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THE STORY OF US. hopkins!paige bueckers x rival!oc

♡ જ⁀➴ SYNOPSIS. ever since st. paul central beat hopkins in the state championship three years ago, star players jordyn crawford and paige bueckers have vehemently hated each other— or, at least, that's the version of the story they tell everyone else. now, competing once again in aau nationals, their years–long rivalry is way too close for comfort, with both girls being forced to spend a whole week in the same hotel... and their meddling friends definitely aren't making it any better.

contains. hopkins!paige, rivals to lovers, slow burn, miscommunication trope, fluff, angst, crude humor, gulling and other shakespearean shenanigans, a kiss, comphet (kinda)

notes. ok before y'all start to tear me up just know i really did believe i'd have this done within like a week of the first part lmao. the good thing is that even tho my old laptop was literally destructed last month i saved these photos in my drafts so i didn't have to remake everything hooray! i wanted to squeeze more paige pov but it was just not working so i'll try as much as i can in the final part. as always, it's not exactly proofread so sorry for any mistakes or repetitiveness, plus ts was written completely out of order. feel free to let me know whatu think! next update will be in july of 2058 <3

playlist. link

words. 10.87k

the sun rises over chicago the next morning, bright and unassuming, as if nothing at all has changed.

jordyn groans quietly, rolling over and stretching her long legs. right off the bat, she doesn’t feel great, already knowing she’s going to spend the rest of the day with unsightly bags from just how sore her eyes feel. there’s an annoying tapping sound coming from the other side of the room, as well.

drowsily, she lifts her head, searching for the source, and quickly finds it— harper, in her bed, already sitting up against the headboard and typing on her phone. she looks up from the device to glance at jordyn and offers a clipped “morning,” before going back to whatever she was doing.

so, harper’s still mad at her.

the night before comes flooding back in: argument, tears, unwelcome memories. jordyn groans again.

an instant wave of guilt and embarrassment hits her at once, her stomach twisting itself up in shame. harper is her best friend, her teammate, and she’d lashed out at her. god, and over something so stupid.

so, she and paige kissed— so what? it was one time, four years ago, and it didn’t matter to either of them. the fact that she’s even thinking about it right now is just pathetic. it’s embarrassing. she’s so much better than that.

even though it was less than twenty–four hours ago, jordyn can’t believe she was so mean to harper. she winces, recalling her tone and the things she’d said, her own voice echoing loud and clear in her head, not sounding like her at all. she would never deliberately hurt harper, but she still did, because she was in her feelings when she had no right to be. she feels like the world’s biggest piece of trash.

she wants to fix it, but she can harper have never even fought before. is there anything she can say to fix it? what if harper doesn’t want to be friends with her anymore? that thought terrifies jordyn more than anything else. she has to try to make things right.

awkwardly, jordyn sits up in her bed, adjusting her silk bonnet, which had gone askew as she slept, with her tossing and turning all through the night. “harp?” she tries, voice careful.

harper is silent. she doesn’t even look her way.

jordyn purses her lips, feeling a pang in her chest, but she gets it. she deserves that. softly, she persists, “i’m really sorry about last night. i didn’t mean to blow up at you like that.”

harper looks over finally, meeting her eyes, and just for a second, jordyn considers telling the whole truth. colorado, the state championship, the years after— all of it. maybe she’ll feel better after talking about it, like a weight lighting from her shoulders at last, and she’d finally just forget about it.

paige clearly has.

the thought triggers another painful twist in the pit of jordyn’s stomach. she swallows the words back, and the lie conjures itself up, spilling from her mouth instead. “it’s the tournament. the stress is driving me crazy. i just— i really wanna win.” she sighs, shaking her head at herself. “but that’s still not an excuse for anything i did. i don’t actually think jalen is dumb, or that you’re dumb for liking him, or anything like that. i’m actually happy for you, as long as he’s a good guy and stuff. just— i’m sorry, and i get it if you don’t wanna hang out with me today.”

harper doesn’t say anything. she just stands up, walks over, and throws herself onto jordyn, wrapping her arms around her in a hug, squeezing tight. “it’s okay, jordy,” she says, face smooshed into jordyn’s shirt. “i forgive you.”

if jordyn could breathe right now, she’d be sighing in relief, but harper’s arms are genuinely squeezing the life out of her. still, she hugs her back. “sorry for pushing. i’ll leave it alone. no more paige talk.” harper promises.

jordyn laughs weakly, still suffocating, actually starting to feel a little lightheaded. she chokes out a “thanks,” and harper finally lets go.

there’s a glint in her brown eyes as she steps back, looking up at jordyn— something distinctly different from the brightness that’s usually there, almost mischievous. “okay! let’s get ready!” she chirps, practically skipping over to her suitcase. “it’s a new day! big games! big opportunities! big… surprises!”

she’s like that for the rest of the morning, practically bouncing of the walls as they get ready, like someone cranked up the dial to the highest setting of her harper–ness. not that jordyn is complaining— she loves that about her— but it does make her side–eye her friend from the bathroom as she brushes her teeth, watching quizzically as harper texts someone. she’s grinning wildly, fingers tapping rapidly against the screen of her phone.

must be jalen, she thinks. shrugs, spits the toothpaste into the sink, and goes on with getting ready.

“…i’m just saying. i feel bad for jordyn.”

it’d be embarrassing, how quickly paige’s knee pad slips from her hand at just the mention of jordyn’s name, if anyone else was in this row of the locker room to see it. thankfully, paige is on her own, one of the latest to finish getting ready ahead of the game. she bends over the bench, picking up it up from the concrete floor and pulling it over her right ankle— but not without continuing to listen closely, wanting to hear everything.

kk and mia’s voices echo off the concrete walls, coming from the other side of the lockers that paige has her back turned to. it’s no time to be gossiping, five minutes before they have to be out on the floor for their first bracket game. as the team captain, she should shut this down. everyone needs to be locked in, focused on advancing to the finals.

a reminder can wait until later, she decides, slipping her knee pad all the way on.

mia gasps. “why? elite won all their games yesterday.”

“it’s not about that,” kk replies. “it’s about paige, and the fact that jordyn likes her.”

paige’s eyebrows shoot up— then, she almost laughs.

likes her? please.

paige doesn’t think jordyn is capable of liking anything. her head’s stuck too far up her own ass. her heart— if she even has one— is made of cold, hard stone. she probably hasn’t thought about that night since it happened, unless it was to use the memory as fuel to lock in before she played paige, because she’s just that twisted.

even so, paige feels her own heart give a little twinge. quickly, she shoves it away, compartmentalizes it, and kicks herself for even letting herself feel it at all.

mia scoffs. “yeah, right.”

“didn’t you hear about what justice said the other day, when we first got here?” kk says.

mia gasps again, dramatically. “no? tell me! was it something about p?”

