summary: after truth or dare, pretending nothing changed becomes a lot harder. the team notices paige and y/n texting more, paige gets painfully soft without realizing it, and everyone starts scheming in their own way. during another media shoot, tyler shows up again, but this time y/n is not awkward about paige’s jealousy. if anything, she starts to like it.
warnings/content: fluff theres so much flufffff, mutual pining, team scheming, flirty banter, lowkey jealousy, protective paige, tyler being too close, no confession yet lol almost tho
a/n: took me a long ass time to get this done, sorrry for the long wait, the chapter was supposed to be longer, like 20k words done and in my drafts, but stupid tumblr has a word block limit or sumn so i have to split it up into two. the part 3 will be the last part, stay tuned~ loveyall
word count: i lost count fr
The thing about opening a door was that afterward, you had to live with the fact that there was air coming through it.
You learned that the morning after truth or dare, when you woke up to your phone still tucked beside your pillow and Paige’s last text sitting in your messages like it had been waiting for you to look at it again. Good to know. Two words. Technically harmless. Technically vague. Technically nothing you could take to court, or to KK, or even to yourself without sounding like you had lost your mind over basic punctuation. But you had sent she, and Paige had not laughed. Paige had not dodged it with some dramatic joke about your grammar. Paige had not asked if you meant someone from class, or someone from work, or someone hypothetical enough to be safe. She had simply noticed it, asked about it, accepted it, and then told you it was good to know like she was placing the information somewhere she planned to keep.
That should not have changed your entire morning.
It did anyway.
You brushed your teeth thinking about it. You got dressed thinking about it. You made coffee in your room and almost forgot to put the mug under the machine because your brain had decided the phrase good to know needed to be replayed from six different emotional angles before breakfast. By the time you got to your first class, you had convinced yourself again that you were being dramatic, only for Paige to text you halfway through the lecture and ruin all of your progress.
paige: u alive?
y/n: unfortunately yes
paige: class that bad?
y/n: worse
paige: damn
paige: want me to come fight the professor?
y/n: you’d lose
paige: crazy thing to say to me
y/n: i’ve seen your essays
paige: now u just lying for attention
You smiled down at your phone like an idiot, then immediately turned it face down on your desk because the girl beside you had glanced over with the kind of knowing look strangers should not be allowed to have. The problem was not even the texting itself. You and Paige had texted before. Often, actually, if you were being honest in a way you preferred not to be. The problem was the feeling under it now, the soft awareness left over from last night, the sense that every message had a second message folded underneath. She was still teasing you, still annoying, still Paige, but now when she asked if you were alive, you wondered if she meant I was thinking about you. When she offered to fight your professor, you wondered if she meant I want a reason to show up. When she called you dramatic or boring or mean, you wondered if she was smiling the same way you were.
By lunch, KK had made it worse.
She found you in the dining hall before you even sat down, appearing at your side with the stealth of someone who had clearly been tracking you from across the room. Ice was with her, carrying a tray and wearing an expression that said she was supportive but not fully responsible for KK’s behavior.
“Good morning,” KK said, though it was very much afternoon.
You eyed her. “No.”
“I didn’t even say anything.”
“You said good morning like you had evidence.”
“I do have evidence.”
Ice sighed softly. “KK.”
“What? I’m being normal.”
“You have never been normal,” you said.
KK smiled, delighted rather than offended. “That’s why y’all need me.”
You turned toward Ice. “Can you control her?”
Ice’s face softened with sympathy. “I tried.”
“Not hard enough.”
“She’s stronger than she looks,” Ice said solemnly.
KK ignored both of you and leaned closer, lowering her voice even though her whisper was still entirely too loud. “So. Did she text you?”
You looked down at your tray. “Who?”
KK stared at you.
Ice stared at you too, but hers was gentler. More amused than aggressive.
You lasted three seconds before giving in. “Yes.”
KK slapped Ice’s arm repeatedly without looking away from you. “I knew it.”
“Ow,” Ice said, but she was smiling.
“It was normal,” you added quickly.
“Was it?”
“Yes.”
“What she say?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“You don’t have to. Your face already did.”
“My face did nothing.”
“Your face is doing a whole press conference.”
You sat down at a nearby table, mostly because you needed to put your tray somewhere before you started laughing and dropped it. KK slid into the seat across from you. Ice sat beside her, calmer but clearly interested. For a second, you thought maybe this would be manageable if it stayed between them, but then Azzi joined the table with a drink in her hand and a quiet “What are we talking about?” that made KK look like Christmas had arrived early.
“Paige texted Y/N after truth or dare,” KK announced.
You groaned. “Why are you like this?”
Azzi’s eyes moved to you with terrifying calm. “Did she?”
“It was normal,” you repeated, though the word was starting to sound less convincing every time you used it.
Azzi sat down. “Normal for Paige or normal for normal people?”
Ice covered her mouth.
KK pointed across the table. “See? This is why Azzi needs to be involved more. She be saying things softly but they hit.”
You looked at Azzi in betrayal. “I thought you were supposed to be the nice one.”
“I am being nice,” Azzi said, taking a sip of her drink. “I did not ask what she said.”
“That is true,” Ice offered.
KK leaned forward. “I will ask, though.”
“You will not.”
“I might.”
“KK.”
“What? I’m invested.”
“You are invasive.”
“I contain multitudes.”
Azzi’s smile appeared around the edge of her straw. “She texted Paige too.”
You turned to her too quickly. “What?”
KK made a sound so sharp it was barely human. “Azzi.”
Azzi shrugged, but there was mischief in her eyes now, subtle and devastating. “Paige was smiling at her phone this morning.”
Your stomach dipped hard enough that you had to look away. “That could’ve been anyone.”
