, who had remained glued to azzi all night, hadn’t.

paige looked over the entire section, trying to make sure she wasn’t tripping but no. azzi was no longer among the group. she’d wandered and she’d wandered alone. 

paige’s heartbeat began to thrum in her ears as she tried to remain subtle. she turned her neck to face the club. azzi wasn’t in the line for the bathroom and as far as paige could see, she wasn’t dancing with the other girls. 

but then she found her. at the bar, with all of that valuable attention being given to a man. if he was taller than azzi, it wasn’t by much and paige had dubbed him an asshole based on the fact that he had on a wife-beater and jeans in a bay area club.

she looked away because it wasn’t her damn business. her jaw was suddenly tight and her blood was pumping even harder, but it was not her business. paige felt something. something she refused to acknowledge but it kept dragging her gaze back to the bar. 

every time she looked toward them (unwillingly), the man had gotten closer. at some point, a drink appeared in azzi’s hand and the man was basically staring down at her like she couldn’t bench press him if she wanted to. 

“oh shit.” angel spoke, but paige never moved her eyes. “fudd’s stuck.”

azzi laughed at whatever the man said, but it wasn’t her real laugh. paige could tell because her shoulders didn’t shake. 

“what?” she asked, because she wasn’t sure if angel had caught the same thing. 

“she’s at the bar and that man—” angel stopped mid-sentence and began smacking paige on the shoulder. she pointed, “you never talk to her!”

paige wanted to take herself out back and end her misery. the man reached a hand out towards azzi.

she shook her head and muttered, “we’re in a club, angel.”

whatever was said after that, was lost on paige.

azzi didn’t take the man’s hand. instead, she said what looked like “no, thank you” and pointed to the section. the man looked up towards the team, and then looked back down at azzi with a smirk. he began speaking again and paige wished like hell that she could read lips.

she wanted to know exactly what was being said because she just needed reason. justification for getting up and doing something stupid. 

if the man was doing what paige thought he was doing, then paige’s actions wouldn't be stupid. they could be buried under the guise of protecting her team— protecting women in general. she’d never have to explain that she wanted to get up long before azzi began to look uncomfortable.

but azzi did begin to look uncomfortable. paige was trying to let her handle it— she was minding her business. but then azzi stood up and the man didn’t step back. he stayed in her space, crowding her to the point where she lost her balance and plopped back onto the bar stool.

paige rose from her seat then, not looking at angel when she said “i’ll be right back.”

she looked away because it wasn’t her damn business. her jaw was suddenly tight and her blood was pumping even harder, but it was not her business. paige felt something. something she refused to acknowledge but it kept dragging her gaze back to the bar. 

every time she looked toward them (unwillingly), the man had gotten closer. at some point, a drink appeared in azzi’s hand and the man was basically staring down at her like she couldn’t bench press him if she wanted to. 

“oh shit.” angel spoke, but paige never moved her eyes. “fudd’s stuck.”

azzi laughed at whatever the man said, but it wasn’t her real laugh. paige could tell because her shoulders didn’t shake. 

“what?” she asked, because she wasn’t sure if angel had caught the same thing. 

“she’s at the bar and that man—” angel stopped mid-sentence and began smacking paige on the shoulder. she pointed, “you never talk to her!”

paige wanted to take herself out back and end her misery. the man reached a hand out towards azzi.

she shook her head and muttered, “we’re in a club, angel.”

whatever was said after that, was lost on paige.

azzi didn’t take the man’s hand. instead, she said what looked like “no, thank you” and pointed to the section. the man looked up towards the team, and then looked back down at azzi with a smirk. he began speaking again and paige wished like hell that she could read lips.

she wanted to know exactly what was being said because she just needed reason. justification for getting up and doing something stupid. 

if the man was doing what paige thought he was doing, then paige’s actions wouldn't be stupid. they could be buried under the guise of protecting her team— protecting women in general. she’d never have to explain that she wanted to get up long before azzi began to look uncomfortable.

but azzi did begin to look uncomfortable. paige was trying to let her handle it— she was minding her business. but then azzi stood up and the man didn’t step back. he stayed in her space, crowding her to the point where she lost her balance and plopped back onto the bar stool.

paige rose from her seat then, not looking at angel when she said “i’ll be right back.”

she was basically on autopilot as she made her way to the bar. embodying the term walking walking with a purpose, every stride was long, and she felt the muscles in her calves flex with every step. 

she tried to remind herself that this was to protect azzi. that she was doing this because azzi was uncomfortable and as her vet— as a woman— she was responsible for getting azzi out of her situation. 

“hey.” she said, chest to shoulder with azzi. she was looking down at her side profile, and when azzi looked up at her, paige almost forgot what she’d come over for.

azzi let out a sigh at the sight of paige. whether it was a  sigh of relief or a sigh of humiliation would remain unknown, but something in her lightened at the sight of that chain sparkling in the darkness. 