“justice said she overheard harper talking to kennedy at dinner after the opening ceremony,” kk says. “apparently, while jordyn was showering, harper went snooping on her phone and found a deleted draft in her notes app. it was a whole essay about paige. she wrote that she ‘always knows where jordyn is’ and how she’s basically the only player jordyn respects.”

paige smirks to herself. well, duh, she thinks. jordyn would know that— she gets a front row seat to the paige bueckers show all the time.

she doesn’t believe that she’d actually say it, though. after all, this is jordyn they’re talking about. she’d probably saw her own tongue off before she actually said something nice about paige. it’s just the way it is.

as if reading her mind, mia speaks her thoughts from the other side of the lockers, “jordyn— as in jordyn crawford— said that about paige? no way.”

“that’s what i said! but it’s coming from her own friends. i mean, why would they lie?”

paige finds herself nodding along as she listens, brows furrowed in concentration. that does sort of make sense. their teams aren’t exactly cool with each other, so it’s not like justice or anyone else would have a reason to make something like this up. especially not for paige’s sake.

“just think about it,” kk goes on. “it makes sense because it doesn’t make sense. love isn’t logical, and jordyn is totally in love with paige, even though it seems like she hates her.”

“well, maybe she’s only pretending.”

kk hums loudly, as if she’s thinking hard. “i mean, justice said she even wrote that she misses how paige pushes her. what she really meant is that she just misses her.”

“awww, wait! that’s actually kind of sweet,” mia says. “so, do you think paige knows?”

“nope. jordyn would never actually tell her. she probably thinks paige would just clown her for it.”

mia snorts. “she totally would. you know how she is.”

paige’s immediate instinct is to interject, ask them what that’s supposed to mean, but resists the urge so that she can keep listening, instead opting to jut her bottom lip out in an offended pout.

“who knows. maybe she’ll figure it out on her own…” kk trails off, before both of the girls burst into giggles. there’s footsteps that echo throughout the locker room, growing farther as the girls head for the door, followed by the sound of the heavy metal slamming behind them.

paige waits a beat longer, just in case, before she starts thinking. she counts to five in her head— one, two, three, four— nothing. no laughter, no footsteps circling back, no sudden gotcha! from behind the lockers. she straightens slowly.

okay. okay. let’s be logical about this.

first of all, no one benefits from lying to her in this situation. not kk, not mia, not anyone on the elite. if anything, they’d probably get more entertainment out of warning her that jordyn has been plotting on her demise, not… whatever that was.

secretly pining. saying nice things. missing her.

second, if this is some kind of elaborate trick to get into her head and make the stars easier to beat, it’d be a dumb one, and jordyn crawford is many things, but dumb isn’t one of them. she isn’t putting her energy into orchestrating an elaborate prank; she’s putting it all into training so she can beat paige, prove herself fair and square. this isn’t about throwing paige off.

and third—

paige presses her tongue to the inside of her cheek, thinking back.

the way jordyn always knows where paige is on the court. the way she locks in harder against her than anyone else. the way her jaw tightens just a little when paige celebrates. the way she never looks indifferent— just focused. angry. like it matters.

like the kiss still matters.

paige straightens up, have an epiphany.

jordyn likes her.

slowly, she feels the corners of her lips curl up into a smug grin.

jordyn likes her.

“wooooooo! go jalen!”

jordyn winces, covering her ear. harper’s shrill voice stabs at her eardrum as she cheers beside her, clapping and bouncing excitedly.

on the court, only a few feet ahead, jalen flexes his arms in celebration before making his way to the other end of the court, quick on his feat. he’d just gone on a fast break, which jordyn admits was pretty impressive— but still, not that impressive. with the way harper is acting, you’d think he just ripped off his jersey and went full magic mike.

she glances at harper from the corner of her eye as her friend sits back down beside her, and the black–haired girl gives her a sheepish smile. “sorry,” harper says.

jordyn lets go of her ear. “oh, no, please keep going,” she nods with faux enthusiasm. “more fuel for me to use to humiliate you with when i give my speech at your wedding.”

harper laughs and pushes her on the shoulder, and jordyn smiles. there are probably a million different ways she’d rather be spending her free time before lunch— like getting up some extra shots or watching film or maybe scouting the team they’re playing later— but harper had arranged with jalen to come watch the sizzle’s game since it aligned with the end of theirs, so here she is.

she still feels pretty shitty about last night, so she honestly isn’t all that upset about being here, as long as she and harper are back to normal. and it’s good basketball, which she’ll never complain about. the sizzle is a great team, with jalen and chet being obvious standouts, but the guys they’re playing against are strong as well, making the score pretty tight so far. the refs, though, are a joke. they’ve been making questionable calls all game.

jordyn shakes a bit of the granola she bought from a vending machine into her hand, eyes fixed on the court as she pops them into her mouth. the other team’s guard scores, momentarily taking the lead, but once the ball is back in the sizzle’s possession, they pull off an impressive horns set— jalen swiftly using a screen from chet to get the ball to another teammate, who sinks a wide open three— that has jordyn cheering alongside harper.

“see? i told you, he’s so good!” harper chimes over the applause of the rest of the audience, utterly smitten with the boy.

“yeah, he’s alright, i guess,” jordyn teases, clapping.

just then, a blurry figure appears in the corner of jordyn’s eye, and her smile falters. her body instinctively tenses, spine straightening, but she pretends to be focusing on the game, looking straight ahead at the court.

it’s paige. she knows it, instantly recognizing the blonde hair and black and green of her jersey, even though she sort of looks like a blob. it absolutely is her. jordyn watches her from her peripheral vision, intently tracking the other girl’s movements.

except, paige gets closer and closer and closer. by time it clicks that paige is actually approaching them, it’s already too late.

harper notices, nudging jordyn and whispering, “girl, i think—”

“i know.” jordyn whispers back. she glances over, and oh brother—

paige is right there.

she plops down in the seat directly next to jordyn’s. “‘sup,” the blonde says, leaning forward to nod at her and harper in that irritating, casually cool way she does.

“oh, hey, paige,” harper shoots jordyn a look as she replies, as friendly and chipper as ever. “did you come to watch the boys play, too?”

paige nods, and then the two of them are having friendly small talk, fraternizing with the enemy. harper updates paige on what she missed in the first quarter, paige tells harper about how she and jalen go way back and he’s a really good dude, blah blah blah. between them, jordyn is completely silent, arms crossed stubbornly.

“crawford.” paige turns her attention to jordyn.

jordyn finally turns to face the blonde. she’s infuriatingly casual, holding a bag of chips and can of pop in only one hand, looking back at jordyn as if what she’s doing is totally normal. “what are you doing?” the curly–haired girl says stiffly.

“watching my friends’ game,” paige responds. “duh.”

jordyn fixes her with a look that’s meant to be stern but only seems to amuse paige, the corners of the blonde’s lips soaring up into a smile. “i mean here.”