“It could have been,” Azzi agreed.
You looked back at her, suspicious. “But?”
“But KK asked who she was texting, and Paige said, ‘Nobody.’”
KK gasped dramatically. “Nobody is always somebody.”
Ice nodded like this was scientific fact. “Especially when Paige says it.”
You tried to fight the smile rising to your face and lost. The whole table saw it. Of course they did. KK put both hands flat on the table and stared at you like she had just witnessed a miracle.
“Oh my god,” she said. “You like her.”
Your heart stopped. “I do not.”
Azzi blinked slowly.
Ice looked at you with the gentlest pity you had ever seen.
KK leaned back in her chair, victorious. “That was the worst lie I’ve ever heard.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“Y/N.”
“I—” You stopped, because anything you said after that was going to make it worse. You looked down at your food instead, pushing something around with your fork while your face burned. “It’s complicated.”
That shut KK up for exactly one second.
Then her expression softened.
Not completely, because she was still KK and softness on her came wrapped in chaos, but enough that you felt the difference. She lowered her voice, and this time it actually sounded like she was talking to you instead of performing for the whole dining hall. “It doesn’t have to be scary, you know.”
You did not answer right away. Across from you, Azzi was quiet too. Ice’s expression stayed gentle, encouraging without pushing. It was the first time all morning you felt like the scheming had been set aside for something warmer, something that made your chest ache in a different way. Because it was scary. That was the part you could not always explain. Paige was fun to like in theory, easy to joke about when it was just KK sending exaggerated texts and the team making faces across the room. But Paige was also real. Paige was your friend, or almost your friend, or something that had been pretending to be friendship because neither of you were brave enough to call it anything else. Paige was careful with your camera equipment and careless with your breathing. Paige could make you feel chosen just by walking the wrong direction beside you. The thought of ruining that made your stomach twist.
“I don’t even know if she…” You trailed off, embarrassed by the vulnerability of it.
KK’s face shifted into disbelief so immediate it was almost comforting. “Girl.”
Azzi laughed quietly.
Ice reached across the table and patted your hand. “She does.”
“You don’t know that.”
“We know Paige,” Azzi said.
“And she does not act like that with everybody,” Ice added, repeating the same sentence like it had become team scripture.
KK pointed at Ice. “Exactly. She does not. She acts cool with everybody else, but with you? She gets all—” KK paused, searching for the word, then waved both hands vaguely. “Weird.”
You laughed despite yourself. “Weird?”
“Soft weird.”
“That is not a real description.”
“It is when it is Paige.”
Azzi nodded, as if confirming a scouting report. “She gets careful.”
That word landed differently.
Careful.
You thought of Paige placing your laptop on the side table instead of the floor. Paige fixing your camera strap. Paige asking if KK was bothering you. Paige handing your tote back at your building with her fingers brushing yours like she knew one wrong move could give everything away. Soft was easy to joke about. Weird was easy to deny. Careful was harder.
“She does,” Ice said, quieter. “She watches out for you.”
You looked down again, your throat suddenly tight. “She’s just nice.”
KK groaned. “Okay, now you’re pissing me off.”
Azzi smiled. “And there she is.”
“I’m sorry,” KK said, putting a hand to her chest, “but there is nice, and then there is whatever Paige got going on. Paige would help anybody, yeah. But Paige does not memorize everybody’s coffee order. Paige does not inspect batteries like a security guard because some random intern says your photos are good. Paige does not walk in the opposite direction every night just to make sure somebody gets inside, unless she—”
Azzi kicked her under the table.
KK flinched. “Ow.”
“Let her breathe,” Azzi said softly.
You exhaled, half laugh, half relief. “Thank you.”
“I was building a case,” KK muttered.
“You’re always building a case.”
“And I’m always right.”
By the time lunch ended, you felt both calmer and worse. Calmer because it was nice, in a ridiculous way, to know you were not inventing every look and every moment. Worse because if you were not inventing it, then you had to do something with it eventually. Not today. Not yet. But eventually.
Paige texted you again before practice.
paige: u at shoot later?
y/n: yeah
paige: cool
paige: don’t let battery man touch ur camera
You sat in the hallway outside your next class and laughed so suddenly that a passing student looked over at you.
y/n: you are never letting that go
paige: don’t know what ur talking about
y/n: you brought him up first
paige: who?
y/n: paige
paige: yeah?
y/n: annoying
paige: u like it
You stared at the message, feeling heat rise in your face. Before last night, you would have tossed back something easy. Maybe unfortunately. Maybe barely. Maybe don’t flatter yourself. But last night had changed the rhythm between you, and the words she sent now felt like a dare she did not know she was making.
So you answered honestly enough to be dangerous.
y/n: maybe
Paige did not answer for five minutes.
You knew because you watched the screen like a loser.
When she finally did, it was just:
paige: crazy
Then, a second later:
paige: see u later media girl
You had to put your phone away after that.
The shoot later that afternoon was supposed to be simple. Game-day content, quick clips, a few tunnel shots, some posed photos, some casual behind-the-scenes footage of the team getting ready for practice. It was not a full media day, which meant the room felt looser, more scattered. Players drifted in and out, some already dressed, some still tying shoes, some eating snacks they were definitely not supposed to be eating that close to practice. You loved shooting days like this because they gave you the moments fans never saw otherwise: Ashlynn laughing with her head tipped back, Qadence dancing badly on purpose, Nika pretending to hate being filmed while adjusting her hair anyway, Ice throwing a peace sign every time she passed your lens, Azzi smiling softly from the side like she saw everything and chose kindness most of the time.
And Paige.
Always Paige.
