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“Coach pushes us hard,” Vi says to the school’s news reporter following their team’s loss, “If it looks like she’s crashing out on us, she’s just passionate.”
She always hated these post-game interviews, despite the guilty pleasure of snapping up whatever issue featured the girl’s basketball team on the front cover. They rarely made headlines over the boys’ team unless it was after an underdog, cover-worthy win or a heartbreaking loss. Unfortunately, this interview was of the latter. Weeks after weeks of early morning and later afternoon practices in tandem with punishing drills that even Vi struggled to keep up with; no one on the Midtown Mongooses fathomed losing their first home game of the season.
It was a 1-point game for the majority of the match, but with the team still figuring out their chemistry with the freshmen recruits, it was a lead they fought tooth and nail to keep. By the 4th quarter, they were forced to reach deep into the bench for new blood not yet equipped with the stamina to keep up.
Sevika made the executive decision to bench Vi for the majority of the 4th quarter as the intense defense led to sharper offenses. She knew it was to prevent any possibility for an injury so early into the season. But that didn’t stop Vi from bouncing her knees restlessly for the remainder of the match and begging Sevika to put her back in at every free throw.
With a minute left in the game, the other team had run the score up by 7 points and Sevika had ground her nicotine gum into dust.
“No objections to being benched despite having a clear shot at the win?” the reporter asks. “It feels like this one was winnable.”
“Coach just didn’t wanna see her star player hurt,” Vi says with a wink, “But seriously, our worst case scenario is any of us getting hurt. Coach is confident that if we can stay healthy, we have a shot at the playoffs this year. Besides, we have some promising freshmen this year, and this gave us a chance to find holes in our defense, figure out what artillery we need for better offense.”
The reporter writes something down in her notepad as another student takes a candid photo of her side profile. Across the court by their locker rooms, Sevika’s booming voice demands that they move on.
“Sorry, but just one more thing before you go – off the record,” the reporter asks, tucking away her notepad. She looks up at her under long, bashful lashes and brings her phone up with wavering fingers. “I would’ve asked this another time but you’re impossible to grab – I mean! You’re just always so busy, as the varsity basketball co-captain, and doing cross country and boxing during the off-season, and an honor roll student on top of it all –”
Vi had checked out of the conversation long ago, spotting the direction this was headed a mile away, so she quickly but politely shoots down the proposition.
“Look…I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
“Sarah,” she squeaks.
“Sarah, you’re right, but it’s like you said – I’m just really focused on practice and school right now,” Vi unclips the microphone from her jersey and shoves it in her hand, “Now I gotta’ go before Coach mounts my head up with the championship banners.”
She scurries away before she can deal with the awkward aftermath that always came with shooting someone down, as gentle as she felt she was. She wasn’t lying! At least for the most part. Her junior year was already starting to snowball,
and Vander promised her a new paint job and rims for her truck if she maintained her GPA.
Entering the locker room, she’s met with deafening silence, broken only by the sharp zip of gym bags and the occasional sigh of disappointment.
“Lest and I already gave them my spiel,” Sevika growls in the corner, forearms threatening to burst from the seams of the white button-up she wore for tonight’s game, “Anything you want to add, cap?”
Vi only has half the team’s attention as she steps to the center of the room, the underclassmen still too sore from their loss to even look up from their laps. She claps crisply twice and it snaps every pair of eyes to her.
“Don’t you look down for another second – we fought hard tonight, every second of it, but tonight we take an L. That’s tough, but I know we can do better.” Vi pauses, holding her gaze with every player. She holds up two fingers, “We play Demacia two more times this season. In two weeks on their court, then two more after that, we’re back here. So if you’re hungry for revenge, come fucking starving tomorrow.”
With some divine timing, they hear the muffled cheers of the opposite team through the shared wall to the other locker room and Vi deepens her snarl.
“We can be way louder,” Vi sneers, and raises her fist in front of her, “‘One team’ on three.”
Sevika and the girls gather round, matching Vi’s raised fist and feeling the swell of pride that they can be louder.
“1! 2! 3! ONE TEAM!” bellows from the home team locker room and it garners half of the gym’s attention for a split second.
Powder rolls her eyes from where she’s seated up high in the bleachers with Ekko and her brothers.
“Fuck, now I want Kanes,” Mylo groans as he streches, “You think we can get Vi to go to the drive-thru on the way home?”
“What? Oh, ‘cus it sounded like ‘one love’ – you’ve got like biblical levels of greed, bro,” Claggor chides as he stands, tossing his brother his backpack before shouldering on his own, “She did look like she was in a good mood but that was a pretty bad loss.”
“Vander said he made dinner though,” Powder says. They descend from the bleachers when the majority of the audience has filtered out. She slings the strap of her messenger bag over her shoulder, and fishes around inside for her phone.
“Did we literally not just go there, like, not even 24-hours ago?” Ekko asks, to which Mylo very maturely responds with his tongue stuck out.
“Go where?” Vi asks as she strolls up behind him. She exchanges a handshake into a half embrace with him, and he offers to take her bag for her.
“Fat L, cap’” Powder says impishly, waving her found phone in her sister’s face like a recorder, “Do you think tonight’s loss was because the other team scored more points than you? And also, are you seeing anyone right now?”
She bats her sister’s hand away in annoyance. Vi groans into the cool autumn night as they make their way out of the gymnasium, “Fuck you, seriously. You guys saw all that?”
“Dude, she left the gym bawling,” Mylo mimics the reporter’s sorrow with a hand on his forehead and another over his heart. Vi feels embarrassment crawling around in her stomach until Claggor smacks him upside the head.
“She wasn’t like that, Vi,” Ekko tells her honestly before Vi could start to feel like the biggest asshole in Runeterra, “Teary-eyed, maybe, but we were so far up the stands, we couldn’t really see her face when she left.”