“hi?” she squeaked out, still staring up at the older woman. 

but paige wasn’t look at azzi— at least no anymore. she’d turned her head and was now staring at the man that had been talking to azzi. his name was eric or maybe derrick. azzi couldn’t really hear but she’d been smiling and nodding her way through the entire interaction. 

eric/derrick had finally stopped talking, which azzi was thankful for. but he looked hurt— offended almost. maybe he was pissed about being interrupted or maybe he was pissed because paige was staring at him like he was her villain origin story. 

she blinked at the man who, once again, hadn’t taken the hit. “do you mind?”

eric/derrick wagged a finger between him and azzi. “we were—”

“didn’t ask.” paige shook her head. 

he pointed to azzi, who had been trying to figure out how she got here. “she didn’t ask me to go.”

i literally told i had to get back to my friends and you wouldn’t let me go.

azzi didn’t think saying that would go well for eric/derrick but she thought it. she didn’t know what to say— if she could say anything at all. paige looked mad. like she was two seconds of losing all that nonchalance and grace she was known for. 

“she didn’t have to ask.” paige stepped n front of azzi now so that there was a modicum of space between her and eric/derrick. “i’m telling you.”

eric/derrick stood there, looking up at paige. the whole thing felt a bit like a pissing contest, and unsurprisingly, paige won. he left, and paige stayed in place, waiting for him to disappear in the crowd.

only when he was out of sight did she turn around.

azzi, still confused, went to speak. “you—”

paige cut her off, nodding towards their section. “i saw you try to walk away.” she shrugged like she hadn’t probably saved azzi. “gave you an out.”

“yeah.” azzi was amazed. “thanks— thank you. paige.”

paige nodded like it was truly no big deal. she was still standing over azzi, but she didn’t make azzi feel like eric/derrick did. she felt crowded, but she wasn’t complaining. this was as close as they’d been in weeks, and azzi would stay on that stool forever if it meant she could smell paige’s cologne. 

“you don’t have to talk to him just ‘cause he bought you a drink.” paige cut her eyes at the cup azzi was still holding. “that doesn’t mean he deserves to be entertained by you.”

“i wasn’t— that wasn’t— ” she dropped the glass on the bar like it was on fire. the vodka cran sloshed over the edges, puddling around the bottom. “i wasn’t entertaining him.”

paige raised her brows and put her mouth in a condescending pout that azzi enjoyed more than she should have. “oh for real?”

“for real.” azzi deadpanned. she leaned forward and told herself it was so paige could hear her, and not because she wanted to smell her more. “and even if i was, how would you know?”

 the club was loud and packed and the only way paige would have noticed azzi from the section was if she was lookingfor her. internally, azzi beamed at the thought of paige noticing her all the way across the building. 

paige stepped back— away, really— and sat on the stool closest to her. she grabbed the vodka cran that azzi had discarded and took a sip, wincing at the taste. azzi grinned as she turned to the bar and folded her arms over it. 

“i was heading over.” paige raised the glass. “needed a chaser.”

azzi was way too invested in this conversation for someone who’d been telling herself she didn’t care about who was paying attention to her. but paige was lying and it was low hanging fruit, but azzi was gonna grab it anyway. 

“you haven’t used a chaser all night.” 

had exposed the fact that she was paying that much attention to her, she didn’t show it.

“neither have you.” she took another sip, not making a face this time. “you drink don like it’s water.”

if azzi were of sound mind and body, she might have felt embarrassed. she’d have thought that alcoholism of any kind is nothing to be proud of and it was shameful that’d drank so much that her vet noticed. 

but azzi wasn’t of sound mind nor body, and the only think she felt was pride. she rested her head on her palm, putting the weight of her upper body onto the bar.

“i wanted to seem cool in front of my vets.” she grinned. “didn’t wanna seem soft.”

“you are soft.” paige responded quickly, like it was waiting in the back of her throat.

“i’m really not.”

“you are,” she took a big drink this time. “and you not knowing that is precisely your problem.”

“well then,” azzi blinked at the harshness in paige’s tone. she wouldn’t be deterred though. “i guess i need someone to toughen me up then, huh?”

she didn’t know where she’d crossed the line from slightly drunk to motor mouth drunk, but azzi couldn’t find an ounce of regret. she actually was proud of herself for standing her ground against paige who was looking at her like she knew a secret azzi wasn’t yet aware of.

she didn’t know if this was flirting— it probably wasn’t and she’d probably be paying for this conversation for the rest of her career— but it felt like a power play. like game and azzi didn’t know the rules, but she figured she’d fucked up when paige tucked her lips into her mouth and looked at azzi like she was trying to restrain herself from an act of violence.

she snorted, shaking her head before taking another sip of azzi’s drink and facing forward. “go back to the section.”

azzi squinted and turned her whole body so that it was facing paige. she was trying not to be soft. she was trying to win without the secret and the “make me” left her mouth before she had time to fully strategize. 