“last time i checked, you don’t own the building. anyone can sit anywhere.” paige replies matter–of–factly.

jordyn rolls her eyes. “right. but i’m the one who’s desperate?”

paige shrugs. “i mean, who else were you leaving this seat open for?”

it shouldn’t be this easy for her to get on jordyn’s nerves, but alas. “i’d literally rather tear both my acls and never touch a basketball again than be anywhere near you, bueckers. get over yourself.” she says, turning back to face the court.

so, jordyn has no choice but to spend the rest of the game with paige at her side. she’s certainly not going to be the one to move when she was here first, but she’s not going to participate in whatever stupid game she came to play, either. she’ll just pay her no mind.

it takes thirty seconds for them to start bickering.

somehow, paige is even more annoying than usual— a feat that would perplex and amaze even the greatest of scientists. for one, she won’t stop talking, making the most unnecessary comments, chattering jordyn’s ear off for the entirety of the third quarter. for two, she can’t take a hint, refusing to leave even though jordyn only replies in heavy sighs, eyerolls, and snark. if anything, she seems to take some sort of sick satisfaction from it, smirking and laughing at her obvious discontentment.

beside them, harper is suspiciously quiet, watching them interact with barely contained joy. jordyn doesn’t notice. paige becomes the center of her attention, more engaged with her than she is the game at this point.

at one point, having finished off her own snacks, the blonde reaches over, helping herself to jordyn’s granola. jordyn tries to stop her, clamping the bag shut, but paige is too quick. she manages to grab a handful and drops it all into her mouth at once. “keep your dirty hands out of my nuts.” jordyn scolds, yanking the bag out of reach.

paige has a truly goofy look on her face as she looks over at jordyn, giving her a side–eye, mouth still full. “yo. pause.”

harper giggles beside her at the childish joke. laughter tickles at jordyn’s ribs, but she refuses to give paige the satisfaction, biting it back. “shut up,” she huffs instead, rolling her eyes. “you’re so stupid.”

the blonde grins. “you’re the one talking about nuts! i’m just trying to enjoy the game.”

“well, you could go enjoy it somewhere else,” jordyn shoots back. she hates that paige is kind of funny, the corners of her lips threatening to turn up into a smile. she pretends to rub at her face, trying to hide it.

paige looks right at her and says, “nah, i’m good right where i’m at.”

jordyn falters.

there’s a sudden burst of noise from the crowd in reaction to the game, which has both their heads whipping back to the court. jalen is driving hard to the rim, absorbing contact as he does so. the ball pops loose as he collides with his defender under the basket, rattling off the iron before falling in— two points for the sizzle and an obvious block call to anyone with a working set of eyes.

the ref’s whistle shrieks. offensive foul.

“what?” harper gasps, already half–way out of her seat. “are you kidding me?!”

jordyn is on her feet before she even realizes it, as if the foul was called on her. “oh, come on!” she snaps, throwing her arms out. “he wasn’t even set!”

“that’s a block!” paige barks beside her, incredulous. she’s standing, too, hands on her hips, leaning forward like she might go down there check herself in. “he slid. he clearly slid.”

the three girls are shoulder to shoulder, all talking at once.

“that’s insane!”

“call it both ways!”

“are you blind?!”

a parent a few rows down twists around with a glare. another shushes them harshly. the ref pointedly ignores all complaints, especially those coming from the players. jalen’s frustration is palpable, a scowl etched into his features on his way to get into position, uttering something under his breath.

harper huffs, dropping back into her seat. “un–fucking–believeable.”

jordyn scoffs, shaking her head. she sits down at the exact same time that paige does. their knees knock together without meaning to, skin brushing. jordyn freezes as she automatically looks down— then up.

paige is already looking at her.

jordyn’s breath gets stuck in her throat. it dawns on her just how close they are right then, knees still touching. the closest they’ve been in years without a basketball between them. her eyes are still really, really blue.

they crinkle at the edges, irises twinkling as paige’s lips curve into her telltale smirk. jordyn quickly jerks her leg away, crossing it over the other, before she gets the chance to make whatever slick comment had come to her mind.

she bites the inside of her cheek, staring resolutely back at the court— but she’s hyper–aware of paige beside her, now. the particular timbre of her voice, how smooth her tone is. the easy way she’s sprawled, like she belongs anywhere she sits. the fact that she can still feel her eyes on her.

despite herself, she stays aware for the rest of the game. the sizzle manages to pull through, beating the other team by ten points in spite of the horrible refereeing. when it’s over, she feels a strange relief, standing with a hasty, “let’s go.” to harper.

harper stands with a tooth–rottingly sweet, “bye, paige! it was nice talking to you!”

paige barely gets her valediction out before jordyn is ushering harper away. “see y’all!” she calls after them.

jordyn stomps off without looking back.

paige watches jordyn move toward the gym doors with harper close behind her, still hurrying to keep up. she doesn’t look away until jordyn’s disappeared into the crowd of other players funneling out.

it worked. it actually worked.

jordyn had insulted her at least a dozen times, threatened a hypothetical career–ending injury to avoid sitting by her, and spent most of the game acting like paige’s presence was the single greatest inconvenience inflicted on her. under normal circumstances, paige might’ve taken all of that at face value.

these are not normal circumstances. now, paige knows better.

jordyn’s threats had been excessive, which obviously meant she was overcompensating. she had let paige steal her snacks instead of smacking her hand away, which practically counts as sharing. she had almost laughed at the stupid nuts joke, even if she’d tried to hide it, and when paige said she was perfectly happy where she was, jordyn had gone completely quiet. and when their skin touched—

there was a spark. she knows jordyn felt it, too.

she should go after her.

not to do anything weird or dramatic. she isn’t going to corner jordyn in some empty hallway and confess her feelings like a loser, or anything like that. she’ll just catch up with her, say something casual. maybe try to have lunch with her and harper.

she stands from her seat, starting toward the exit.

“p!”

paige stops. jalen is jogging toward her from the court, still sweaty from the game, his jersey clinging to his skin and a towel hanging around his neck. he stops right in front of her, blocking her way to the door.

“you see how these refs be doing me, bro?” he says, referring to the bad call.

“yeah, shit’s insane,” paige answers.

“dude had to be on something, ‘cause that guy basically flew.”

“yup,” she says absently, impatiently glancing past him.

jalen follows her gaze to the door. “so, where are you going?”

paige looks back at him. “lunch.”

“perfect. me, too.”