She came in late enough that everyone noticed but early enough that she could still claim she was not late. Her hoodie was half-zipped, hair pulled back, practice shoes in one hand, phone in the other. She was talking to Aubrey when she walked in, but her eyes found you almost immediately, like they had learned the route without asking. You were crouched near one of the equipment cases, trying to open a stubborn clamp on your monopod, and the second Paige saw you struggling, her steps angled toward you.
She did not even say hello first.
“Need help?” she asked.
You looked up at her, amused. “Hi to you too.”
Paige blinked, then smiled like she had been caught. “Hi.”
“Very convincing.”
“You need help or not?”
You almost said no out of habit. You almost twisted the clamp harder and bruised your palm just to prove you could do it yourself. But then you heard KK somewhere behind you whisper, “Ask her,” not softly enough, followed by Ice shushing her and Azzi saying, “Let it happen naturally,” in a tone that suggested they were absolutely all watching.
You looked back at Paige.
Paige was looking at you like she knew exactly what you were thinking and was waiting to see if you would do it anyway.
So you held out the monopod.
“Can you open this for me?”
Something flickered across her face so fast you might have missed it if you had not been studying her lately. Surprise first. Then pleasure. Then that familiar cocky little tilt of her mouth, the one she used when she was trying to act like she had not just been handed something she wanted.
“Yeah,” she said, taking it from you. “I got you.”
It was a clamp. A stupid clamp. Metal and plastic and nothing romantic about it. But Paige took it like it mattered, her fingers brushing yours around the handle, her shoulder dipping slightly as she twisted the stuck piece loose with embarrassingly little effort. You watched her hands before you could stop yourself, then looked up and found her already watching you watch.
The corner of her mouth lifted.
You rolled your eyes to cover whatever your face had done. “Don’t look so proud.”
“I opened it.”
“It was not a heroic act.”
“You asked me, though.”
That should not have made you blush. It did.
You held out your hand for the monopod. “Give it back.”
Paige did, but not before leaning just a little closer, voice dropping low enough that only you could hear. “Anytime, ma.”
Across the room, KK made a noise like she had been wounded.
Paige closed her eyes briefly. “I heard that.”
“I didn’t say anything,” KK called.
“You don’t gotta.”
You ducked your head, laughing as you adjusted the monopod. The warmth in your chest felt different today. Not as panicked. Still nervous, yes, still dizzying in the way Paige always seemed to make you, but there was something fun under it now. Something playful and bright. Last night had not given you certainty, but it had given you permission to stop pretending you hated the attention. You liked asking Paige for help. You liked the way she showed up before the question was fully out of your mouth. You liked the smug softness that settled over her when you let her be useful. You liked that the team noticed, and for once, that did not make you want to disappear entirely.
It made you want to push a little.
So when Tyler showed up ten minutes later carrying extra SD cards and a clipboard, you noticed Paige notice him, and instead of freezing the way you had the first time, you bit back a smile.
Tyler was not doing anything wrong at first. He greeted the room, handed a pack of cards to the main media assistant, then walked over to your setup with the easy confidence of someone who had decided he knew you well enough to be casual. “Hey,” he said, smiling. “You need any extras today?”
You adjusted the camera strap over your shoulder. “I think I’m good for now, thanks.”
“You sure? I brought the faster cards this time.”
“That actually helps,” you said, taking one when he offered it. “Thank you.”
From your left, where Paige had been pretending to tie her shoes for a suspiciously long amount of time, came silence so loud it was almost funny.
You glanced over.
Paige was sitting on the bench with one shoe already tied, the other lace loose in her hands. Her head was slightly lowered, but her eyes were up. Not glaring. Not obvious. Just watching. Her mouth was relaxed, but her jaw was not. The look was controlled, casual enough for deniability, sharp enough that if Tyler had been paying attention to anything other than himself, he might have felt the warning in it.
Your stomach fluttered.
It should not have been cute. Jealousy was messy in real life, and you knew that. But Paige’s version, at least right now, was less about ownership and more about failing miserably to hide that she wanted to be the person standing closest. She was not interrupting. She was not embarrassing you. She was just sitting there, pretending to lace a shoe she had forgotten how to tie because Tyler was talking to you.
It was annoyingly adorable.
Tyler leaned slightly closer to look at your camera screen. “You shooting video too?”
“Some clips, yeah.”
“You want me to help with the tripod?”
Paige’s fingers stopped moving around her lace.
You saw it.
This time, you knew what to do with it.
You smiled at Tyler politely. “I’m okay, but thanks.” Then, turning your head just enough, you called, “Paige?”
Paige looked up instantly. Too instantly.
The room did not stop, but several people inside it absolutely stopped paying attention to anything else. KK turned around so fast her braid nearly hit Ice. Azzi, standing near the water cooler, lowered her bottle with a tiny smile. Nika paused mid-conversation with Aubrey, eyes narrowing in interest. Ashlynn and Qadence exchanged a look like the next episode of their favorite show had just started.
Paige stood. “Yeah?”
You lifted the tripod bag with both hands, making a show of examining one of the stuck buckles. “Can you help me with this? It keeps catching.”
Tyler was standing right there.
That was the point.
Paige’s expression shifted. The slight irritation at Tyler did not vanish exactly, but it melted into something warmer and infinitely more dangerous for your heart. Her eyebrows lifted, like she knew you had chosen her on purpose. Like she knew you knew. Like the secret had just turned its head and smiled.
She crossed the room with the kind of casual confidence that made everyone else seem like background. “You asking me because I’m helpful or because I’m strong?”
You held the bag out to her. “Can it be both?”
KK dropped into a crouch behind Ice like her knees had given out.
Paige took the bag from you, eyes still on yours. “Yeah. It can be both.”
You hated how easily she said it. Hated how much you liked it.
