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“Do I look good?” (2024)
Paige decided she looked good the second the blazer went on.
The suit was white, too white probably, she was terrified of falling victim to her clumsiness and making a stain. But, goddamn, it fit her perfectly.
The blazer sat clean on her shoulders, the sleeves tailored just enough to show her watch when she moved. Paige stood in front of the mirror and adjusted the lapels like she was checking herself before a game, chin lifted, confidence slipping on as naturally as the clothes.
She turned slightly, checking her reflection from the side, then back again.
“Be honest,” she said, glancing over her shoulder “Do I look good?”
Azzi didn’t even look up from where she was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, phone in her hand while a stylist hovered nearby pretending not to eavesdrop “Yes.”
Paige waited for a beat “Like… good-good?”
Azzi smiled to herself. She looked up then, eyes flicking over Paige in one slow sweep, not rushing it, not giving her the satisfaction immediately. “Yes, Paige” she repeated, dry. “You look good.”
Paige grinned, she fucking loved hearing that.
There were quiet conversations bouncing between mirrors, and the room smelled faintly of setting spray, the kind of controlled chaos that always came before big nights.
And this was Nika’s big night.
Paige leaned back against the counter, rocking slightly on her heels, hands shoved into her pockets like she was trying not to be obvious about how much she was enjoying herself.
Azzi stood up a few minutes later and disappeared into the bathroom to finish getting ready, leaving Paige alone with her reflection and a couple of stylists who pretended not to notice when she flexed her shoulders again.
Paige was still mid–self-admiration when the door opened.
She looked up without thinking, already expecting Azzi, and her brain stalled out anyway.
Azzi stepped back into the room wearing a two-piece set that looked clean against her frame, cropped just enough to show her abs when she moved. Her hair framed her face neatly, makeup subtle, Azzi truly never needed much.
And, fuck, Paige forgot what she’d been thinking about.
She just stared.
It wasn’t even the outfit, though it didn’t help. It was Azzi’s face. Paige had known her for years and still, sometimes, it caught her off guard.
“Oh my God,” Paige said, before she could stop herself “The princess.”
The words came out loud carelessly and the stylists laughed, amused, the way people laughed when they caught something sweet without context.
“Paige,” Azzi said, eyes flicking briefly to the room. “Stop.”
Paige blinked, the moment catching up to her all at once. Right. Not everyone knew they were together.
Paige held up her hands like she was surrendering, lips twitching. “What? I’m just saying.”
Azzi stepped closer anyway, lowering her voice “Not here.”
Paige nodded, but her eyes didn’t stop moving, didn’t stop tracing the line of Azzi’s shoulders, the way the fabric pulled when she shifted her weight.
The blonde leaned in just enough to keep it between them “Okay,” she said. “But I’m still right.”
Azzi rolled her eyes, but her mouth betrayed her, tugging upward despite herself.
Paige noticed immediately, well, she always did.
“Can you do spin tho?” Paige asked, already smiling wider.
“No”
“Just a little one, bro”
“No, Paige”
“You’re wearing heels,” Paige added, delighted “You’re tall. This is crazy.”
“Paige,” Azzi warned, but there was laughter in her voice now.
She turned away instead, pretending to adjust her jacket in the mirror, but it didn’t help. The smile slipped anyway and her dimples were cutting deep, impossible to hide.
Paige felt something bloom in her chest, satisfied.
She stepped closer, casual as anything, lowering her voice again. “I think,” she said, like she was thinking it through for the first time, “I’m gonna have to keep you on my arm tonight.”
Azzi glanced at her “Why?”
“Because people are gonna be all over you.”
Azzi scoffed, “Shut up. Shut all the way up.”
But she was blushing now, a faint red warming her cheeks, and Paige felt it like a win.
They didn’t talk much on the way out, and as they slid into the backseat of the car with other people, Paige leaned back, one arm stretched along the seat behind Azzi.
She stared out the window for a second, then spoke quietly, like she was sharing a thought she almost hadn’t said.