Regardless, it makes Vi pinch the bridge of her nose as she cringes inwardly. She wouldn’t mind the attention so much if it didn’t create a slew of awkward interactions with strangers in the hallways, with the friends of the reject that now want to smite Vi wherever she stood. It was never hard to deflect, laying the blame on school or practice or clubs or work, but how she did it was always a pain point.
There was one person she’d be willing to make time for, though if only she could get her attention.
With their bags thrown in the bed of the truck, Vi climbs into the driver’s seat as the rest of them clamber into the back. She lets Powder and Mylo sit in the bed of the truck only if they promised not to stand while she was on the main road. As they pull out of the parking lot, Vi watches the lights of the school in their rearview slowly shut down, one by one.
The first time Vi formally met the Tyrant of the Midtown basketball team, Coach Sevika, was at the start of her sophomore year. One morning when Vander was dropping off the bunch in the drop off zone early, Sevika gave Vander a hard time about leaving children on campus unattended at such an ungodly hour. When she learned that he had no choice due to his job, she let them stay in the gymnasium until there was someone else to look after them along with the other kids that got taken to school early.
Not that Sevika let them sit around uselessly for that hour though. Vi credits her exceptional dribbling and ball handling to the hundreds of manhours spent polishing off every single ball in the facility closet.
Vi always thought Sevika was careless with her copy of the school facilities’ keys, but it wasn’t until the end of last year’s season, did Vi realize Sevika left it under the same stone near the north entrance on purpose.
She flicks all the lights on, bathing the gymnasium in a bright glow, the logo at center court greeting her with wild eyes and bared teeth. She unlocks the control panel and commands one hoop to unfurl from the ceiling. When she’s sure the doors are locked behind her, she makes her way to that familiar closet to retrieve a dust mop and a rack of basketballs.
Despite the inky black of the closet, however, she can easily make out a slumped, dark form that drapes itself over one of the basketball racks. She jumps back with an horrified shriek, and slaps at the wall to turn the lights on. Something furry reveals itself, and she calms down enough to realize that the indescribable midnight blue mass was nothing more than the body suit of the Midtown Mongoose mascot.
“Janna almighty, what’re you doing in here?” Vi asks the detached head she finds on the ground. The body suit’s fur is slightly damp to the touch, and figures it must have been left to dry overnight.
She gingerly peels the suit off the rack she needed, and drapes it over another, careful to keep it spread out to give it sufficient air flow. The head is plucked from the ground, placed on a nearby desk, and brushed off of any dust it accumulated from sitting on the ground. Vi fondly adjusts the little white beret as she does, tucking the fur back neatly underneath it and combing down its cowlicks with her fingers.
“Need you looking pristine, can’t let the Targon Tigers think they can break our winning streak tonight.”
The head doesn’t say anything back, obviously.
Vi peers outside the closet to sweep the gym and ensure they were alone. She picks the head up then makes it nod back at her, its beady eyes gleaming in the low light.
“You’ve got it, boss!” it says in a mousy voice and an inexplicably Piltovian accent, “They don’t realize they have wide open lanes left of their basket! And you're an ambidextrous dribbler! Yippee!!”
Vi shakes her head and chuckles at herself before placing the head back down. As she trolleys the rack of basketball out with the dust mop in the other hand, she bids her newfound friend goodbye, and shuts the closet behind her.
“Don’t stay in too late,” Sevika snaps at her, equal parts adamant on keeping her gym tidied up, and concerned that Vi was bearing the weight of their latest loss too heavily on her shoulders, “If you or Powder tell me tomorrow morning you hurt yourself because crushed your trachea, I’ll hang you by your feet on the rafters.”
“10-4, Coach,” Vi strains under the bar as she racks it. She sits up from the bench and wipes the sweat from her brow, “No pushing it, I swear. I’ll head home within the hour.”
Coach’s jaw twinges, but she doesn’t say anything more, just waves as she turns the corner to lock up for the night.
Vi huffs as she lays back down, wriggling until she’s centered back under the bar and raising her hands to grip it. She plants her heels into the ground and gives in to the slight arch in her back, then lifts the bar from the rack. Controlling the slow descent to her chest, she lets it rest for a few seconds before thrusting it away, plates jingling brightly as she does.
Last night’s loss was out of their hands. With their center recovering from a scary fall early in the first quarter, Sevika wanted to keep her off to prevent further strain despite her insistence she was fit to play. They were still in the running for a playoff spot, but losing their 6-ft center would hurt their chances of clinching it if she were to be taken out for the season.
So Vi fought hard, so that their center wouldn’t carry both the guilt of getting hurt, and responsibility if they lost because she wasn’t in the game.
She knew every Mongoose play like the back of her hand, and commanded the floor for screens or making opportunities for lanes into the rim. But Bilgewater was big and they were mean, punishing anyone that dared taking a free lay-up.
They stuck to floaters and three-pointers, and it worked for a majority of the game. Bilgewater responded easily however by putting bodies on bodies, shutting down passing lanes and making them fight for the open shots. Vi found herself getting double teamed and with no timeouts left, the game was over with 5-minutes still left on the clock.
It was an angry loss, the kind where they were forced into silence because they didn’t even have anything to respond with. Their center carried it worse though, she had blamed herself for the fall, as if she had eyes behind her head that would’ve caught the other team’s power forward positioned right behind her jumping for a rebound.
Vi had reassured her, even if they had squeaked by on a win, it would have been a 1-point game.
She knew why they lost. For the better half of the game, Violet’s mind was preoccupied by something else entirely.
If she had locked in from the start, the Mongooses would've had a point guard that knew the right play to get around Bilgewater. She would’ve called for more efficient screens, given her shooters more space to work with, or gotten their subbed-center a clearer view of the basket.
She presses the bar again, feeling the overworked triceps burn from the exertion. The rack quivers under the weight as she slams the bar back into it. She knew why they lost, but she knew better than to injure herself trying to make up for it.