She fixed the buckle in two seconds, because of course she did, then took the time to adjust the strap properly even though the problem was already solved. Her fingers moved over the material with ridiculous focus, and when she handed it back, she did not step away immediately. “Anything else?”
The question was normal. The tone was not.
You smiled, small and helpless. “Not right now.”
“Not right now,” Paige repeated, amused.
“Don’t get cocky.”
“Too late.”
Tyler cleared his throat.
You had almost forgotten he was there. Paige had not. You knew she had not because her eyes flicked toward him for half a second, polite but flat, then returned to you like the decision had already been made. Tyler’s smile looked tighter now, not angry exactly, but less easy than before.
“I can still help if you need another set of hands,” he said.
“I think she’s good,” Paige said.
The words were mild. Friendly, almost. But there was something under them that made your breath catch, something low and certain. She did not say it like a challenge. She said it like a fact.
You looked at her.
Paige looked back.
For once, you did not rescue the moment by looking away first.
Then Nika said from across the room, loudly, “The bag is fixed.”
Ashlynn burst out laughing.
You closed your eyes. Paige’s mouth twitched, but she did not look embarrassed. If anything, she looked pleased, and that was even worse.
“Thank you,” you said, taking the tripod bag from her.
Paige leaned closer just enough to be annoying. “You’re welcome.”
“Go practice.”
“You bossing me again?”
“Someone has to.”
“You like bossing me around.”
“You like listening.”
Paige froze.
Just a little.
It was worth it.
The look on her face—surprised, amused, flustered in the smallest possible way—was enough to make your entire day. You had never seen Paige caught quite like that, not by something you said. She recovered quickly, because she was Paige, but not before Azzi made a quiet sound into her water bottle and KK whispered, “Oh my god, Y/N got hands,” like she was watching a fight.
Paige tilted her head, eyes narrowing playfully. “That’s how we talking now?”
Your heart was trying to punch its way out of your chest, but you somehow managed to shrug. “I’m just observing.”
KK wheezed. “She used my line.”
Paige pointed at you, still smiling. “Careful.”
“Or what?”
It came out before you could stop it.
The room did not go silent, but your corner of it did. Paige looked at you, and the air between you changed so sharply that you felt it in your fingers. Her smile faded into something slower, more focused. Not inappropriate, not too much, but charged in a way that made the camera strap across your chest feel suddenly heavier. For a second, you remembered her text. Whoever that is better not fumble. You remembered your answer. She better not. You wondered if Paige was thinking about it too.
Then she stepped back, because she had practice and you had work and half the team was watching like they were seconds away from live-commentating.
“Later,” she said.
It sounded like a promise.
You watched her walk toward the court, then turned back to your camera and pretended you were not smiling.
Tyler did not miss it.
That was the first time you noticed something shift with him. It was small, and maybe you would not have caught it if you were not already tuned into the room. His expression tightened at the edges, his eyes moving from Paige to you, then to the team members still poorly pretending they had not been watching. He let out a laugh that did not sound like a laugh and tapped his clipboard against his leg.
“You two close?” he asked.
You kept your attention on your camera settings. “Paige and me?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s my friend.”
The answer felt both true and like a lie wearing a name tag.
Tyler hummed. “Right.”
Something about his tone made you look up. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly, smile returning. “Just seems like she’s around you a lot.”
You did not like the way he said it. Not because he was wrong, but because the words felt like they had hooks on them. Like he was trying to pull a reaction out of you.
You made your voice light. “She’s on the team. I’m shooting the team.”
“Yeah, but you know what I mean.”
You did know what he meant. That was the problem. You also knew you did not owe him an explanation. The realization surprised you with how firm it felt. Maybe a week ago, you would have laughed awkwardly and overexplained, tried to make him comfortable with something that was not his business. But now you could still feel Paige’s warmth beside you, still hear KK’s voice in your head, still remember Azzi saying careful. You did not want to shrink.
So you smiled politely and lifted your camera. “I need to get this shot.”
It was a dismissal. Gentle, but clear.
Tyler held your gaze for half a second too long before nodding. “Yeah. Sure.”
He walked away, and you let out a breath you had not realized you were holding.
You told yourself it was nothing. Maybe he was just awkward. Maybe you were reading too much into it because the whole week had made you hyperaware of every look, every pause, every tone. But across the court, Paige had noticed something too. You knew because when you lifted your camera, she was looking at you instead of the drill forming around her. Not at Tyler. At you. Her expression was no longer jealous, not exactly. It was quieter than that. More alert.
You gave her a tiny smile to tell her you were okay.
She did not look fully convinced.
Practice started, and for a while, the rhythm of work saved you. There was comfort in the camera, in movement, in chasing the right frame. Basketball had a pulse you had learned to follow: the squeak of shoes, the snap of a pass, the sound of the ball hitting the floor, the lift before a shot, the split second after a make when someone’s face opened with satisfaction. You moved along the sideline, crouching when you needed a low angle, stepping back when drills shifted, catching Paige in motion because she was impossible not to catch. She looked different on the court. Sharper. Cleaner. The softness she gave you tucked itself away under focus and instinct. She moved like she knew where everyone would be before they got there, like the court spoke a language she had grown up hearing.
But even then, even in the middle of drills, she kept finding you.
Not constantly. Not enough to mess with practice. Just glances. Quick, checking glances when drills broke, when someone else shot free throws, when the group reset. It should have been distracting. It was, but not in the way you expected. It made you feel watched over. Like even in a room full of noise and movement, someone knew exactly where you were.
The team, unfortunately, also knew exactly where Paige’s eyes were going.
During a water break, Ice wandered toward you under the excuse of grabbing a towel from the table near your setup. “You okay?” she asked softly.