“You know,” she murmured, “a couple years from now…”
Azzi turned toward her “What?”
“Our wedding day.”
Azzi laughed out loud, and pressed her hand into Paige’s thigh, just enough to make her flinch. Paige jerked, head tipping back, cheeks burning instantly.
“Look at that,” Azzi said, smug now. “You’re so easy”
Paige groaned, but she was smiling, wide and unashamed “Yes, ma’am. I am.”
Azzi shook her head, still laughing quietly, that silent laugh Paige loved, the one that barely made a sound.
“I know. It’s all for you” (2025)
Paige’s draft party was loud in the way it should be.
Music pulsed through the room, and Paige drifted through it all like she always did at parties — half-host, half-participant — checking in on everyone, accepting hugs, grinning until her cheeks hurt.
And still, somehow, she ended up on the floor.
She sat cross-legged near the couch, back against it, a drink balanced loosely in her hand, listening as the girls circled around her in casual conversation.
KK was already laughing, Sarah shaking her head dramatically.
“Bro,” KK said, wiping tears from her eyes, “you cannot dance.”
Paige scoffed, “That’s crazy.”
“It’s not,” Ice said “You’re too white for that.”
Paige opened her mouth to argue, then closed it, considering “Okay, whatever. Azzi is—”
“And don’t even start,” KK added, pointing “Azzi can’t dance either.”
Azzi, sitting nearby on the floor with her legs tucked to the side, lifted her head slowly. “Why am I being dragged into this?”
Paige shrugged. “I was about to say that. She can’t dance and she’s Black.”
“I’m half Black, though” Azzi corrected calmly.
Paige turned toward her then, fully, like the conversation had finally snapped into focus. Azzi was wearing the tiniest dress Paige had ever seen her in, sparkly, catching the light every time she moved. It wasn’t the kind of dress you wore to be practical.
Paige forgot what they were talking about.
“Bro,” Sarah said, snapping her fingers “Are you here?”
Paige blinked “Sorry. I zoned out.”
Azzi smiled, knowing, and the girls groaned.
They circled back to the original point quickly, “I can dance better than you,” Azzi said suddenly, pushing herself to her feet.
Paige laughed. “No, you cannot. I taught you how to dance.”
“You taught me how to griddy,” Azzi shot back. “You did not teach me how to dance.”
KK made a face. “Girl, you can’t dance.I mean you can shake ass—.”
Caroline nodded solemnly. “That’s not dancing.”
“Exactly,” KK said “That’s just… throwing ass.”
Azzi’s face went warm immediately “That is not what we’re talking about.”
Paige laughed too late, too loud, eyes wide like she’d been caught thinking something she wasn’t supposed to.
“I don’t know if I can agree to that,” Paige said, hands up defensively. “Like… it feels weird to confirm that my girlfriend can throw ass.”
The room lost it, and Azzi turned, mortified, and jabbed a finger lightly into Paige’s chest. “This is not sexual,” she said firmly “This is not a thing. Don’t make it weird.”
Paige swallowed, cheeks pink “I didn’t say anything.”
“You thought it,” Caroline said.
Paige didn’t deny it, and Azzi shook her head, laughing, then leaned down and wrapped her arms around Paige’s shoulders, pulling her into a hug that was equal parts affectionate and hiding. Her hand slid up to Paige’s neck, fingers warm against her skin, thumb brushing absentmindedly just below her ear.
The girls groaned again, but this time it was fond.
“You guys are so annoying,” KK said.
Paige leaned into the touch instinctively, heart thudding, the noise of the room fading just enough that all she could really feel was Azzi. How close she was, and easy it was for her to forget everything else when Azzi touched her like that.
She wrapped her arms around Azzi’s waist, chin pressing lightly into her stomach. “You do look really good,” Paige murmured, just for her.
Azzi smiled down at her, soft “I know. It’s all for you”
Paige almost fell to her knees.
“Notice how she is being right” (2026)
Paige hadn’t realized how much she missed Azzi Fudd until she was standing right in front of her.