It was such a stupid trivial thing to be distracted by. Even Sevika’s shouting, snarling face in hers couldn’t pull her own head out of her ass last night.
The morning of the away game, she had clipped the bumper of a black sedan in the student parking lot. After shooing her siblings away for her minor accident, she did the responsible thing of leaving a sticky note with her number and an apology for the scratched paint.
In a cruel twist of fate, the number that texted her back was one she had already saved: Caitlyn (Calc 2).
No, not Caitlyn B., but Caitlyn K. K as in Kiramman, as in the socialite with her own family crest Kiramman, as in the Kiramman Innovation Building that housed her fucking locker and a sponsor for her homeroom.
K as in the same Kiramman that she’s been harboring her crush on since grade school, that no one – not even Powder – knew about except for the empty husk of the school mascot.
Caitlyn hadn’t responded beyond acknowledging Vi’s text with an emoji, and the guilt of even causing such a minor chip in the car’s paint job had put Vi in a weird spiral all day. She even texted twice while driving to the other school’s gym just to bump the message up in her notifications, to no avail.
Vi exhales slowly but doesn’t sit up from the bench. She reaches for her phone and seeing there still wasn’t even so much as a read receipt from Caitlyn, she presses heels of her palms to her eyes in frustration. What a hell of a way to re-introduce herself in her life after taking one calculus class together in freshman year.
“You’re such an asshole,” Vi grumbles to herself. Caitlyn wasn’t inaccessible, in fact their schedules and classes were such that they had crossed paths several times yesterday and today, so she should’ve just gotten the balls to talk to her in person.
But it felt humiliating to approach the Kiramman heiress for backing her fat ass red truck into her fancy sedan’s front bumper. Hey, math buddy! I know we’ve been going to the same schools since we were like 8, and we basically haven’t spoken since freshman year, but I just hit your brand new car in the student lot. Anyway, sorry and here’s my insurance! Please don’t hate me forever?
Expectedly, the Mongoose in the closet didn’t have any advice when Vi found herself in the facility closet again before heading out for the night.
Every apology that came out of her mouth just didn't sit right on her tongue, let alone if she even had the ability to come face to face with Caitlyn and not make a complete ass of herself.
She couldn’t let herself live with the likely rejection, or worst case scenario, she was to be made out as a total lesbian disaster in front of the entire school.
Maybe Vander would let all of them transfer schools next semester.
Vi scoffs at the mascot head now taunting her with its coy smirk, “Like you wouldn’t also make a complete ass of yourself. I know it in my soul that you’re a dyke, too, Goose.”
“Wowww, okay, fork found in kitchen. At least I know how to use a rearview mirror.”
“...Low blow there.”
“Sorry!” she squawks.
Vi never imagined an early death for herself, but the rate she was getting caught off guard by what should be a familiar figure in the dark by now, she gave herself plus-or-minus 25 more years before something like a heart attack took her out.
“CHRIST.” was the cry from her lips when she spotted the thing laying on the ground in a dead-man pose. It wasn’t uncommon to find it on the floor on game days, prepared for whoever the masked student was to sneak into the room pre-game and don the suit quickly.
Vi had made a beeline for the gym right after her last class concluded with the intention to stretch cold-stiffened muscles before meeting with her coach and the rest of the team for tonight’s debrief.
“You look absolutely haunting,” she said to the lifeless thing.
“You’re not any better yourself, who tied your tie?? A blind hedgehog??”
Vi scoffs, “Daylight savings is bullshit and was the reason why I had one less hour to get myself ready this morning, alright?”
Superstition guides her steps carefully over the costume to retrieve a pair of basketballs and tucks one under each arm. Just behind the rack however, she spots a black backpack along with a neatly folded winter coat and a pair of black, low profile heels. She can hardly conceal her grin.
“Looks like I’m half-right, Goose. Powder’s gonna be so pissed when I tell her you are a 6-ft lesbian.” Then, Vi spots the long tail of a lanyard that leads to a school ID tucked into an opened side pocket. Her curiosity spikes and she has half a mind to take a peek at the front of the ID, to uncover who the mascot is, and also to possibly look into recruiting them onto the basketball team after their center graduates this year.
But, damnit, where would the fun in that be?
She sighs and playfully kicks at the massive toes of the costume with her own. “I’ll let this one stay a mystery, but between us, I think the team could use her height. Pass a message along, will you? Gert’s a senior this year and she’s been damn frantic finding a center to replace her when she’s gone.”
“You talk like she’s passing away.”
“She applied to Zaun U! She’s leaving us!”
“Bro, Zaun’s like a 3-hour drive. Obsessed much?”
Vi huffs and turns her back on it haughtily. Before she shuts the lights and closes the door, she turns her nose back at the thing and glowers, “You know there’s only one girl for me, and she hardly knows I exist.”
Vi watches Ekko twirl her sister around as she laughs maniacally, clutching onto his shoulders the talons of a bird of prey. She smiles softly to herself when she watches Powder try and do the same thing for Ekko, knobby knees she can see quivering even as distant as she was.
She watches as Powder ropes Mylo in, who can pick him up but lacks the coordination to twirl him around efficiently. So he drags Claggor into the fold, and now they’re all taking turns in being spun like he was an amusement ride. Nevermind that all of them would be nearly full-fledged adults by this time next year.
She had removed herself from the dance circle to grab a drink and fresh air. With winter break around the corner, she was eager to take the time off from school and practice for rest and recovery. The Mongooses had clinched a playoff spot that year, but the Winter Circuit Tourney was still ahead, a chance to face off with the top-seeded teams in their division.
As intimidated as she was, she couldn’t shake off the vibration of excitement to play against talented rosters and learn what she could ahead of playoffs.
Powder locks eyes with her from across the room, and waves to her sister to re-join them. So Vi throws back the rest of her punch to heed her call. Just as she finds them again in the crowd, the lights begin to dim and a spotlight casts onto the DJ booth and stage.