You lowered your camera. “Yeah. Why?”
She glanced toward where Tyler had disappeared near the media staff table. “He seemed weird earlier.”
You blinked, surprised she had caught it too. “A little.”
“Did he say something?”
“Not really.” You adjusted your grip on the camera, not wanting to make it bigger than it was. “Just asked if Paige and I were close.”
Ice’s expression shifted, something protective appearing under her usual sweetness. “That’s weird.”
“It’s fine.”
Before Ice could answer, Nika appeared beside her, taking a towel and speaking without preamble. “It is not his business.”
You stared at her. “Were you listening?”
“Yes.”
“At least lie.”
“No.”
Ice nodded like this was normal. “Nika is direct.”
“I noticed.”
Nika looked toward Tyler, then back at you. “If he bothers you, say something.”
Your throat softened unexpectedly. “I will.”
“Good.”
She walked away like the matter was settled. Ice lingered a second longer, touching your arm lightly. “Seriously. You’re with us, okay?”
You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. “I know.”
That was the part you had not expected when you started working with the team. You had thought you would be adjacent forever, close enough to capture things but not close enough to be part of them. But somewhere between late-night shoots and shared snacks and KK forcing you into truth or dare, they had pulled you into the orbit without asking permission. Team-adjacent, KK had called you. Emotional support media. It was a joke, but it also was not. They looked out for you in the loud, nosy, overwhelming way they looked out for each other.
And Paige looked out for you in a way that made the whole room notice.
After practice ended, the scheming became obvious again, mostly because everyone was terrible at subtlety when they were tired. You were reviewing a set of shots on your camera when Ashlynn came over, dragging Qadence with her, and asked if you could take a “casual candid” of them by the bench. The phrase casual candid was already suspicious, but you humored them, lifting your camera as they posed in a way no candid person had ever posed in their life.
“Natural,” you said dryly.
Ashlynn threw an arm around Qadence. “This is natural.”
“You look like you’re announcing an album.”
“Good. Make us look famous.”
“You already play for UConn.”
“More famous.”
You laughed and took the photos, but then Qadence tilted her head toward the court and called, “Paige, come here!”
Paige, who had been talking to Azzi, looked over. “What?”
“Photo.”
“I’m tired.”
“You love photos.”
“I love good photos.”
“Y/N’s taking it,” Ashlynn said.
Paige paused.
You saw it. Everyone saw it.
Then Paige started walking over.
KK, sitting on the floor stretching, whispered, “That was nasty work,” with deep admiration.
Azzi hid a smile behind her hand.
Paige reached the bench and looked between Ashlynn and Qadence. “What am I doing?”
“Stand there,” Qadence said, pointing beside you instead of beside them.
Paige narrowed her eyes. “Why over there?”
“Lighting,” Ashlynn said immediately.
You looked at her. “The lighting is the same.”
“Creative direction.”
“You do not know what that means.”
“I know enough.”
Paige looked at you, amused. “You letting them boss your shoot?”
“I’m choosing peace.”
“You never choose peace with me.”
“You make it hard.”
“Do I?”
You lifted the camera before your face could betray you. “Stand with them.”
Paige did not stand with them. Of course she did not. She drifted near your shoulder instead, leaning just enough to look at the camera screen after you took the shot. “That one’s blurry.”
“It is not.”
“It is.”
“You haven’t even seen it.”
“I got instincts.”
“You have opinions.”
“Good ones.”
“Debatable.”
Ashlynn looked at Qadence and widened her eyes dramatically. “Wow. We are literally right here.”
Qadence nodded. “They don’t care.”
Paige looked up. “Who don’t care?”
“You,” Ashlynn said. “About our photo.”
“I care.”
“You didn’t even stand in it.”
“I’m supervising.”
“You’re flirting with the photographer.”
The words hit the air like a basketball thrown too hard at a wall.
You froze behind the camera.
Paige’s eyes snapped to Ashlynn.
KK made a sound that was half scream, half cough.
Qadence turned away, shoulders shaking.
Azzi closed her eyes like she had been expecting this eventually but not right now.
Nika, from somewhere near the water bottles, said, “She is not wrong.”
“Nika,” Paige said.
“What? You are.”
You lowered the camera slowly, trying to decide whether laughing would make it better or worse. Paige’s face was a masterpiece of attempted composure. She was not embarrassed exactly, but there was color rising faintly in her cheeks, and her mouth had pressed into a line that looked one second away from becoming a smile. You had seen Paige handle cameras, crowds, interviews, pressure. You had seen her miss a shot and come back like nothing could touch her. But apparently being accused of flirting with you by Ashlynn Shade was where her system started to glitch.
“I’m not flirting,” Paige said.
The room disagreed loudly.
You almost felt bad for her.
Almost.
Instead, you tilted your head and asked, “You’re not?”
Paige looked at you.
The room went worse than silent. It went hungry.
Paige’s expression changed slowly, and you realized, with a thrill of terror, that you had stepped onto the court and handed her the ball. She recovered in real time, the surprise turning into amusement, then confidence, then something warm enough to make your knees feel less reliable.
“You want me to be?” she asked.
Your brain emptied.
Completely.
KK fell backward onto the floor. “OH MY GOD.”
Ice covered her face with both hands.
Azzi turned away, laughing silently.
Nika said something in another language that sounded like a prayer for patience.
You stared at Paige, heat rushing to your face, but there was no escaping now. Not when everyone was watching. Not when you had asked first. Not when Paige looked so pleased with herself for finally landing one after you had spent the whole day making her react.
So you lifted the camera again, mostly to hide behind it, and said, “Maybe focus on the photo, Bueckers.”