To be fair, it wasn't so dramatic, not a single moment she could isolate and say this. Paige really missed the small things: the way Azzi adjusted her sunglasses, the way she leaned her weight into one hip when she listened to someone talk and especially the way her hand hovered near Paige’s arm, like muscle memory.
They were on vacation. Technically. And Paige’s WNBA off-season trip never really felt like hers unless she got sunburned in the first two days, felt a little sick after that.
Azzi was doing that thing she did when she was annoyed but still caring over her sunburnt girlfriend. She handed Paige a bottle of water without asking, pressed it into her hand “Drink,” she said, glancing at Paige’s shoulders, which were an angry shade of red.
“I’m fine though,” Paige said, automatically.
Azzi gave her a look “You are most certainly not.”
Paige grinned anyway, because even being scolded softly felt good, when she missed Azzi.
It was later, once everyone had settled into their own conversations and the day had stretched out lazily, that Paige started narrating.
“And here,” she said suddenly, voice dropping, “we observe Azzi Fudd in her natural habitat.”
Azzi turned slowly. “What are you doing?”
Paige gestured vaguely, eyes scanning the scene like she was holding an invisible camera “Notice how she is being right. Once again.”
A few people laughed, and Aaliyah straight up snorted. Azzi frowned, confused more than anything, like she was trying to decide if Paige was joking or unwell.
“Paige,” she said, warning creeping in.
Paige didn’t. “She told her girlfriend to put on sunscreen,” Paige continued, voice steady “Her girlfriend did not listen.”
Azzi sighed “Did you take your medication?”
Paige thought about it. “She asked her girlfriend if she had taken her medication. In fact, her girlfriend had not.”
The laughter this time was louder, and Paige laughed too, sheepish, rubbing at her neck. Azzi shook her head, stepping closer as her fingers brushed Paige’s wrist.
“You are unbelievable,” Azzi muttered, but she still pressed another water bottle into Paige’s hand, still hovered nearby like she wasn’t going anywhere.
Later, in the pool, it happened again. Paige leaned against the edge, chin resting on her arms, eyes following Azzi as she talked to someone else.
“And now,” Paige said, quietly enough to be for Azzi alone, “we see the subject attempting to ignore the narrator”
Azzi splashed water in her direction “You’re so annoying.”
But she was smiling.
It was the subtle smile that lived more in her eyes than her mouth, but Paige saw it anyway. She toned it down after that, just enough to keep it playful without pushing too far, satisfied with her small victory.
Night came softly, and when the room settled into quiet, Paige laid on her stomach, skin still warm from the day, shoulders aching from the sunburns. Azzi sat beside her, bottle of lotion uncapped, hands warm as she worked it carefully into Paige’s skin.
Paige closed her eyes.
“In this final scene,” she murmured, voice lower now, less performative, “the subject demonstrates extreme patience.”
Azzi huffed a quiet laugh “I swear to God, bro.”
She leaned forward and cupped Paige’s face, thumb brushing her cheek, and Paige opened her eyes and smiled.
She didn’t say anything else after that.
“I just needed to touch you” (2028)
Paige was on her second drink when she realized she hadn’t touched Azzi once.
That was a huge problem for her.
New York during Fashion Week was always too loud, and packed shoulder to shoulder with people who looked like they belonged exactly where they were. Paige felt loose, mostly because of the alcohol sitting pleasantly in her chest.
She looked good, she knew that. The oversized blazer sat heavy on her shoulders, the tie loose around her neck, the cropped shirt underneath flashing skin whenever she moved. Low-slung pants, polished shoes. She felt tall and untouchable in the way she only ever felt when she was dressed well and slightly drunk.
And still,her eyes kept searching for Azzi. She found her across the room, exactly where Paige wasn’t.
Azzi stood in a small circle of people, glass in hand, posture calm, listening intently as someone spoke. Blazer, tie, a short skirt that showed too much leg to be legal, or at least too much leg for Paige to look at without wanting to do something about it.