“How are we doing Midtown?” this year’s student government president asks, and he’s greeted with a chorus of cheers, “Love to hear it! Listen – before we get into what I know y’all have been waiting for all night–”
“Honestly, I came for the free food, can you believe Kanes sponsored this dance?” Mylo asks with cheeks full of food. Vi steals a fry.
“The Kirammans sponsor like every student event,” Powder steals another fry. When Mylo smacks her hand when she attempts to steal another, she pouts at him until he rolls his eyes and relents.
Vi says casually, “We’re like the only school in our division that gets custom jerseys for every sport every year, and I looked it up once: shit’s not cheap.”
“I wish we had better school colors though,” Powder grimaces, “You know how hard it is to make y’all look good for the school newspaper when it looks like a prison yard pick up game whenever we have home games?”
“--And lastly: thank you to faculty and staff that helped make tonight possible.” the president finally concludes to scattered applause. He then waves to his vice president counterpart standing offstage. As he climbs the steps and crosses the stage, his cane echoes sharply through the gym.
“Hello all,” he says into the microphone. He awkwardly clears his throat as he reaches into his vest then reveals a sealed envelope. “This announcement is beyond my scope. However, Jayce thought it inappropriate to announce himself as this year’s senior homecoming king.”
The crowd chuckles with him and Jayce’s ears pop a shade of pink to rival Vi’s hair, “-- Without further ado, I will start with the junior prince and princess.”
He brandishes a pretentious looking mail cutter taken from Jayce, and cuts open the envelope. He slips one notecard over the other, clears his throat and leans into the mic: “Will Caitlyn Kiramman and Violet please come to the stage?”
If Jayce’s ears were pink, Violet’s entire face was a cherry blossom in full bloom.
Two spotlights cast themselves on her and presumably Caitlyn on opposite sides of the gym. Powder can hardly contain herself next to her, scrambling for her camera to snap photos for the school paper as well as capture what is probably about to be the most mortifying night of her sister’s life. Ekko and her brothers throw her a thumbs up, and because he was an asshole, Mylo blows a shrill wolf whistle. Vi gauges the distance between herself at the nearest exit.
Caitlyn’s spotlight begins to weave itself towards the stage and Vi would only make an ass of herself if she didn’t meet her up there. It’s all a hazy blur to the stage and crossing the short distance to her place next to the podium beside Viktor.
She tries (fails) not to stare at Caitlyn as she follows suit shortly after her, having been stopped by Jayce on her way next to Vi. He says something to her, to which Caitlyn nods at, before she joins Vi.
She hardly even hears who the senior queen ends up being before they’re shuffled off the stage and to the front of the DJ for the Kings-Queens dance.
Vi knows it wouldn’t be a slow song – it was always something more pop-based, nothing meant to imply or force a slow dance. Even with everyone around them joining in on the dancing and mingling, it still felt as though Vi were still under the spotlight. In the worst case scenario, if Vi made an ass of herself, at least no one was paying them any attention.
“So, I heard your team made the playoffs.”
“What? Huh?”
Caitlyn clears her throat and leans a hair closer so Vi could hear her over the music, “I said: I heard the team made the playoffs.”
“Oh. Oh!” Vi says like a dolt. “I didn’t know you were into sports.”
Caitlyn cocks her head at her. “It was mentioned in the school newspaper last week.”
“Ah – right. Sorry,” Vi apologizes, and shoves her useless hands in her pockets. She sees a crowd of students by the refreshments, and suddenly remembers who the fuck she was talking to, “I–I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t involved in, like, the student culture! I just, I mean–”
Caitlyn chuckles and grabs Vi by her shoulder, squeezing gently. “Woah, it’s okay! Seriously. I just wanted to say congrats, I sincerely hope you guys make it all the way this year.”
Vi glances at the banners waving gently overhead, the varsity girls’ banner touting only one championship win since the team’s inception. Coach seemed certain this year would be right up there with it in just three months’ time.
“Thank you, I hope we do, too.”
“You will.” Caitlyn adds reassuringly with a smile, exposing that gap in her front two teeth that Vi had been obsessed with since the 6th grade.
Violet feels a wave of confidence surge in her chest at that and bravely, decides to smile back. Her confidence is shattered however at Caitlyn’s next teasing words: “Didn’t realize the varsity captain was so flappable.”
She stutters and feels steam escape from her collar as she tugs to loosen it.
“No fair! You caught me off guard.”
She fidgets her fingers in her pocket, and nearly flinches when she feels Caitlyn drift slightly closer, hands brushing her biceps. Vi peeks at her face, and despite the low light, she can see that Caitlyn’s cheeks were flushed too.
“Well, if it's alright with you, I would appreciate one dance out of tonight.” Her grip falters slightly when she notices Vi’s hesitancy. “We don’t have to though–”
“No! I mean, no, I do–” Vi grabs Caitlyn’s wrist but quickly realizing she had absolutely no idea what to do with it, recovers by drifting it down to her waist. “I… I would really like that.”
Caitlyn was certainly blushing now, a pleasant red haze colors her face. Vi would be inclined to tease her as payback, but Caitlyn’s hands coming up to her shoulders remind Vi how warm she felt under the rental suit and prayed she wasn’t really as sweaty as she felt underneath it.
The pop music does eventually fade into something softer, gentler. Vi hardly notices it though, not when she had Caitlyn’s hips swaying under her fingerstips and Caitlyn’s hands gently kneading the lapels of her jacket.
All she could see was how nicely Caitlyn had done her hair for the night. Sleek sheets of navy blue, usually tied into a high ponytail, had now framed the soft angles of her jaw and nose. Either the trick of the light or the way she had done her make up that night made her lashes look longer than what Vi was used to seeing. And her lips…
Vi tore her gaze away when she felt Caitlyn stiffen under her grip and she thinks for a brief, mortifying moment, she was caught staring. But her senses return to her, and she realizes the music had simply changed again into something rhythmic, and the hype of the crowd shatters whatever tiny moment they shared.