her eyes widened at herself, and paige’s did too. but paige didn’t seem as panicked by azzi’s words. no, she seemed… bored? paige seemed bored and that made azzi want to spontaneously combust. 

she turned her head towards azzi, looking buzzed and lazy with her low eyes and pink cheeks. azzi could have stared at paige forever. she’d been in the same room with paige for weeks but tonight was different. maybe it was the alcohol, but azzi was concerningly aware of the fullness in paige’s bottom lip and the slant of her nose and the crinkles in the corners of her eyes.

paige stood up and stepped back into azzi’s space, cup still in hand. azzi tilted her head up so that she could make eye contact and Establish Her Dominance. but paige had something in her eyes that made azzi wanna jump back.

she looked azzi for several long, breathless seconds before she ran her tongue along her front teeth as she peered down at azzi. “i’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

azzi opened her mouth to say something to keep up the banter. except this didn’t feel like banter anymore. it felt like she’d lost the power play. she wasn’t even sure that this was actually happening, because the way paige was looking at her couldn’t be real. 

“w-what?” she stammered, suddenly feeling like her tongue was too big for her mouth. 

paige smirked at azzi’s discombobulation and took the last sip of the vodka cran and paige watched her tongue dart out to lick the rest off her lips. she felt dizzy like she was one of those people being entranced. 

like with those snakes in the baskets, she thought.

paige stepped back, and azzi felt like she could breathe again. “think you’ve had enough, hm?”

azzi opened her mouth to argue, but she couldn’t because maybe paige was right. maybe she had had enough. she snapped her mouth shut and watched paige walk away like none of that happened. 

azzi wanted to scream at the clusterfuck of emotion swirling within her. but she couldn’t do that. she wasn’t supposed to fucking care. 

she laughed to herself because she couldn’t even believe her own lies. 

of course you fucking care, you drunken idiot. how could you not?

—

paige hadn’t given azzi an instruction, but azzi listened regardless. she didn’t drink for the rest of the night and by the time the team was ready to go, the lights were no longer blurry. she was still drunk but not tell-a-hot-woman-ten years-older-than-her-to-make-her-do something drunk.

she tried not to replay their conversation. tried not to think about what it meant. tried not to obsess over that fact that that was only their second conversation. 

she’d done good for the most part. paige hadn’t caught her the few times she let herself look and no one noticed her vibe switch. 

outside of the club, azzi stood looking at her dead phone, waiting for kk to exit the building so she could order their uber. she pretended to be doing something, silently praying that everyone would respect the face buried in phone = don’t want to be bothered rule.

she felt someone behind her, and she knew it wasn’t kk. she was too drunk to be stealthy. azzi shut her eyes and inhaled in preparation for whatever was coming, but when she did, she smelled that smell. that cologne from earlier. or maybe it wa perfume. it was floral but it still felt strong and masculine and azzi knew exactly who it was. 

“you alright?” paige asked, side stepping so that they were nearly shoulder to shoulder. 

azzi let out an “mhm.” and wished that a vortex would open beneath her.

“you need a ride?”

azzi bit her tongue so hard she was scared it was going to slice in half. 

this. fucking. woman.

why couldn’t she just let azzi be done for the night? why couldn’t she just take her fucking win and leave it at that?

azzi knew paige was probably just being a responsible team leader, but she was losing her drunk and she was getting a headache and she was so. damn. embarrassed. and paige was looking at her like a damsel in distress— like she was soft.

 “no.” she grit out, trying and failing to sound sweet.

“but—”

“i said no.” azzi almost stomped like a fucking toddler. “why would i get in a car with you? we’ve talked like— twice.”

paige furrowed her brows like her feelings were the ones hurt. like she’d taken a hit to her ego tonight. but before she could respond, kk slung her arm around azzi’s shoulder for behind.

“you ready to go?” she was smiling and her breath smelled like tequila, but she guided azzi down the sidewalk anyway. “the uber’s gonna pull up to the baskin robins down the street so it’s not so packed.”

paige watched the rookies walk away, still speechless from azzi’s outburst. it wasn’t unjust, and paige knew that but it was still unexpected.

she knew she’d been an ass. but azzi caught her off guard and she had to retaliate. she couldn’t lose to a fucking twenty-three year old. 

she hadn’t meant to make her mad, though.  

azzi repeated the word no like it was the only thing she’d been born to say. with sterness and no room for argument. paige had no right to be offended, mostly because azzi was completely right. objectively speaking, azzi had no reason to want to get into a car with paige

.and she didn’t even want to give azzi a ride. it was just the nice thing to do. 

but azzi told her no.

“you talked to the rook?” angel leaned into her side. 

paige could have fallen to floor laughing at the question. she didn’t know what she’d call what she’d done to azzi that night, but she knew it didn’t count as talking. 

“yeah.” she sighed, adjusting her chain. “i talked to the fucking rook.”