Paige stared.
God, she was gorgeous. Paige watched the way Azzi nodded along, the way she smiled politely at the right moments, the way her hands moved when she spoke. Paige loved her face, fuck, she loved her mouth.
Paige hovered at first, drifting closer under the excuse of conversation, pretending to listen to someone talk about something she didn’t care about. Azzi didn’t notice right away, too gracious. Paige waited a beat longer than she meant to.
Then she gave up on subtlety.
She stepped in close and slid her hands onto Azzi’s waist, fingers settling there like they’d always belonged. She didn’t say anything, just pressed in, chest to Azzi’s back, chin hovering near her shoulder.
Azzi stiffened for half a second before relaxing into it instinctively.
“Paige,” she said, glancing sideways. “Hey.”
Paige hummed in response, she didn’t look at the people Azzi was talking to and didn’t try to join. She just stayed there,
Azzi tried anyway, so she turned slightly and gestured with her free hand. “This is Paige,” she said, introducing her to the group “She—”
Paige nodded once, polite enough, then leaned back in, fingers tightening briefly at Azzi’s waist. She didn’t add anything, and didn’t smile much.
She was past the point of pretending she wanted to socialize.
Someone laughed softly. “Clingy,” they said, teasing.
Paige shrugged, “I just wanna be close to my girlfriend.”
Azzi’s mouth twitched, and she shot Paige a look, but she didn’t move away.
Paige took that as permission.
She shifted closer, rubbing her thumb along Azzi’s side, leaning in like a cat that had decided this was its spot now. Her shoulder brushed Azzi’s arm and her head dipped, hair falling forward just enough to tickle Azzi’s neck.
Azzi finally gave in.
She reached back, wrapped an arm around Paige’s middle, pulled her flush without ceremony. Grounded her with the kind of touch that said “I see you”
Paige inhaled sharply, surprised by how quickly it got to her, and she felt herself go shy all at once, heat rushing to her face, grin breaking out despite her best efforts.
“Okay,” Paige muttered, laughing under her breath. “I just wanted a little attention.”
Azzi smiled, fingers pressing into her side like punctuation.
A few minutes later, Azzi leaned in close and spoke low, breath warm against Paige’s ear “You’re done drinking.”
“What?” Paige protested softly.
“You get like this,” Azzi said, not unkind “Which is fine. But no more drinks.”
Paige laughed, nodding, because she knew Azzi was right.
They slipped away not long after, disappearing down a hallway that felt quieter by comparison,and Paige pressed Azzi back gently against the wall, hands finding her waist again, this time with intention. She kissed her slow, unhurried, like she’d been holding onto it all night.
“I just needed to touch you,” Paige admitted against her mouth, voice low and sincere.
Azzi smiled into the kiss, hands sliding up Paige’s chest, grounding her there.
“I love that about you,” she said.
And Paige believed her.
“We don’t have a dog” (2029)
Paige had wanted a big dog for months.
Not in the “that would be cute” way she mentioned shoes or jackets or furniture. Every time they passed someone walking a large dog, Paige’s head would turn. She didn’t comment every time, sometimes she just watched, thoughtful, hands tucked into her pockets.
Azzi noticed, of course she did.
They were living together now, fully, not the half-measure of overnight bags and spare toothbrushes but real life: shared groceries, shared mess, shared routines that had settled into something comfortable. Their house had started to feel like a place people actually lived in, like Paige’s gym bag permanently half-unzipped on the floor.
Which was exactly why Azzi said no.
“Baby, no,” she said, sitting at the kitchen table, “We travel Paige. A big dog is a lot.”
Paige leaned against the counter, arms crossed, nodding like she was listening, which she was. Mostly. “We could handle it, bro”
Azzi raised an eyebrow “Paige, we can barely handle remembering trash day.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
Paige paused, and thought about it. “This would be fun.”