They separate quickly, and Vi returns her hands into her pocket.
“That was nice.” Vi says in a desperate attempt to keep Caitlyn around. Any excuse to keep her for another minute. She ought to thank her lucky stars, because Caitlyn was just as reluctant to leave.
Caitlyn nods and fiddles with her nails. Vi delightfully notices she had gotten them done in the school colors for tonight.
“Violet…I’ll, um… see you around school?” Caitlyn asks. Fearing she might put her foot in her mouth again, Vi just nods furiously.
She turns on her heel and prays the dim light of the dance hall turned gym hides the pink flare she can feel blossom on her cheeks. But she can’t stop the grin splitting her face into two.
She knows my name!
Vi took upon herself to clean up the closet after the last game of the semester before school releases for winter break, and she had the rare opportunity to reconnect with Goose while she did so. She, of course, relays everything from the winter dance to the familiar furry mascot in the facility closet.
“You’re not gonna get lonely in here over break, are ya?” Vi asks as she re-racks loose cones and hula hoops from gym class. “I’d go insane if I were you.”
“There’s plenty of dust bunnies to keep me company, you don’t need to worry about me!” Goose says from where she sits lifeless tucked between the aluminum lockers that held the off-season jerseys. The way the previous volunteer stored it, it looked a little pitiful with her knees tucked under the head’s chin, and its massive paws hugging its shins. As cheerful as Vi tried to make her voice, Vi had half a mind to take the costume home with her just so it wouldn’t stay in the dark closet all alone for the next two weeks.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’ll miss you.” Vi sighs and she means it. Venting to Goose was the cathartic release she didn’t realize she needed. She really should have invested in a journal and a quality pen, but in a house with an observant father-figure and three nosey siblings, privacy was a non-existent luxury.
“I’ll miss ya too! Tell me if that cute girl ever texts you over break!”
Vi grabs the snout like the words actually came out of the mascot’s head.
“Oh my god you are never nonchalant about anything ever!” Vi says abashedly as she relinquishes the snout. “And she will, I mean, I hope she does. We’re both gonna be super busy, but we text all the time, she wouldn’t just stop because school stops… Right?”
“Right…R-Right!” was Goose’s unconvincing agreement.
Vi sighs. It was going to be hard going two weeks without seeing Caitlyn around at school. Since the winter dance where they were crowned the junior king and queen together, they had spent nearly every lunch period together, and their brief chats in the student lot while waiting for her siblings was becoming her favorite after school activity.
She feels as pitiful as Goose, something just tucked away and remembered occasionally that oh, yeah, that old thing still exists. Shaking her head, Vi gives the closet one last look over, before closing the door to let–
Something – someone – crashes into her, and Vi sees nothing but stars at first. Her nose smarts, and she blinks away the tears that spring in her eyes.
“Ooh fuck that hurts, I’m sor– Caitlyn?”
“Hi! Vi, I was just– I, uh, good game!” Caitlyn stutters. She seems a little winded and her face had a rosey sheen to it. “I mean – I didn’t get to watch it, but the scoreboard says you guys won, and um…”
Vi raises a brow, “What’re you doing on campus so late if you weren’t here watching the game?”
“I was… at practice… for the… varsity…speech… and debate team!”
“Oh! Cool, cool… Wait, didn’t they have a competition in Piltover today?”
“They did? I mean– We did!” Caitlyn says quickly, “Different divisions that my team didn’t qualify for. So Dr. Heimerdinger said we could use his classroom after hours for practice if we wanted.”
“Huh, didn’t know speech and debate was so cutthroat like that, sorry you didn’t make the cut, Cupcake.”
Caitlyn is unfazed by her disqualification, and shrugs indifferently. “Anyways, I’m glad I caught you – I wanted to give you this.”
From behind her back, she produces a small bouquet of flowers. Sunflowers with trimmed stems and its leaves burst from her closed fist, wrapped in pale, brown paper and tied together by a rather thick layer of a pale tan rope.
Vi took the present curiously, rubbing the coarse rope with the pad of her thumb. Sensing her curiosity, Caitlyn explains, “It’s sisal rope. You mentioned your cat’s scratching post was becoming undone and I did some research to figure out what the best substitute for it was and – oh, do you not like it?”
Caitlyn’s voice suddenly becomes incredibly small and Vi’s eyes widen when she sees her take a small step back.
“No! I mean, I love it, Cait, you shouldn’t have, Mishka is going to love it, I swear! He’ll finally stop making a mess out of the couch.” Vi reassures her. She tucks the flowers in her off hand and shoulders on her backpack and gym bag.
“Can I help you with anything?” Caitlyn offers.
“You wanna carry my nasty gym shoe bag?” Vi waggles her brow playfully and Caitlyn rolls her eyes. Vi barks a laugh and hands her the backpack.
As they make their way to the student lot, their pathway is lit only by the streetlamps overhead, the darkness of the winter night already swathing everything in black.
“I really wanted to see you before winter break officially starts,” Caitlyn quietly admits, “I think… I just… I’m gonna miss seeing you.”
“Yeah, me too,” Vi says. They toss her bags in the backseat and Violet invites her to sit in her truck as it warms up. To spend a little more time together before they went their separate ways for the night. She flicks the radio on to the Christmas radio station and they both giggle when the familiar opening melody of Mariah Carey’s voice takes over the radio waves.
The crinkle of the wrapping paper as Caitlyn climbs into the cab reminded Vi of the flowers’ existence. She gingerly places the bouquet into a cupholder, so that they sit upright in the center console between them. She says, “Thank you, for the flowers and replacement rope.”
“Of course. Y’know, I only went into the store with the intention of getting the rope,” Caitlyn pets the leaves and petals fondly as she smiles. “But when I saw them, I thought of you. I just couldn’t help myself.”
Vi was grateful for once that the winter solstice robbed them of any daylight that might expose how red her face must look.