“you’re not gonna wait for your team?” she asks. “what about chet?”

jalen shrugs. “nah, let’s just go.”

jalen starts walking in the opposite direction, to the other side of the gym, where there’s another set of doors to exit from. paige doesn’t move.

after a few steps, jalen glances back. “you coming?”

paige glances toward the door. jordyn and harper are long gone, now. they’re probably going to sit with caitlin, like they did yesterday. that idea suddenly irritates paige more than anything.

paige sighs, following jalen. “yeah.”

they walk side by side across the gym, jalen wiping sweat form his forehead with his towel. he waits until they’re out of the gym, the doors slamming shut behind them to say, “was that crawford you were sitting next to?”

paige grins. “you’re not gonna believe what happened…”

the line in the food court is already ridiculously long when jordyn arrives at the start of lunch, alone. harper wanted pizza from the restaurant on the other side of the building, where another endless line was certainly forming, so they agreed to split up and then meet at the same table where they had sat the day before.

jordyn doesn’t mind. she isn’t particularly hungry, anyway.

the line inches forward at a glacial pace, dozens of players packed shoulder to shoulder, talking loudly over one another. the din all blends together to jordyn, muffled as if taking place on the other side of a glass wall. her mind is stuck elsewhere, replaying the memory of the sizzle game.

not any of the basketball parts, though. just the parts where paige plopped herself down beside her and bothered her for nearly an hour.

i’m good right where i’m at.

jordyn scowls. she honestly can’t wait for this week to be over. not only will she have claimed the trophy, but she’ll be able to spend the remainder of her summer free from the sight and thought of paige bueckers.

the line moves forward another few feet. she grabs a grilled chicken wrap, a bag of chips, and a bottle of water before paying and heading to the seating area. she pauses briefly to scan the sea of tables, when her view is suddenly blocked by someone stepping into her path.

“oh— my fault,” the boy says, stepping to the side instinctively before stopping. his eyes narrow in recognition. “wait. you’re jordyn, right?”

jordyn recognizes him instantly. chet holmgren.

great, she thinks, another one of paige’s lackeys.

“um, yeah…?” she replies warily, having to crane her neck all the way back just to make eye contact.

“i think your friends are looking for you,” he says. “they said if anyone saw you to let you know that they’re eating out in the garden.”

the garden? but couldn’t harper have just texted or called herself?

with the odd way paige was acting earlier, and now one of her friends randomly approaching her, something in jordyn’s gut tells her not to immediately buy it. she glances past the towering boy, trying to spot any of her teammates.

sensing her hesitance, chet rushes to add, “i mean, jalen told me harper said to tell you. said it was too loud in here, or something.” he explains, bumbling through his words and scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. “so… yeah. i don’t know, i’m just the messenger.”

that makes enough sense for jordyn to just take his word. “oh… okay. well, thanks for letting me know.” she says.

“yeah, no problem,” chet replies with a shrug. “see you around.”

chet walks off, while jordyn heads in the opposite direction, to the west building, where the garden is located up on the roof. the glass doors slide open with a soft hiss once jordyn reaches it, all of the noise of the convention center fading behind her.

it’s much quieter up here and the view of the city is fantastic, the sun hanging high above the skyline. planters overflowing with flowers and shrubs line the perimeter of the rooftop, broken up by clusters of tables where a handful of players have escaped the lunchtime rush.

it doesn’t take long to find harper. she’s sitting at a table with kennedy and justice, pizza box open between them, her distinct voice carrying across the otherwise quiet rooftop as the girls engage in an animated conversation. jordyn starts toward them, but stops when she hears harper’s next words, loud and clear.

“…honestly, the whole paige thing is just really sad,”

not yet noticed by the others, jordyn almost groans. can’t she go five minutes without being reminded of paige?

she starts walking again, about to announce herself—

“it’s that bad?” kennedy asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“you have no idea,” harper continues. “jalen told me everything.”

jordyn stops.

a massive decorative planter overflowing with ornamental grasses sits just beside the walkway. without thinking too hard, jordyn quietly sidesteps behind it, crouching low, careful not to drop her lunch. if harper knew she was present, she’d change the topic, and jordyn is suddenly extremely curious about what she has to say.

“she’s obsessed with jordyn,” harper reveals. “jalen said she’s always talking about her. she watches all our games and keeps track of her jordyn’s stats. apparently, she even has a private burner account on instagram so she can stalk her. she takes screenshots of everything and saves it in a secret folder!”

kennedy and justice’s snickers are carried over the rooftop by a gentle breeze, right into jordyn’s ears.

if not for the knowledge that she’d look extremely stupid rising from behind a plant out of nowhere, she would stand right up and tell them how not funny they are. it pisses her off, hearing them all eat up such dumb gossip.

she glances back at the door. maybe, if she moves very slowly, she can get out without being noticed…

“at first i didn’t even really believe it,” the black–haired girl goes on, delight evident in her tone. “i mean, it literally sounds insane. but then today at jalen’s game, paige went out of her way to sit with us, and i swear all she did was stare at and talk to jordyn the whole time. it was so obvious! like, i can’t believe i didn’t notice it before!”

jordyn goes still mid–maneuver, the memories from earlier flashing in her mind. their skin touching, the way paige had looked at her…

no. that’s ridiculous. it was no different than any of their usual interactions. paige was messing with her.

…wasn’t she?

“why not just tell jordyn, then?” kennedy’s voice interrupts jordyn’s racing thoughts. “could you guys imagine the look on her face?” she laughs again.

“that’s the thing. jalen asked me to,” harper explains, her voice going softer, sympathetic. “but i told him he should just let her get over it on her own and never bring it up.”

“why, though?” justice asks, around what sounds like a mouthful of pizza. “you don’t think she’s her type?”

“because i know jordyn,” harper replies. “and i love her, but… she can be kinda intense sometimes. like, with paige, she actually hates her. she literally made me promise not to bring her up, ever. and today at the game, she shut her down over and over again. it was honestly hard to watch.”

jordyn wants to scream. that couldn’t be farther from what happened. sure, she was harsh, but paige was the one who started it. she came over solely to bother her. she spent the whole quarter doing just that.

but harper can’t be just lying, either. she wouldn’t. she’s jordyn’s best friend.

for the first time, jordyn thinks about how she might look from the outside. not as the captain of two elite basketball teams, or as a five–star recruit, or even as paige’s rival— just as jordyn. she pictures herself from harper’s perspective, sitting next to her, watching as she repeatedly brushed paige off while the blonde kept trying to make conversation. seeing every eye roll, hearing every sharp remark.

a pit of shame forms in her stomach.

justice lets out a sympathetic sigh. “yikes.”

“okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but jordyn’s gotta be crazy,” kennedy says. “paige is cool as hell, she’s hot, and she’s the best hooper in the country. any other girl would probably kill to be in her position.”

“yep. everyone loves her.” harper agrees.