Azzi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose “Fun is not a plan. And not a reason to get a dog”
Then Azzi listed it out calmly, like she always did when she wanted Paige to understand she wasn’t being unreasonable: Space, Time, Food, Training. And the fact that Paige already forgot to eat breakfast most mornings and relied on Azzi to remind her to take vitamins.
Paige listened all the way through,and didn’t interrupt once. Then she smiled.
That was when Azzi knew she’d lost.
Paige abandoned logic immediately after that. She pivoted so fast it was almost impressive. And if reasoning wasn’t going to work, she’d try something else.
It started a week before Azzi’s birthday, with Paige coming home grinning like she’d committed a crime.
She handed Azzi a large box wrapped poorly in paper that was already tearing at the corners “Happy early birthday.”
Azzi frowned, “My birthday isn’t for another week.”
“I know,” Paige said, vibrating slightly “But I couldn’t wait.”
Azzi sat down on the couch and peeled the paper back carefully, already suspicious
Inside was a stuffed dog. Not a small one, fuck no, a massive fake puppy with floppy ears and soft fur, big enough that when Azzi lifted it out of the box, it flopped dramatically into her lap.
She stared at it., then at Paige.
“Baby,” she said slowly “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?”
Paige beamed “Practice.”
“Practice what, bro”
“Having a big dog.”
Azzi laughed despite herself, sharp and disbelieving. “You’re not fucking real. You bought me a toy?”
“No,” Paige corrected, laughing a little now “I bought us a future.”
Azzi shook her head, laughing harder now, hugging the ridiculous thing just to feel how absurd it was “Paige, I can’t with you.”
But, Paige didn’t stop there.
The next morning, Azzi woke up to Paige pulling on a hoodie quietly, shoes already on.
“What are you doing?” Azzi mumbled, half-asleep.
“Feeding the dog,” Paige said, dead serious.
Azzi squinted at her, “We don’t have a dog.”
Paige shrugged, "We're going to, I’m practicing.”
She came back later with a bag of dog food slung over her shoulder like a trophy, and Azzi stared in disbelief “You bought dog food.”
“Yes.”
“For a dog that does not exist.”
Paige nodded “He will exist though.”
Every morning, Paige woke up early, earlier than she ever woke up for herself. She pretended to feed the fake dog. Fuck, she talked to it and gave it a name. Corrected herself when she almost forgot.
Azzi watched from a distance at first, amused, like she was waiting for the joke to get old.
It didn’t.
Weeks passed and Paige kept it up. Even on days when Azzi wasn’t home to see it. The fake dog stayed by the door, moved occasionally, evidence of Paige’s routine.
Azzi found herself smiling when she caught Paige crouched on the floor, explaining something out loud to a stuffed animal like a crazy person.
“You know,” Azzi said one night, leaning in the doorway, “this is ridiculous”
Paige looked up, smiling, hair a mess “I know.”
“You’re really doing all this.”
“Yeah.”
“To prove me something”
Paige nodded “Yes m’aam”
A month later, Azzi sighed, long and resigned, as she watched Paige carefully refill a bowl that didn’t need filling.
“Okay,” she said.
Paige froze. “Okay what.”
“We can get a dog.”
Paige’s head snapped up “No fucking way. Really?”
Azzi nodded, smiling despite herself. “Really.”
Paige just crossed the room and hugged Azzi so hard it almost knocked the air out of her.
“So handy” (2030)
The light fixture in the hallway had been flickering for weeks.
Enough to be fucking irritating. It would dim for a second when someone walked past, hum faintly when the house went quiet, blink once like it was trying to get attention and then behave itself again. Azzi noticed it every time, and she mentioned it in passing while tying her shoes, while brushing her teeth, and while standing under it with her arms crossed, head tilted back.
“It’s not broken,” she’d say. “It’s just… annoying.”
Paige would nod from wherever she was: on the couch, half-dressed, scrolling on her phone, hair still damp from the shower “I’ll get to it.”
And Azzi didn’t push, she never did with things like this. It wasn’t a big deal, just background noise in the shape of a complaint. And life was busy, Paige was busy, the fixture would still be there tomorrow.