“Well, I’ll be free for most of the break. There’s a mini-camp for basketball and tourney but besides that, I’m not going anywhere out of town,” Vi says, then in a voice with the most bravery she could muster, adds, “Maybe… if you’re also free… we could hang out some time over break?”
Caitlyn flushes too and a shy smile worms its way to her lips.
“I’d really like that, Vi.”
Vi and Caitlyn did indeed text each other non stop during winter break.
Caitlyn had apologized profusely for ignoring her text about the fender bender. Turns out Kiramman was just terribly inept at responding in a timely manner. It was the tiniest scratch and neither of her parents even noticed it anyway so it slipped her mind.
Vi still offered to buff it out for her, still carrying the guilt of being so careless.
Which was how she ended up one chilly evening at the Kiramman Manor for dinner.
Vi rings the doorbell to the manor and is taken aback by how deep it chimes throughout the house. Maybe she ought to have knocked instead, but the door opens almost immediately before she could think about raising her fist.
Meeting Caitlyn’s father eradicates any anxieties blooming in her stomach when they meet on the front porch. He ushers her in from the cold and happily takes her coat. Much to Caitlyn’s chagrin, Tobias was very eager to finally meet the co-captain of the girls’ basketball team that will be leading the Mongooses’ to their first title in decades. Turns out Tobias was a huge fan of the RBA and a die hard fan for the Ionia Wings.
“Caitlyn told me you're quite the floor commander,” he says to her as he leads Vi beyond the mudroom. Caitlyn whispers an apology to her but Vi reassures her that it was fine. “And congratulations again on clinching a playoff spot.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Please, call me Tobias. Make yourself at home, Vi,” he smiles.
Vi follows trepidly behind Caitlyn into the rest of the house. Past the mudroom, the entrance opens up to the foyer, where the grand staircase and hallways lead deeper into the mansion. A massive family portrait greets Vi on the farthest wall, sat just below the family’s crest. The painting was of a younger Tobias with fewer grays, a young Caitlyn in a plain turquoise dress and the muzzle of a rifle in her fist, and a third feminine figure that Vi can only assume is Caitlyn’s mother, standing proudly behind the both of them.
“I will bury you in the gardens if you say one crass thing about it,” Caitlyn warns. Vi smirks but raises her hands in surrender.
“That’s a great idea, Caitlyn,” Tobias says as he pops back into the foyer, “It’s chilly, but there’s time to kill ahead of dinner. Can we show you around the gardens outside?”
“Yeah, that’s cool. I was wondering just how old some of the trees are around the place. They’re huge, so ancient probably.”
He takes advantage of Vi's slight curiosity about the willow trees that grew around the property as an opportunity to show off the other flora that had been passed down for generations. Caitlyn was a little mortified that her father had taken to Vi so quickly, but Vi truthfully hadn't minded in the slightest. She likes that he was just as much of a chatterbox as she was, and was quickly becoming a friendly face.
However, it didn’t take long to realize that the armory paraphernalia around the manor likely didn’t belong to Tobias.
“I hate guns, actually,” he admits as they reenter the manor, taking back Vi and his daughters coats. “But, it’s a lifeline for Cass and our little Sprout–”
“Dad!” Caitlyn cries out as her father ruffles her head affectionately. Vi takes mental note to change the contact name she’s saved for Caitlyn.
Cassandra made her brief appearance from one of the mezzanines above, speaking with one of the house staff. She fills in the blanks of the genetic make-up of Caitlyn’s features – they shared the same steely look that could command a war room, and the same crease in their lips that made their faces unreadable.
She dismisses the staff and glances down at the trio. Tobias waves enthusiastically, which is returned with a small smile and wave.
“Welcome, Violet. I hope my husband hasn’t bored you to death about soil types and hydration.”
“Not at all, ma’am.” Vi replies woodenly. She isn’t offered the same courtesy of calling her by her first name, and the Kiramman matriarch disappears again into one of the many rooms.
When she was able to free Vi from her father, Caitlyn gives her a brief tour of the rest of the house. One hallway was lined with the past portraits of Caitlyn’s ancestors. In a handful of them, Violet saw the literal rise of Piltover and Zaun in the background. They paused in front of the latest portrait, one of Caitlyn’s grandmother with a baby Cassandra nestled between them. Hadn’t the plaque underneath been engraved with the names of the subjects, Violet would have easily mistaken it for Cassandra and Caitlyn.
“Your mom’s genes are strong as hell,” Vi remarks.
“Once when I was younger, my family watched a play about Vladimir, The Crimson Reaper," Caitlyn says, “My own father tricked me into thinking that one of my many great grandmothers was a vampire, hence why she was in so many of these portraits.”
Then, with reddened cheeks, she adds, “For years after that, I could only go down this hallway wearing a blanket like a ghost, so that I could hide underneath it as I passed her portraits.” Vi guffaws.
Their tour ended with them tucked away in the bedroom Vi only saw in the background of their face-calls. They sit in her bed, knee to knee, where Violet becomes intimately familiar with the vast history of air ships, and finally gets to learn the significance behind what all the medals and trophies that lined the shelves above her door (which was cracked open at Cassandra’s request that left both of them bright pink).
“You won all of these yourself?” Vi asks, head careening back to behold the various accolades that lined the wall.
“Every Kiramman was a sharpshooter before she was anything else in her life,” Caitlyn says, and plucks a frame from atop her dresser. It’s a photograph of herself, taken at a recent shooting competition.
“It’s too bad Midtown doesn’t have a fancy shooting team,” Vi takes the photo from her. Caitlyn’s squared shoulders and rigid posture presents an air of unbreakable, admirable concentration. “Doesn’t Piltover High have one? Why didn’t you end up going there? I was surprised to see you in our calc class freshman year.”