“except jordyn.” justice says, and the three girls break into giggles.

jordyn stays rooted for another few seconds, even though her calves have started to hurt from crouching so long, staring blankly at the stone beneath her shoes, trying to convince herself that she didn’t hear what she she just heard.

paige bueckers is not secretly in love with her. she does not have a burner account dedicated to stalking her social media. she does not sit through whole basketball games just for the sake of watching her play.

harper misunderstood whatever jalen said to her. or paige put him up to saying it to her. either way, all that matters is that there’s no truth to the gossip.

that’s the only way she can swallow the lump in her throat and stop her mind from wandering into a labyrinth of memory, mustering the strength to stand on her wobbly knees and step from behind the planter, acting like she wasn’t there the whole time.

“there you are!” harper chimes the second she sees her. “i was just about to text, we thought you got lost.”

jordyn forces herself to smile, approaching the table, hands trembling. “the line was crazy.”

harper scoots her chair to the side, making room for jordyn to sit down in the empty chair beside her, setting her lunch down on the table. for one terrifying moment, the table is silent, the three girls all studying her, and jordyn is convinced one of them is going to tell her to cut the act.

instead, kennedy slides the open pizza box toward her. “want a piece?”

jordyn lets out a sigh of relief. “nah, i’m good,” she replies, trying to sound normal as she peels away the packaging of her chicken wrap. “thanks, though.”

“your loss.” kennedy reaches for another slice herself, and just like that, the moment passes.

lunch carries on like normal. justice brings up the most recent episode of euphoria, and that’s what the girls discuss for the next thirty minutes, arguing over different characters and their decisions. jordyn joins in when she should, laughing at the right moments and offering her opinions when asked, until eventually, even she can almost pretend that nothing that just took place happened. almost.

but that’s something she’ll have to worry about later.

right now, she has a game to win.

usually, basketball makes everything else disappear.

the second jordyn steps onto the court, there’s no room for anything in her head other than the game. every thought narrows down to the ball in her hand, the squeak of sneakers against hardwood, the movement of nine other bodies around her. instinct takes over. everything outside of those four painted line ceases to matter.

but this game is different. from the opening possession, something is off.

not catastrophically. it’s nothing that would make anyone watching think that jordyn crawford has suddenly forgotten how to play basketball. just little things— half a second of hesitation before making a pass, a jumper released slightly too late, a defense rotation she recognizes one beat slower than she should. mistakes small enough to be forgotten individually, but together, they pile up.

so, jordyn does what she always does when things aren’t going her way.

she plays harder.

by the forth quarter, she’s moving on purely instinct— cutting hard, fighting through contact, barking out switches on defense. sweat trickles down her spine, lungs burning every time she pushes the pace. the other team— the hornets, from indiana or iowa or something like that— is good. really fucking good. they’ve been crowding jordyn all quarter, sending help early, forcing the ball out of her hands.

another missed jumper from justice clangs off the rim. it feels like the scoreboard is mocking jordyn as she hustles to the other end of the court. the numbers on the screen blink bright red, the time running down rapidly while the elite’s score remains stuck at fifty–one.

two minutes until the buzzer.

the other team rebounds, scores again. they’re up seven, now. jordyn’s hands fly up to her head, fingers threading into her hair, resisting the urge to rip it all out of her scalp as she wracks her brain for possible solutions.

“time!” comes coach garcia’s voice, along with the piercing shriek of his whistle, slicing through all of the noise. jordyn drags herself to the bench with the rest of the team, chest heaving, aggravation simmering under her skin, turning her stomach. it’s a walk of shame.

she doesn’t dare look out toward the stands.

paige, jalen, and chet are in the crowd. they showed up after halftime and now they’re watching the game, watching her choke, probably reveling in it. she imagines them leaning toward each other, murmuring, dissecting her mistakes. paige’s stupid smirk. that familiar, infuriating look that says i told you so.

coach garcia slams the whiteboard down onto his knee, uncapping the dry erase marker with his teeth. “what are we doing?” he demands, sweeping his gaze over all of the girls before landing squarely on jordyn. “we’re better than this. but right now, we’re playing not to lose instead of playing to win.”

jordyn opens her mouth, only to shut it again when no words come out.

“this is your team,” he continues. “you’re the leader. you set the tone. and the tone i’m getting is hesitant.” he states matter–of–factly, marker squeaking as he draws fast, agressive lines. “i need you attacking. i need you making decisions, not waiting for permission.”

the words sting because she knows he’s right. jordyn nods once, hard, even as frustration coils tight in her chest. she’s doing everything she can. she’s attacking. she just—

she doesn’t want to lose. not in front of her.

coach gracia’s marker squeaks again. “we go high screen here,” he says, tapping the board. “jordyn, you turn the corner. if they collapse, kick. it they don’t, you finish.”

“yes, coach,” she says automatically, but her focus is slipping.

jordyn finally wills her gaze out toward the stands. she doesn’t even know why. maybe she’s bracing herself for the loss, accepting the defeat early so it won’t hurt as bad later on. however, when she actually spots her, it isn’t what she expected.

not at all.

paige is leaning forward in her seat, elbows on her knees, hands clasped tight. her expression is tense, eyebrows drawn together and lips pressed thin, not an inkling of a smile. she doesn’t look smug or amused, even though she should— hell, if it was the other way around and jordyn was out there watching paige crumble, she’d at least be relieved. with elite out of the tournament, unless they somehow royally fuck it up, the trophy is guaranteed to the metro stars. sure, it wouldn’t be as sweet of a victory as beating jordyn herself, but she’d get the the medal and the title and all the bragging rights.

instead, she looks… concerned. worried, like someone who’s actually invested in the outcome of this game. like someone who believes they should be in the finals. like someone who cares.

and she’s looking right at jordyn.

jordyn stiffens when she realizes, mostly out of instinct. this is supposed to be the part where she hardens her glare and looks away, telling herself the way her chest constricts is borne of nothing but pure, unbridled hatred for the blonde girl.

this time, she hears harper’s words from earlier echo in her skull, and it drowns out everything else. the dozen other games taking place on surrounding courts, the commotion of the crowd, her coach still lecturing her teammates— it all fades to background noise.

this is the last thing that should be on her mind, two minutes away from being eliminated in a national tournament— but she can’t look away. why can’t she just look away?

paige tilts her chin upward right then, just barely. the nod is small, nearly imperceptible.

but jordyn sees it. she feels it.

well. this changes everything.

coach’s whistle blows again. “let’s go!” he claps his hands, dismissing the huddle. “lock in!”

jordyn straightens up, rolling her shoulders as she jogs back onto the court, determination renewed. harper, who’d been standing beside her in the huddle, gives her an encouraging pat on the back before running ahead to take position, tightening her ponytail. she signals with two fingers, then points once toward the corner. justice nods, already moving.

first possession out of the timeout, kennedy dribbles the ball up the floor and hands it to jordyn at the top of the key. the defender picks her up immediately, chest–to–chest, trying to pressure her into a mistake.

jordyn takes one dribble, eyes scanning the court, then calls for a screen. justice plants herself near the elbow, solid like a wall, and jordyn uses it hard, turning the corner with her shoulder dipped low. two defenders jump her instantly, hands flailing, trying to cut her off.