But Paige heard it anyway.
She heard it the way she heard everything Azzi didn’t think she was asking for. She filed it away without comment, let it sit in the back of her mind like a reminder she didn’t want to forget.
Paige liked fixing things, not because she was especially good at it (she wasn’t), but because she liked the feeling afterward, the quiet satisfaction of having made something work the way it was supposed to.
So she waited for an day when Azzi left early.
The house felt different without her. Paige wandered around in socks, a boxer and an old T-shirt, coffee going cold on the counter, staring up at the light fixture like it had personally challenged her.
“Okay,” she muttered to herself “Let’s do this.”
She made a mess almost immediately.
Tools spread across the floor, and a chair dragged into position at an angle that definitely wasn’t safe. Paige stood on it anyway, arms lifted, shirt riding up her back as she reached into the fixture, brow furrowed in concentration.
Her hair was pulled into a loose bun that kept slipping, strands falling into her face no matter how many times she blew them away.
She swore under her breath when something clattered to the floor.
By the time she was done, there was dust on her hands, and the faint smell of something electrical in the air.
Paige stepped down carefully, heart thudding, and flipped the switch.
The light stayed on.
And Paige grinned like she won a match.
She didn’t clean up right away, she wanted Azzi to see it. The blonde stood there for a second longer than necessary, hands on her hips, chest puffed out like she’d just won something important.
Paige showered, sat on the couch and tried to act normal, phone in hand, leg bouncing despite her best efforts. Every sound from the hallway made her look up.
Azzi came home with a jacket slung over her arm, hair pulled back loosely, curls framing her face the way Paige loved most. She kicked off her shoes by the door, distracted, already talking about something that had happened at the gym.
Paige sat up straighter.
“Hey,” Azzi said, passing through the hallway without looking up.
Paige waited.
Nothing.
Azzi kept walking, keys clattering onto the counter, bag dropped on the chair, and she didn’t even glance at the ceiling.
Paige’s smile faded slowly, like she hadn’t noticed it slipping until it was gone.
“Oh,” she said, casual, too casual. “Uh. Did you—did you notice anything?”
Azzi paused, looked around like she was genuinely trying. “Notice what?”
Paige shrugged, suddenly very interested in the thread on the couch cushion “Nothing.”
She felt stupid immediately, like she’d built the moment up too much in her head. Fuck, she’d expected applause for something that didn’t really matter.
Azzi walked back into the hallway then, gaze lifting instinctively. She stopped under the light.
“Oh,” she said, slow “The light’s not flickering.”
Paige nodded, still not looking at her. “Yeah. I fixed it.”
Azzi turned fully, studying her now and Paige stood there in a soft hoodie and sweatpants, hair still damp, hands shoved into the pockets like she was bracing herself.
Azzi smiled “Paige,” she said, voice warm. “That’s amazing.”
Paige looked up.
Azzi crossed the room in a few long steps, cupped Paige’s face in her hands, kissed her soundly on the mouth, dropping her weight in Paige’s lap “You fixed it,” she repeated, smiling wider now “So handy.”
Paige laughed, relief flooding her chest so fast it made her dizzy “I mean,” she said, trying to downplay it even as her grin gave her away, “it was nothing.”
Azzi shook her head, thumbs brushing her cheeks “You’re so cute”
Paige leaned in, and pulled her girlfriend into a kiss.
“I knew your ass was not watching the Wolves” (Maya’s 4th Birthday)
By the time Paige realized something was wrong, the house already smelled like sugar and plastic fucking balloons.
Azzi had been up since early morning, moving through the house with the calm efficiency of someone who finally had time. Streamers hung crooked but intentional along the walls, silver and blue, astronauts with cartoon helmets taped at child-height, planets strung together with thread that sagged in the middle.
The living room had been transformed into something bright and ridiculous, the effort from weeks of planning. Maya’s fourth birthday. Astronauts. The moon taped slightly too high above the doorway.