“You and my mother both,” Caitlyn chuckles and returns the portrait to its original spot, “But Piltover High is a private school, and stuffed to the brim with privileged snobs that haven’t known a moment of adversity in their entire lives… Besides, all of my friends enrolled at Midtown, and it’s considerably closer.”
Vi can’t help but smile at her, delighted to learn this new fact about her.
Just then, Tobias calls them down for dinner. Caitlyn seems surprised to find her mother already seated, exchanging words with one of the kitchen staff as Tobias helps set the table.
Vi sits next to Caitlyn and nearly bumps her head with Tobias’s elbow as he begins to serve the first course. He explains the dish was a winter salad inspired by the last family vacation to Freljord, with ingredients pulled straight from the garden she got a tour of earlier.
As he prattles on about the next courses, Violet hears Cassandra speak for the third time that evening. She fills in occasionally when her husband asks her something to jog his memory. Violet gets the impression that Cassandra was not one for casual conversation.
At least, until she finds herself sitting across the Kiramman matriarch in the hearthroom, with a tea cup and saucer in her lap as Caitlyn and Tobias cleans up in the kitchen. Nothing but the occasional crackle from the fireplace interrupts the silence between and Vi wants to sink into her chair to escape the invisible tension building between them.
But it seems that Cassandra was filled with surprises that night, because once she polished off her cup, she asks Violet about the basketball program.
Caught off guard, Vi just says, “Uh… Good?”
“I suppose I wasn’t specific enough; is the equipment up to par? Are the court and weight room being well maintained?” Cassandra asks, taking Vi’s cup from her and refilling both their cups, “I personally reviewed Coach Sevika’s portfolio, and she has had great success as a collegiate player. But do you feel that she is competent as a coach?”
Vi answers honestly, and Cassandra listens intently. She seems pleased with all of Vi’s answers, and Violet feels a little less intimidated by her presence.
When the rest of the family joins them for tea time, Violet was content to listen to Tobias go on about his latest experiments with germinating and growing one of Zaun’s native flowers in the greenhouse.
At the end of the night, Caitlyn sees her out to the truck and Violet has half a mind to kick her back inside as she watches the poor girl shiver from underneath the porch light. They likely wouldn’t see each other again until after the holidays between Vi’s own family’s winter solstice plans, and Caitlyn’s plans to see extended family in rural Ionia.
“I’ll call you!” Vi calls out from her rolled down window over the roar of her engine. Caitlyn sacrifices one warmed hand tucked under her pits, to give her a thumbs up.
Vi makes sure Caitlyn’s shut the front door behind her, before pulling out of the driveway, unsure she could ever bring her heart back down from how high it soared that night.
Vi loved playing against teams she knew their team had little chance of winning against. Gert called her a masochist for it, but Sevika fed the competitive flame that brewed inside her.
The winter-tourney went well all things considered. Midtown Mongooses were seeded relatively low due to their earlier seasons’ losses, but they managed to claw their way into the semi finals and end just outside a podium spot. The conditioning Sevika put them through was starting to pay off, and their run at the cup was starting to feel less and less like a pipe dream.
Results of their winter tourney made front headlines in the first edition for the spring semester. The sports columnist was able to spin a very convincing underdog story despite just how crushing their last game went.
She hadn’t even realized the papers would include the results from an off-campus competition, until she saw Caitlyn waving to her in the student lot as she pulled in, brandishing a copy with the headline font so huge Vi could read it from 100-feet away.
She catches Caitlyn in her arms as she runs to her, and wraps her arms tight around her waist. Caitlyn’s arms nearly cut all oxygen running to her head but Vi couldn’t care any less. Vi settles her down gently and Caitlyn excitedly shoves the paper in her face.
“I’m sorry– I read the papers before I read any of your texts, and I’m sorry by the way for not responding, the connection where I was was terrible, and I only just got back home really late last night and–” Caitlyn interrupts herself by pulling Violet into another excitable embrace, “I just wanted to say congratulations!”
Violet takes the paper from her and scans the article, which alongside the fluff about their come-uppance, actually included a handful of diagrams straight from Sevika’s playbook. She was always a fan of how Mel wrote for the sports column, because reading her writing was like reliving a memory. Next to the column were the teams stats for the camp, boasting the team's first competitive double-double, and Vi’s 37-point game during the first round.
“Fourth place doesn’t get you a ribbon,” Vi shrugs and hands her back the copy, making a mental note to get her own paper before they were sold out, “But we played our hearts out. I don’t have any regrets.”
“4th place out of 16 teams is still something to be proud of,” Caitlyn insists, shaking her head. “I just wish I was in town to see at least one game. I’m sure you were amazing.”
Violet blushes at that and hides her burning cheeks by turning her head away. “Yeah, well, you can make it up to me another way.”
Caitlyn stops dead in her tracks a few paces behind Vi and clutches the paper close to her chest, crumpling it slightly in her death grip. She’s pinker than Violet’s hair when their eyes meet.
“O-oh? How so?”
“Come to one of my games. Any of them. We have a few more home games before the playoffs kickoff in Shurima.”
Caitlyn was at a total loss for words. She opens and closes her mouth twice, eyes suddenly unable to meet Violet’s. Finally, she says, “Okay. Okay, yes. I just…”
Violet steps closer to her curiously, taking her hand in her own.
“Look… It’s okay if you don’t, or can’t, come to one–”
“No, it’s not that, Vi. I just…” Caitlyn sighs heavily, “There’s something I need you to know. When is your next game?”
“Next Friday, 6:30.”
“On the Thursday before, be at the gym right after the last bell.”
Vi quirks a brow and smirks at her friend impishly. Caitlyn responds by smacking her cheek lightly with the rolled-up school paper.
“You have to promise not to tell anyone.”
Vi crosses an ‘x’ over her heart, and holds the other hand up in a three-finger salute. “Scout’s honor.”
With that, they cross the threshold onto campus, and Vi tries not to think too hard about what Caitlyn might have to tell her, or how their fingers still remain linked together.