fine, she thinks. she keeps her dribble alive just long enough, pivots away from the trap, then snaps the ball out to kennedy on the wing. “swing!” jordyn shouts as she sprints through to the opposite side, dragging her defender with her. kennedy whips it to the corner, where harper is wide open, and harper doesn’t hesitate, letting it fly.

splash. three.

the elite bench erupts, coach garcia punching the air as the crowd cheers.

jordyn glances out toward the stands again, just long enough to see paige, jalen, and chet on their feet. all three of them are cheering, jalen crowing harper’s name and holding up three fingers. jordyn bites down on the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling, and slaps her hand down against harper’s as they sprint to the other side of the court.

the rest of the game might as well be history.

jordyn sinks the shot that takes them into overtime, giving the elite four extra minutes to take it home. she slows the game when elite needs air, speeds it up when the other team starts wobbling. she makes the right passes, takes the right shots, keeps everybody locked in.

when the final buzzer sounds, elite is up five. game over.

jordyn bends forward, hands on her knees, chest heaving as her teammates swarm her. they’re all slapping her on the back and calling her name, harper tugging her into a hug so hard she nearly falls on top of her.

they won. they’re going to the semifinals.

and it wouldn’t have been possible without paige.

the post–game shower gives jordyn time to think.

team usa try–outs, the state championship, everything that’s transpired in the past few days. under the spray of steaming hot water, she ruminates over it all, carefully replaying each and every memory, down to the tiniest details, and by time she’s done, she comes to the conclusion that she might be ready to finally talk to paige— but only after the discusses the entire situation with harper.

jordyn’s extra glad that they made up this morning, because she couldn’t think of a more important time to have a best friend. harper is absolutely going to flip out when she learns the truth about jordyn and paige, but after the surprise wears off she’ll know what to do, what she should say, if she should do anything at all.

except, she can’t find her.

harper’s completely disappeared, somehow. she’s not in the locker room when jordyn towels off and changes into a pair of grey sweatshorts and her blue overtime hoodie. she isn’t with any of their friends, either, when she steps out with her gym bag slung over her shoulder. jordyn searches both the whole north and south buildings of mccormick place high and low—

still, zero sign of harper.

she tries texting and calling. no answer. yet, she can see that harper was just active on instagram. literally, what the hell?

then, she resorts to alerting coach garcia, tracking him down just as he finishes a conversation with a coach of another team. “hey, coach— have you seen harper?” she asks him, trying not to sound too worked up so this doesn’t turn into a whole thing.

“no, i don’t think so. she’s usually with you,” coach garcia replies. “should i be worried? we have to leave in ten minutes.”

“no, no, i just don’t—” jordyn feels her phone vibrate in her hand and cuts herself off with a heavy sigh of relief when she sees harper’s contact light up the screen. “okay, wait, nevermind. she just texted me, so we’re good.”

before the man can ask for further clarification, jordyn’s already turning on her heel, opening the texts as she walks off.

harp 💗: went back to the hotel early with ken and justice!! we’re all going to the jacuzzi harp 💗: hurry up and come down

jordyn: wtf why didn’t u wait for me

buzz.

harp 💗: make sure u look cute ;)

jordyn’s eyebrows pinch together at the last message.

jordyn: ???

a minute passes without a reply, and jordyn sighs.

whatever. she’ll just walk back with coach garcia and the rest of the team, change into her swimsuit, and then they’ll debrief in the hot tub with the two other girls— which actually sounds like a nice way to end the day, when she thinks about it.

fifteen minutes later, when she’s made it to the room, it’s obvious that harper’s already been there, though the girl herself still still nowhere to be found. her backpack is on her bed, game shoes by the door, and the air smells faintly of the fruity body spray from victoria’s secret she douses herself in every day.

walking further into the room, jordyn realizes that harper’s already rummaged through her luggage and laid her bikini out for her. she blinks down at it on her bed for a minute, puzzled by the whole ordeal.

she shakes her head, tells herself not to think too hard about it, and quickly gets changed. the sooner she gets downstairs, the better.

as weird as it was, she thinks about harper’s last text and makes a short detour to the bathroom on her way out. her hair is already down, and it looks fine enough parted down the middle, so she opts to just leave it that way. she quickly grabs a tube of lip gloss and mascara from her makeup bag on the counter, applying both, and also dusts a bit of pink blush onto her cheeks.

she observes herself in the mirror for a second before shrugging. this is as “cute” as it’s going to get.

she grabs one of the plush hotel towels from the cabinet, steps into her slides by the door, makes sure she has her phone and keycard, and heads out.

jordyn knows where the hot tub is because the room is directly across from the gym, where she’s managed to squeeze in a quick workout before breakfast in the mornings. she’s passed the floor–to–ceiling windows plenty of times on her way in and out, usually without giving the room more than a passing glance.

it’s quiet when she reaches it, which doesn’t strike her as particularly strange. it’s getting late, and most of the players are probably upstairs winding down after a long day of games.

through the glass door, the surface of the pool shimmers underneath the overhead lights. jordyn can’t see harper, justice, or kenney, but she figures they must be around the corner where the hot tub is, obscured from view.

jordyn pulls open the heavy glass door and steps inside.

warmth immediately settles over her skin. the sharp smell of chlorine invades her nose, accompanied by the steady rumble of the hot tub jets and quieter slosh of water against tile. she lets go of the door handle, looking for her friends.

“took y’all long dumbasses enough,”

jordyn freezes mid–step, eyes snapping to the other side of the room, where the sound came from, because she knows that voice.

paige.

she’s leaning back against the curved edge of the hot tub, completely alone. her hair is down, tucked behind her ears, the ends damp and slighty wavy, and she’s wearing a black biniki top. her eyes are pointed down at her phone, scrolling with her thumb, oblivious.

jordyn’s stomach plummets. she doesn’t even get a full second to process the situation she just walked herself into before the door clicks shut behind her, loudly. paige glances up, hearing the sound echo.

their eyes meet. for a just a fraction of a second, they both freeze.

then, as if someone suddenly twisted the dial and set the water to a boiling temperature, paige’s entire body jolts, her phone nearly slipping from her hand. “jordyn?!” she blurts.

her saucer–wide eyes start to move downward, actually looking at jordyn, and the blonde blinks rapidly, as if waking herself from a dream. heat rushes to jordyn’s face, now hyper–aware of the fact that she’s just standing around like an idiot in a bikini.

fuck. this is not how this was supposed to go. harper was supposed to be here. and justice and kennedy. she’d rather it be someone from a boys’ team. literally anyone else.

she could still bail, technically— turn around without saying a word, run back to her room, bury herself under the blankets, and forget this ever happened.

but then she remembers that the reason she came down here in the first place was to talk to paige. and here she is, wide–eyed and soaked from the shoulders down, waiting for jordyn to finally… thank her? apologize? she doesn’t even know.

the only thing she’s certain of is that she’s going to kill harper.

jordyn exhales through her nose. without a word, she finds an empty pool chair to set her things down on, kicks her slides off beside it, and approaches the hot tub, trying not to think about the way paige’s eyes are boring into her as she steps into it, sitting directly across from paige.