Paige’s grin softened at the edges. “That wasn’t a no.”
“It wasn’t a yes.”
“Wasn’t a no.”
“You are impossible.”
“Been told.”
You took the photo before she could see you smiling too hard.
The rest of the afternoon carried that moment around like a secret nobody planned to keep. The team kept throwing looks at each other. KK kept mouthing things at you from behind Paige’s back. Ice smiled every time Paige drifted toward your station again. Azzi, quiet but devastating, told Paige to “focus on the photo, Bueckers” once in passing and nearly made Paige choke on her water. Even Nika seemed amused, which somehow made it worse because Nika’s amusement had the weight of official judgment.
By the time you were packing up, the gym had emptied enough that the echoes came back. Practice had ended, most of the team had gone toward the locker room, and the media staff were gathering gear near the tunnel. You were kneeling beside your equipment case, coiling a cord, when Tyler appeared again.
You felt him before you looked up.
“Need help?” he asked.
The words were normal. The tone was not as light as before.
You glanced over your shoulder. “I’m okay.”
“You sure? You’ve got a lot of stuff.”
“I’ve got it.”
He did not leave. Instead, he crouched near the case, too close to your side, and reached for one of the cords. “I can wrap this.”
You put your hand on it before he could take it. “No, it’s fine. I have a system.”
He laughed, but there was something strained underneath it. “You always this particular?”
You smiled politely without looking at him. “With my equipment, yeah.”
“Right.” He paused. “Or do you only let Paige help?”
Your hand stilled.
There it was.
Not enough to be a scene. Not enough for anyone across the gym to hear and immediately step in. But enough for your stomach to tighten. Enough for the air around you to feel smaller. You looked at him then, really looked, and found him smiling like he had asked something casual, like there was not an edge tucked under it.
You kept your voice even. “Paige didn’t touch my cords.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
You sat back slightly, creating space. “Tyler.”
“What?” he said, holding up one hand. “I’m just saying. You two seem… close.”
“That’s not really your business.”
His smile faltered. “I’m not trying to be rude.”
“Okay.”
“I just thought we were cool.”
“We are cool.”
“Doesn’t really feel like it.”
You did not know what to do with that. Not because he was intimidating exactly, but because the conversation had gone from mildly annoying to uncomfortable in a way that made your thoughts scatter. You hated moments like this, moments where someone acted like your politeness had been a promise and your boundaries were suddenly a betrayal. You looked toward the other side of the gym, but the nearest staff member had their back turned, packing a light stand. The locker room doors were partly closed. You could hear faint laughter from inside, the team still nearby but not right there.
“I need to finish packing,” you said, turning back to the case.
Tyler did not move right away. “You don’t have to be like that.”
Your throat tightened.
Then, from behind him, Paige said, “Like what?”
Tyler turned.
You looked up so fast your neck twinged.
Paige stood a few feet away, practice bag slung over one shoulder, hair still damp at the edges from sweat, her expression unreadable in a way that made the entire space feel different. She was not smiling. She was not doing the jealous thing from earlier, not the cocky, irritated who do you think you are look that had made your stomach flutter because it was harmless and kind of cute. This was quieter. Sharper. Focused not on Tyler being near you, but on the way you were sitting too still on the floor with a cord in your hand and your polite smile gone.
The difference hit you hard.
She knew.
Not the whole conversation, maybe. Not every word. But she knew something was wrong.
Tyler straightened. “Nothing. We were talking.”
Paige’s eyes moved to you.
The question was there without her saying it.
You could have brushed it off. A week ago, you might have. You might have smiled and said it was fine, because you hated making things awkward, hated being the reason a room shifted, hated needing help when you could technically handle something. But Paige was looking at you like your answer mattered more than everyone else’s comfort, and behind her, through the slight opening near the locker room, you could see Nika pause mid-step, then Azzi behind her, then KK appearing under Nika’s arm like a nosy guardian angel.
You exhaled.
“We were done talking,” you said.
Paige’s eyes stayed on yours for one more second.
Then she looked at Tyler.
“Then she’s good,” Paige said.
Tyler’s jaw tightened. “I wasn’t bothering her.”
Paige did not move closer yet. She did not raise her voice. Somehow that made it stronger. “She said she’s done talking.”
The gym had gotten quiet in pieces. Not fully. Not dramatically. But enough. Enough that Nika stepped out from the locker room doorway. Enough that Azzi’s expression cooled. Enough that KK stopped looking entertained and started looking pissed. Ice appeared behind them, concern already written across her face.
Tyler seemed to notice the audience at the same time you did, and his frustration shifted into embarrassment. “Whatever,” he muttered, looking away. “Didn’t realize everybody needed to get involved.”
Paige took one step forward then, placing herself beside you rather than directly in front of you. It mattered. She did not block you out of the conversation like you were helpless. She just came close enough that you did not feel alone in it anymore.
“You good?” she asked you, voice low.
You nodded, but it came out small. “Yeah.”
Paige held your gaze. “For real?”
The softness of it almost broke you. Not because anything terrible had happened, not really, but because it could have kept going. Because you had been uncomfortable and trying to calculate the politest escape. Because Paige had noticed without you having to say her name.
“For real,” you said, steadier this time.
Only then did Paige turn back to Tyler. Her hand came down lightly to the edge of your equipment case, close to your arm but not touching you yet. “You can go.”
Tyler let out a bitter little laugh. “You her bodyguard now?”
Before Paige could answer, Nika said from behind her, “Yes.”
KK stepped beside Nika. “And I’m backup.”
Ice, softer but firm, added, “She said she was done.”
Azzi said nothing. She did not need to. Her stare was enough.
Tyler looked around at all of them, then scoffed under his breath. “Cool. Got it.”