Paige stood in the middle of it, hands in her pockets, shoulders slightly hunched like she didn’t want to knock anything over.
She looked older now, in a way that had nothing to do with age and everything to do with life settling into her bones. Her hair was shorter, cut just past her shoulders, curling at the ends in a way that made Azzi’s fingers itch to touch it. There were faint lines around her eyes now, not from stress so much as from years of laughing too hard and squinting in bright arenas.
Azzi glanced at her fondly, clipboard abandoned on the counter, hands on her hips as she surveyed the room. Everything was done, everything except—
“So,” she said casually, like she was talking about groceries or traffic. “Do we need to go pick up the cake?”
Paige froze.
It was immediate, her shoulders tightened, her jaw set, eyes darting somewhere that wasn’t Azzi’s face. Azzi saw it before Paige even opened her mouth, the tiny tells, the shifts that came from knowing someone for decades.
“Oh,” Azzi said gently “You forgot the cake.”
Paige’s hands flew up to her head, fingers threading through her hair in frustration. “Fuck,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry. I—baby, I’m so sorry. I completely fucked that up.”
She started pacing immediately, words tumbling over themselves. She explained where she’d been, what she’d been thinking about, how she’d meant to go earlier, how it just slipped, how this was the one thing she was supposed to do.
Azzi didn’t interrupt, she waited until Paige ran out of breath.
“It’s okay,” Azzi said, steady. “The kids aren’t here yet.”
Paige stopped and looked at her.
Azzi stepped closer, resting a hand briefly on Paige’s arm. “We’ll go to the store. We’ll get a cake. We’ll get cupcakes too. It’s fine.”
Paige nodded, still wound tight, still visibly disappointed in herself. “Okay. Okay. Yeah. Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
“No,” Azzi said, already grabbing her keys. “I’ll drive.”
Paige didn’t argue.
The car ride was quiet at first and Paige stared out the window, jaw clenched, replaying the mistake over and over in her head. Azzi watched her in the rearview mirror, saw the slump in her posture, the way her hands fidgeted in her lap.
She remembered this version of Paige well, the one who took failure personally, who felt like she’d let everyone down even when the stakes were small.
So Azzi did what she’d learned worked.
“Did you see the Timberwolves game last night?” she asked lightly, eyes still on the road.
Paige blinked. “What?”
“They’re having a pretty solid season,” Azzi continued. “Defense has been better. The rookie has been more consistent.”
Paige turned toward her, confused “You’re watching the Wolves?”
Azzi shrugged “A little. We live in Minnesota, I might as well”
Paige frowned, then slowly sat up straighter “Oh. I mean, yeah, but their bench rotation is still kind of a mess. Like, if they don’t fix that, they’re not making a real run.”
Azzi nodded, humming thoughtfully “That’s what I was thinking.”
Paige paused. “Wait. You were thinking that?”
And just like that, the spiral loosened its grip.
Paige started talking about matchups, about players she liked, teams she thought would surprise people, predictions that grew more animated with every sentence. Her hands moved now, expressive, familiar. Her voice settled back into that confident cadence Azzi loved, the one that came out when Paige talked about the things she knew best.
Azzi listened, or at least, she listened enough.
They picked out a cake, and cupcakes too. Paige talked the whole time, excitement fully reclaimed, standing too close to Azzi in the bakery aisle, pointing at decorations like it mattered deeply.
In the car afterward? Still talking
Azzi watched her from the driver’s seat, heart warm.
“You know,” she said eventually, pulling into the driveway. “I don’t actually care about men’s basketball”
Paige laughed “I knew your ass was not watching the Wolves”
“I learned it for you, though” Azzi continued “You look really pretty when you smile like that.”
She reached over and poked Paige’s cheek gently.
Paige snorted “You didn’t listen to a single thing I just said, did you?”
Azzi smiled, unashamed. “Absolutely not.”
Paige laughed, full and easy, the last of the tension gone. She leaned over and kissed Azzi’s cheek “That’s my girl”
They carried the cake inside together.