“hey.” is what she chooses to say.

“…hey.”

and then it’s awkward. neither of them speak for a good minute. just the sound of water sloshing gently between them, bubbling at the surface, glowing turquoise from the lights at the bottom.

paige shifts first. “did you, um, see chet or jalen on your way down here…?” she asks warily, looking over jordyn’s shoulder for the door.

jordyn blinks. “no.”

paige nods slowly. “cool, cool…”

there’s another long stretch of silence. it’s unpleasant, the air thick and tense. neither of them know where to start with… whatever this is. they’d been so good at building this wall between them, never anticipating that they’d end up having to take it down.

paige hates quiet at the best of times; it makes her uneasy. another minute of this and she’ll start squirming. “good game.” she says, breaking the silence, the first chip in the brick.

her voice is so timid, jordyn can hardly hear it over the rumbling of the tub’s jets. “huh?”

“i mean—” she glances at jordyn cautiously. “the game earlier.”

the memory of paige in the stands flashes in jordyn’s mind, and she lets go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “yeah…. it was rough.”

“no shit. looked like y’all were about to get packed up,” paige states matter–of–factly, and jordyn’s eyebrows automatically furrow, which makes paige chuckle before she continues. “but you showed up, got the dub. i can’t even hate.” she lifts her hands up from the water, as if in surrender.

jordyn resorts to her usual defenses; she scoffs, rolls her eyes, looks away. “yeah, yeah, whatever,” she makes sure not to look back at paige’s face as she forces out her next words, “you guys didn’t suck, either.”

paige snorts. “how touching.”

“don’t get used to it.” jordyn deadpans.

this next bout of silence isn’t nearly as awkward and doesn’t last as long. paige relaxes back against the tub, setting her phone face–down on the ledge and stretching her arms across it. “so… uhhhh…” she seems to mentally sift through the short list of topics that won’t end in a fist fight, eventually settling on, “do you know where you’re committing? or is it still in the air?”

jordyn feels the tension in her shoulders ease, just slightly. college talk is easy. she can do that. “why?” she narrows her eyes at the blonde, letting her tone border on playful. “you scouting?”

paige shrugs, attempting to bite back a smile. she fails miserably. “just making conversation.”

“i’m still going on visits, trying to narrow down my options. so, you’ll just have to find out with everyone else, bueckers.” jordyn answers. “it’s still uconn for you, though… isn’t it?”

the blonde seems surprised that jordyn remembers that, or perhaps that she cares to ask, eyebrows raising. “signing the papers in november,” she nods, keeping her tone even like she’s trying not to brag, but there’s honestly no way to say you’re already committed to the most iconic program in the history of your sport without sounding a little cocky.

the feeling that rises in jordyn’s chest is… difficult to name, at first. how weird, she thinks, that even a small moment shared with another person can bind you to them for good. all these years later, regardless of everything, she’s still proud of paige.

the other thoughts sneak up on her, uninvited. of the navy blue walls in the olympic training center’s dorms. of paige saying wait ‘til they see us in argentina. of that stupid, impossible hope she’d let herself have. of how badly she’d wanted it, even if she hadn’t known how to say so.

jordyn swallows. the girl sitting across from her suddenly doesn’t look so much like the one she’s spent the past four years hating, anymore.

“paige,” she starts, then stops. her heart is pounding now, loud enough for her to worry that paige can hear it. “thanks for having my back earlier.”

paige pauses, taken slightly aback. “yeah. of course.” she replies sincerely.

jordyn lets out a shaky breath, eyes fixed on the water churning between them. “it was really mature of you and… it meant a lot. i don’t know what i would’ve done if we lost.” she hates the way her voice sounds, all quiet and earnest.

the blonde girl is quiet for a moment too long, letting the words linger in the air. jordyn fumbles, realizing she’s let too much slip. “all i’m saying is that i appreciated it. don’t read too much into it.” her tone is forcibly clipped.

paige finally laughs, the sound low and soft. jordyn wills her eyes up to see the smile on the blonde’s face, and considers sinking down into the water and drowning herself right there, right then.

“don’t worry, i won’t.” paige says.

jordyn clears her throat. “good. ‘cause i’m not letting up any time soon.”

paige smiles then, mischief glinting in her blue eyes. “i hope not. you’re, like, the joker to my batman. can’t have you going soft.”

jordyn’s eyebrows shoot up at that, scoffing. “shut up. if anyone’s the joker, it’s you.” there isn’t any bite in the way she says it, only levity.

“nah, it’s definitely you. you have crazy eyes,” paige counters. “you’ve never had to play against yourself. those bumblebee girls were probably pissing themselves earlier.”

the hidden compliment in that sentence isn’t lost on jordyn. the corners of her lips tug upwards despite herself, protesting, “that’s not true!”

paige leans forward, looking at jordyn curiously, voice teasing, “is that… a smile?”

jordyn’s face continues to betray her, blooming pink. “no.” she says as her lips stretch wider.

the air changes then, warmer in a way that has nothing to do with the water temperature. suddenly, the distance between them doesn’t seem so far anymore. it’d only take her a couple steps to get over there— to get to paige.

without meaning to, jordyn’s gaze slips down to paige’s mouth, lingering there longer than it should, recalling the way her lips had felt pressed against hers all those years ago. unforgettably soft. she can even faintly taste the sweet chapstick paige had worn that day. she finds herself leaning closer, the the bubbles breaking softly around her.

“y’know, before you walked in, i was actually in here waiting for the guys but… i’m glad it was you, jordyn.” paige admits, smile melting into something softer.

something inside jordyn’s chest finally gives.