He walked away.
Nobody moved until he was out of the gym.
For a moment, all you could hear was the faint hum of the lights and the uneven rhythm of your own breathing. Then KK crossed the distance first, dropping into a crouch beside you with none of her usual dramatics.
“Y/N,” she said, voice soft in a way that made your eyes sting unexpectedly. “You okay?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine. He was just being weird.”
Nika’s mouth tightened. “That was not fine.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“It does not need to be worse to matter,” Azzi said quietly.
That sentence settled over you.
Paige was still beside you, still watching your face with careful eyes. She had not touched you yet, and somehow that made you feel even more looked after. Like she was waiting for permission, not assuming she could take space just because she wanted to protect you.
You looked at her.
Her jaw was tight. Not with jealousy. With restraint.
“Paige,” you said softly.
Her expression shifted immediately. “What do you need?”
The question was so earnest, so immediate, that you almost forgot how to answer. Behind her, KK pressed both hands to her mouth, but for once she had the sense not to make a sound.
You glanced at the half-packed equipment case, then back at Paige. A few hours ago, asking her to open a clamp had felt like flirting. Now asking felt different. Not heavier exactly, but honest in a way that made your chest feel warm and sore.
“Can you help me pack this?”
Paige’s face softened.
“Yeah,” she said. “I got you.”
This time, nobody joked.
She crouched beside you, close enough that her shoulder brushed yours as she reached for the cords. Her movements were careful, slower than usual, following your system after you explained it instead of taking over. KK grabbed your tripod bag without asking. Ice collected the extra batteries. Nika carried the light stand to the media table with the kind of efficiency that suggested she was imagining it was Tyler’s head. Azzi checked with the remaining staff quietly, her voice low and calm as she asked where Tyler had gone and whether someone needed to be told he had made you uncomfortable. Ashlynn and Qadence showed up halfway through, immediately serious when they realized the mood had shifted, and without asking too many questions, they started helping too.
The whole team moved around you.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.
Just there.
And Paige stayed beside you the whole time.
When the last zipper closed, you sat back on your heels, exhausted in a way that felt bigger than the moment itself. Paige reached for the case handle but paused, glancing at you first.
“You want me to carry it?” she asked.
It was such a Paige question. Familiar enough to make you smile. Careful enough to make you want to cry.
You nodded. “Please.”
The word did something to her. You saw it in her face, the way the tightness eased, the way her eyes softened before she looked down and lifted the case like it weighed nothing.
“Anytime,” she said.
KK, standing behind her, mouthed something at you that looked suspiciously like marry her.
You gave her a look.
She shrugged, unrepentant but gentler than usual.
The walk out of the gym happened in a cluster this time. Not because they thought you could not walk alone, but because nobody wanted to leave you with the leftover weirdness of the room. Nika walked ahead, still annoyed. Ice stayed near your side, asking if you wanted water. Azzi kept pace with Paige, speaking quietly to her in a tone you could not hear but could guess from Paige’s nods. KK looped her arm through yours halfway down the hall and leaned her head against your shoulder for exactly two seconds before going back to normal.
“You know,” KK said, “I was gonna make a joke about Paige carrying your stuff again, but I’m being mature.”
“You’re announcing the maturity,” you said.
“Because I want credit.”
“You can have half credit.”
“Rude.”
Paige glanced over from your other side. “Half is generous.”
KK gasped. “Don’t start with me, Bueckers. I’m on your side.”
“You got a weird way of showing it.”
“I am literally your best soldier.”
“You are my biggest problem.”
“Same thing.”
You laughed quietly, and Paige looked at you when you did. The concern in her face eased a little more, replaced by something warm and relieved. It made you realize she had been waiting for that too. Not just for you to say you were okay, but to see it. To hear it.
Outside, the air was cold again, but this time you did not tuck your hands into your sleeves. You were too aware of Paige beside you, carrying your equipment case with one hand, her other hand free at her side. The group started to split near the walkway, some of the girls heading toward the dorms, others toward food, but Paige stayed with you, as expected. This time, no one teased her for it.
Azzi only touched Paige’s arm briefly and said, “Text me later.”
Paige nodded. “Yeah.”
Nika looked at you. “If he says something again, tell us.”
“I will.”
“Immediately.”
“Yes, Nika.”
“Good.”
Ice hugged you quickly, soft and warm. “Love you.”
You smiled into it. “Love you too.”
KK pointed two fingers at her eyes, then at you, then at Paige. “I’m watching both of you.”
Paige sighed. “There it is.”
“I was mature for like eight minutes. That’s growth.”
Then they were gone, leaving you and Paige on the sidewalk with your equipment case between you and a silence that felt different from the others. Less charged, maybe. More tender. The kind of quiet that came after being seen in a way you had not planned.
Paige started walking first, slower than usual.
“You sure you’re okay?” she asked.
You nodded. “Yeah. I think I was just… uncomfortable.”
“That’s enough.”
You looked at her.
She kept her eyes forward, jaw still set slightly. “You don’t gotta make it sound smaller.”
Your throat tightened. “I know.”
“Do you?”
You smiled faintly. “I’m trying to.”
Paige looked at you then, and her expression gentled. “Good.”
The walk continued, the campus lights glowing soft against the dark. You could hear the wheels of the equipment case over the sidewalk whenever Paige shifted it from one hand to the other. After a while, you glanced at her.
“You weren’t jealous that time.”
Paige’s eyebrows lifted. “That time?”
You felt your face warm, but you kept going because the truth sat between you easier now. “Earlier you were.”
“I was not.”
“You were.”
“I was protecting your tripod bag.”
“You were glaring at Tyler because he offered to help.”
“He was doing too much.”
