Chapter Text
Azzi had always been quiet. Shy. The kind of girl everyone described as “keeping to herself.” She never liked making friends—especially when those friends were also her competition.
So when she first noticed the blonde girl—thin, loud, always talking—she was sure it wouldn’t be a problem. If anything, it would be easier than she’d expected. There was no way that girl could beat her. Azzi even let out a soft laugh to herself. She’d handle her easily.
That confidence lasted right up until she saw the girl play.
Azzi had never seen anything like it. Not in real life. It was intimidating in a way she wasn’t prepared for. The girl’s confidence wasn’t just for show—she was good. Really good. Better than most of the girls there.
Not better than Azzi, obviously. That would be impossible.
But it didn’t matter.
Azzi was there to make the national team. That was the goal. She’d have to push herself harder than usual, but she would make it. She hadn’t come all that way just to lose—certainly not to her.
The first day went by fast. All drills. Endless training. Basketballs flying across the court. Azzi tried not to get hypnotized by the way the blonde moved, tried not to stare—but somehow, her eyes always found their way back to the same person.
The next day was almost a carbon copy of the first. More drills. More training. Her body still hadn’t recovered, her muscles aching with every movement, while the blonde acted like she hadn’t trained at all the day before. By late afternoon, Azzi’s body was begging for mercy.
She was in the locker room, finishing packing her things, already thinking about her dad picking her up, when one of the girls—Mary—started talking loudly about everyone going out together. Just some “time to hang out” she said. A chance to get to know each other better.
Azzi pretended not to hear. She was exhausted. All she wanted was to collapse into her hotel bed.
That’s when she noticed her.
The blonde girl—walking straight toward her. Sitting down right beside her.
No. Absolutely not.
Azzi tried to play it cool, pretending she wasn’t glancing at her from the corner of her eye. She kept pretending even after the girl turned toward her.
— Hey — she said lightly. — You gonna socialize with the rest of the humans, shy girl?
— No, — Azzi replied. — And I don’t know why you’d say that.
The girl smiled. — Anyone who’s seen you play gets it. That’s not normal. It’s unreal.
She paused. — I’m Paige, by the way.
She rested one hand on Azzi’s shoulder and extended the other.
Azzi’s gaze dropped—first to the hand on her shoulder, then to the one being offered—before finally meeting Paige’s eyes. It felt like way too long before she spoke.
— Azzi.
She shook Paige’s hand briefly, softly, then looked away. The last thing she wanted was to make friends. Especially not with someone like Paige—too confident, too loud, too annoying.
Paige kept talking anyway. About everything and nothing. Azzi barely absorbed any of it, still unsettled by the interaction. Eventually, Paige noticed.
— You listening to me? — she asked, tilting her head. — You’re coming with us, right?
Azzi was ready to say no. Her entire body was screaming for rest.
— I don—
Paige looked at her then, eyes hopeful, almost pleading.
— …Okay, — Azzi sighed. — But I can’t stay long. I just need to talk to my parents.
Paige grinned, clearly trying not to celebrate too loudly, and hurried off to tell the others. Like she hadn’t completely thrown Azzi off balance just moments earlier.
Azzi never went out during training camps—especially not with girls she barely knew. And yet, there she was, texting her parents for permission.
They settled on a karaoke place one of the girls knew. They split into cars, arrived early in the evening, and left around nine since they had training early the next morning.
It was… nice. The girls were easy to be around. They wouldn’t become close, but it was a good distraction.
Azzi and Paige didn’t talk much that night. Azzi couldn’t figure out why she felt so nervous around her.
They ended up singing together once—“Shake It Off.” It was ridiculous, especially when Azzi realized Paige’s singing was worse than hers. They laughed about it for two full songs.
At the end of the night, Azzi’s dad came to pick her up. Paige teased her for it, joking that she was spoiled for not taking an Uber like everyone else.
They said goodbye with a small wave.
That night, lying in bed, Azzi found herself thinking about Paige—about the way she played, about how different she was from anyone she’d met at other camps.
—
The camp passed quickly. Azzi made the national team. She barely spoke to Paige after that. Even though they both made it, Paige kept her distance. Their conversations stayed strictly about basketball.
Nothing personal.
And Azzi wasn’t about to change that. They weren’t friends. They never would be.
—
On the flight home, Azzi’s parents decided they’d visit her grandparents in Minnesota. By pure coincidence—what Azzi initially thought was terrible luck—Paige was heading there too.
Worse than that, she was sitting right next to her.
Azzi braced herself for hours of nonstop talking. But Paige only smiled faintly, dropped her gaze, and scrolled through her phone.
That was unexpected.
At camp, Paige was always loud. Always talking. Now she sat quietly beside her, laughing softly at something on her screen.
Azzi opened her book and started reading, grateful for the silence.
She had just finished the first chapter when Paige put her phone away and turned to her.
— So, — she said. —Why Minnesota?
Azzi glanced at her. Paige was watching her closely.
— My grandparents live there. We’re visiting.
And somehow, the conversation just… kept going.
Paige could still be annoying sometimes, but they had more in common than Azzi expected. Not just basketball—but music, movies, favorite athletes.
By the time the plane landed, they’d already made plans to meet up. Paige had shared several of her playlists with her.
Azzi hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t expected how easy it felt. The nervousness faded, replaced with something calmer, lighter.
And maybe—just maybe—they could be friends.