“yeah?” she asks softly.

paige’s eyes flicker over her face. “yeah.”

it’s such a simple answer, a single syllable, and somehow it’s enough to make the last few feet separating them feel completely unnecessary.

jordyn moves before she can think the better of it. she pushes herself away from the edge of the hot tub, wading slowly through the bubbling water toward paige. the blonde watches her come without saying anything, her teasing smile disappearing altogether. by time jordyn reaches the other side, paige has already shifted slightly to make room for her.

jordyn lowers herself onto the bench beside her. their shoulders nearly touch, and beneath the water, jordyn’s knee brushes against paige’s. neither of them moves away.

they’re so close, now— close enough for jordyn to actually see paige. the way her heart is pounding against her ribs, how her throat bobs as she swallows nervously. there’s no smugness in her expression, no challenge waiting behind her eyes.

and suddenly, jordyn understands that if something is going to happen, paige isn’t going to be the one to make the move. she’s waiting.

jordyn’s heart pounds, too.

before either of them can say anything else, before they get the chance to mess this up again, jordyn leans in, until she’s close enough to see the ring of gold in paige’s blue eyes, until the scent of chlorine gives away to the faint sweetness of her shampoo, until there isn’t any room left for doubt.

then, she kisses her.

it’s soft, barely more than a brush of her lips against paige’s, a question instead of an answer. paige doesn’t move, not even to breathe, her still eyes wide open when jordyn starts to pull back.

she barely makes it an inch away before paige’s hand is flying up out of the water and taking hold of her face, pulling her back in. she slots her mouth back against jordyn’s, tilting her head, immediately surer and deeper than the first. and jordyn melts into it, every ounce of tension she’d been carrying seeming to dissolve into the water around them as she kisses paige back, matching her intensity.

she’d forgotten how good this felt. how naturally they fit together. three years disappear all at once.

jordyn winds her both arms around paige’s neck, just as paige’s other hand finds jordyn’s waist beneath the water, pulling her in until she’s fully seated in her lap, tiny bubbles swirling around them. the hand holding jordyn’s face loosens, instead cupping her cheek gently, her thumb brushing lightly over her warm skin.

“we’re going to get in so much trouble if anyone sees us,” jordyn says, in between kisses, her voice breathy.

“i know,” paige replies, rushing to connect their lips again. “i just don’t wanna let you go.”

jordyn pulls away just enough to get a good look at paige’s face. her lips are swollen pink and her pupils have doubled in size. jordyn could stay like this for hours, just staring at her.

she brushes a damp strand of hair away from paige’s forehead, tucking it behind her ear. the gesture feels vaguely familiar, like it’s something she’s done a hundred times instead of something she’s only imagined. paige’s eyes flutter closed for the briefest moment, leaning almost imperceptibly into jordyn’s touch.

jordyn doesn’t say anything. just closes her eyes when paige tilts her chin up, connecting their lips again, sighing with content.

distantly, a door opens and closes. laughter echoes down the hallway before fading away again. the hotel keeps moving around them.

minutes slip by unnoticed, measured only by the quiet churn of the water and the deepening blue of the night beyond the windows.

when jordyn gets back to her dorm, she she closes the door behind her and immediately presses her back to it, heartbeat thudding in her ears. for a good minute, she doesn’t move. she just stands there in silence, trying— and failing— to slow her breathing.

paige kissed her.

no.

she kissed paige.

the memory comes rushing to her all over again, and before she can stop it, a grin spreads helplessly across her face. she giggles delightedly, the sound bubbling out of her in one quiet, disbelieving breath, and she covers her mouth with her hand like she can somehow shove it back inside.

“well, somebody’s in a good mood.”

jordyn startles, hand dropping from her face as her head snaps to the other side of the room.

caitlin is lying on her bed, wearing her glasses while reading a book. she shifts onto her side so she can properly look at jordyn, setting her book aside.

“you scared the shit out me,” jordyn sighs, but then she’s grinning again like an idiot, unable to help herself or the butterflies in her stomach.

“sorry,” caitlin apologizes, not all that sincerely. “but seriously, what happened? you disappeared after cool–downs. you and paige.”

“nothing,” jordyn tries to lie, pressing her lips together. it doesn’t help; the smile only grows. “i just… had a really good day.”

caitlin narrows her eyes at her, smiling herself. “yeah, okay. i’m not letting you go to bed until you tell me what’s up.”

a moment of loaded silence stretches between them.

then, because she suddenly feels like she’ll burst if she doesn’t tell anyone, she blurts, “we kissed.”

caitlin’s jaw drops. she sits upright, swinging her legs over the side of her bunk. “oh. wow.”

“yeah,” jordyn smiles again, ducking her head. “yeah.”

caitlin stares at her for another second before breaking into a grin of her own. “well?” she presses. “you can’t just say ‘we kissed’ and leave it there. what was it like?”

jordyn pauses. it felt like… something she hadn’t felt before. ever. something she’d been chasing, but had apparently been running in the wrong direction all this time.

the word lands in her mind before she can say it out loud: right. kissing paige felt right.

the realization hits her so hard and suddenly, she forgets that caitlin is in the room for a second.

before this week, jordyn had never so much as thought seriously about kissing someone. that stuff was gross. boys were gross. she didn’t want to date anyone. she’d wait until she was older— surely, by then, it’d click for her like it had already seemed to click for everyone else her age, and she wouldn’t be so off–put by the boys at school that vied for her attention. it’d make sense why even little things, like a like on an instagram post or a moment of prolonged eye contact, made her friends so giddy. the thought of being kissed wouldn’t seem so gross, anymore.

it clicked, earlier in that gym. suddenly, everything made sense, blanks filling in faster than she could understand. all the answers had come to her in the form of paige’s lips, in her laugh, in the feeling of her hand in jordyn’s on the walk back to the dorms.

“…uh, hello? earth to jordyn?”

jordyn blinks back to reality at the sound of the other girl’s voice. “um… it was okay. i guess.” she stammers.

caitlin snorts. “you guess?”

the curly–haired girl swallows. the smile has disappeared from her face without even realizing. “i–i don’t know.”

caitlin shifts on her bed, confusion flickering across her face. “so, you didn’t like it?”

jordyn opens her mouth— then, closes it. her chest feels like it’s constricting all of the sudden, stomach knotting itself into a tight, painful ball. “i don’t know,” she repeats, looking down at the floor.

caitlin nods slowly, trying to understand. to her, the tremble in jordyn’s voice sounds more like regret than it does fear. all of it just sounds messy and confusing. “well… hey,” she says, voice soft, trying to be comforting. “it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. we’re all going home in the morning, and you can forget it even happened.”

“right. yes. exactly,” the lie tastes bitter in jordyn’s mouth, but she swallows it down regardless. her chest loosens, just a little. “i just don’t want her thinking it was, like… serious because it wasn’t. we just got caught up in the moment.”

caitlin nods along supportively. “okay, okay. i get it. so, you don’t like her. not a big deal.”

jordyn nods, too quickly. “yeah. please say anything to anyone.”

“i won’t.” but caitlin’s expression is still uncertain, trying to figure jordyn out.

and jordyn, unraveling and humiliated, doesn’t see it— doesn’t realize what she thinks is protecting herself sounds a lot like: i didn’t mean it. it was a mistake.

after that, they don’t talk much. jordyn changes out of her clothes and into her pyjamas, climbing into her bed on the side of the room opposite from caitlin’s.

caitlin falls into an easy sleep. jordyn isn’t so lucky.

she lies awake long after the light goes out, staring at the dark ceiling above her, replaying the kiss until dawn threatens the edges of the curtains. every time she closes her eyes, she can still feel paige’s hand in hers.

by morning, the story has already begun changing.

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