“He was offering to open a buckle.”
“And?”
You laughed softly, and Paige’s mouth twitched.
“But later,” you said, quieter, “when he was being weird, you weren’t jealous.”
Paige looked ahead again, and for a moment her face turned serious in the passing light. “No.”
“Why?”
“Because you looked uncomfortable.”
The answer came too easily. No performance. No joke. No dodge. Just the truth.
Your chest ached.
Paige glanced at you, then back at the sidewalk. “That’s different.”
You nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“I’m not gonna play around with that.”
“I know.”
“And I’m not gonna act like—” She stopped, exhaling through her nose like she had almost said too much. “I don’t know. I just didn’t like it.”
The honesty in her voice made you brave in a quiet way. “I didn’t either.”
Paige’s expression tightened, but her voice stayed soft. “Next time, just say my name.”
You swallowed.
“Even if it’s nothing,” she added. “Even if you just feel weird. Say my name.”
You looked at her for a long moment, the cold air brushing your cheeks, the night stretching around you. It should have sounded dramatic. Maybe from anyone else, it would have. But from Paige, it sounded simple. Like a plan. Like a promise she did not need to dress up.
“Okay,” you said.
Paige nodded once. “Okay.”
You reached your building too soon.
She stopped at the entrance, setting your equipment case upright beside you. Neither of you moved toward the door immediately. The light above the entrance buzzed faintly, the same unromantic glow as always, but tonight it made everything feel softer. Paige tucked her hands into her hoodie pocket and looked at you with a carefulness you were starting to recognize too well.
“Thank you,” you said.
“For carrying your case?”
“For noticing.”
Paige’s face changed. The cocky answer was there. You could see it waiting. Anytime, media girl. Somebody has to. Your equipment looked threatened. She could have said any of it, and you would have laughed, and the moment would have stayed safe.
She did not.
“Always,” she said instead.
The word landed deeper than it should have.
You looked down, smiling because if you did not, you might do something terrifying, like reach for her hand. Paige seemed to be thinking something similar, because when you looked back up, her eyes were on you in a way that made the air feel thin.
Then her phone buzzed.
She closed her eyes. “If that’s KK, I’m transferring.”
You burst out laughing, and just like that, the moment loosened without disappearing.
Paige pulled out her phone and checked it. Her expression went flat.
“KK?” you guessed.
“She sent a picture of us walking and said ‘security detail era.’”
You laughed harder. “She is actually insane.”
Paige showed you the photo, and sure enough, it was a slightly blurry image taken from behind, Paige walking beside you with your equipment case in hand, your shoulders angled toward each other like gravity had gotten involved. You stared at it for a second longer than necessary.
“She’s annoying,” Paige said.
“It’s kind of cute.”
Paige looked at you.
“The photo,” you clarified quickly.
Her smile returned slowly. “Yeah?”
You handed the phone back, trying not to fold under the look she was giving you. “Yeah.”
Paige looked down at the photo again, then locked her phone. “Keep saying stuff like that, you’re gonna make KK worse.”
“She’s already worse.”
“True.”
You shifted your weight, fingers curling around your own sleeve. “You should go before she starts taking more photos from the bushes.”
“She probably already is.”
“Probably.”
Neither of you moved.
Finally, Paige nodded toward the door, echoing every goodbye before this one and somehow making it feel new. “Text me when you’re inside.”
You smiled. “You’re literally going to watch me walk in.”
“And then you’re gonna text me.”
“Bossy.”
“You like listening.”
You froze.
Paige’s grin spread, slow and victorious, because she knew exactly what she had done. She had taken your earlier line and handed it back to you under the yellow building light, soft and cocky and warm enough to make your face burn.
“That’s how we talking now?” you asked, borrowing her words too.
Her eyes stayed on yours. “Maybe.”
You hated her.
You liked her so much it felt stupid.
“Goodnight, Paige,” you said, before your mouth could betray you further.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
You walked inside, and yes, you looked back through the glass. Paige was still there. Of course she was. This time, instead of lifting her eyebrows, she smiled. Small. Private. Careful.
Upstairs, you texted her before she could ask.
y/n: inside
paige: proud of u again
y/n: big accomplishment?
paige: huge
y/n: thank you for helping today
paige: always
You stared at that word again.
Always.
Then another message came through.
paige: and y/n
y/n: yeah?
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
paige: next time don’t wait so long to look at me
Your breath caught.
Not say my name. Not ask for help. Look at me.
You sat down slowly on the edge of your bed, the room suddenly too quiet around you. The sentence was not a confession. Not exactly. But it was closer than anything had been before. It was Paige telling you she had been watching for you to need her. It was Paige telling you she had noticed the moment you felt off. It was Paige telling you she wanted to be chosen before things got bad, not just after.
You typed back with your heart in your throat.
y/n: okay
y/n: next time i’ll look at you
Paige answered almost immediately.
paige: good
Then:
paige: i’ll be looking anyway
You pressed your phone to your chest and stared at the ceiling, smiling so hard it hurt.
Across campus, the team group chat was probably already on fire. KK was probably screaming. Azzi was probably pretending not to encourage it while absolutely encouraging it. Ice was probably sending heart emojis. Nika was probably telling everyone to stop being idiots and do something. Ashlynn and Qadence were probably zooming in on the blurry photo like it held government secrets.
But for once, you did not care that everyone knew.
Because maybe, just maybe, Paige was starting to know too.
tag list: @slutformenwithglasses @aimee-wowwie @lovewbb17 @moon175 @mmullereduarda @maggieeeejo
I just logged back in today and I might start writing tomorrow or the next day. Im getting really busy since me and my friends have plans together. But, im sure ill be able to post the first part on friday this week or monday next week <3
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