“And then she tells me that I can’t tell anyone. Anyone! You know how scary that sounds?” Vi asks as she paces the facility closet.
“Whatever happened to ‘hi, heyyy, ohmigawsh, it’s been toooo long, how aaare youuu!’” Goose says indignantly from her spot in the corner.
Vi waves a flippant hand, “Yeah, hey, glad someone came in to check on you while we were out on break.”
“Thank you.” she replies conceitedly.
“What the hell does she need to tell me before the game?” Vi demands, waving her arms in the air as if she could pluck the answer from thin air. “Is her mom planning to defund the basketball team? Was that why she was asking me all those questions after dinner? Oh Janna, is she transferring schools?!”
“Neither of those makes any sense – she probably just wants to give you another present, maybe a souvenir from Ionia.”
“But why can’t I tell anyone? Maybe there was a scandal she was involved in and she needs me to help dispel the rumors before the arise,” Vi catches her fist in her hand and squeezes her knuckles, “I can do that, I mean, I got people to stop bullying Powder freshman year by cracking a few skulls together.”
“Coach is going to hit you with her Jeep if you get suspended before playoffs.”
“Covert operation, I’ll just wear you–”
“What.”
“--and they won’t know it was me. There’s no way they can pin anything on me, there’s like 400 juniors, probably almost 1000 students altogether.”
The glint in Goose’s beady eyes make it almost look like she was rolling her eyes, “And no one can possibly pick out the 6-foot athletic co-captain of the basketball team, who has access to the facilities closet outside of the mascot volunteers, as the masked vigilante.”
“Fuck,” Vi swears.
“For real though, what’s the worst thing that she could possibly say? The most realistic thing I can think of is that she just has a little secret she trusts you with.” Goose reasons, “It’s probably got to do with… some dumb… crush…”
Goose trails off, and Vi was met with a worst case scenario she didn’t know how to handle. Something inside her shatters.
She sighs shakily and ambles to the wall she has Goose propped up against. Her back finds the cool surface and she falls to her haunches. In a rare act of sympathy from the universe, her shoulder jostles the head on the way down, making it tip and drop onto her shoulder.
A shaky, wet laugh escapes her lips and Vi wipes away her tears quickly.
It was so absurd to cry over someone she never had to begin with. So why did it still hurt so bad? How was she supposed to face Caitlyn like this?
She dabs her eyes dry with the collar of her shirt, grimacing at the wet fabric now sticking to her neck.
“I should tell her, Goose… This is killing me, and I can’t be her friend like this.” she gestures pathetically at her tear-stained shirt. “And if she wants nothing to do with me after…”
She sniffles and pushes herself to rest on her knees. She readjusts the head, so that it sits upright again, and tucks the paws and costume back into a neat pile.
“At least I’ve got you, buddy…”
Violet was well-accustomed to pressure. It was a trait that made her a good guard, and, some day, a good captain. She had a penchant for making offensive and defensive plays on the fly that generated points and turnovers.
Despite her quick thinking, she found herself frozen to her spot on the court when she found Caitlyn alone, practicing free throws in the empty gym. The slamming of the gym door behind her echoes, and Caitlyn catches her before she could make her last minute escape.
“Vi, you came!” Caitlyn says gleefully. Vi meets her halfway and they share a brief embrace. Vi tries very hard not to hurl into the nearest trash can.
“Of course I did,” Vi says, aloof.
She lets Caitlyn drag her towards the facility closet and Violet tries not to dig her heels too deeply into the court. The door was already unlocked as Caitlyn turns the handle. She pushes Vi inside first and does a scan of the gym to make sure there were no witnesses, before shutting the both of them inside. As an extra precaution, she locks the deadbolt on the door. At least from the inside, Vi can sob as hard as she wants without an audience.
“Thank you for coming, I know you like to watch your film the day before, and I hate to get in front of that,” Caitlyn whispers, as if the metal door and walls weren’t enough to stifle any sound coming from the inside, “But it was really important I let you know this now, because… Are you alright?”
Vi blinks and she belatedly realizes that tears were brimming along her eyelids, one wimpish teardrop already half way down her cheek. She wipes at it furiously and tucks her face in the crook of her elbow.
“Fuck, sorry, yeah I’m okay. There’s also something I needed to tell you. Just…” she exhales shakily, “Just tell me whatever it is you wanted me to know first.”
“Well clearly that’s not important right now. Are you okay, Vi? Did something happen at school?” Caitlyn takes a step closer and reaches to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. The warmth makes Vi flinch and Caitlyn is taken aback.
“I-I’m sorry, I–”
“No, Cait, I–”
For a moment, the skittishness between them breaks the tension between them and neither can hold back chuckling at how they always, somehow, knew right when the other had something to say.
“I’m okay, Cupcake, I promise.” Vi says softly, and reaches back for her hand, gently caressing the back of her fingers. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”
Caitlyn glances at the door again, then at Vi. “You have to really promise not to tell anyone, because if you do, I will shoot you.”
Vi barks a laugh despite herself. “I promise.”
Caitlyn lets go, and goes into a familiar corner of the closet. She lifts up Goose’s head, and puts it on.
“I am the Midtown Mongoose. And is the reason why I'm never at your games; can’t exactly be two places at once.”
All Vi can do is burst into gut-aching laughter. Caitlyn is dumbstruck under the mask and she quickly lifts it off her head to hush Vi as she doubles over.
“I– Holy shit, are you serious?!” Vi cries as she wipes a tear of relief from her eye. She’s halfway to recomposing herself before she suddenly remembers Steb – and the rumor about extra credit being offered for gym class, then doubles over again. “Caitlyn Kiramman, valedictorian of Midtown and junior champion sharpshooter of Piltover, needs extra credit for PE?”
Caitlyn’s face flushes red as she shoves the head into Vi’s laughing figure. Vi receives it with an oof, and cradles it as she rolls onto the floor.
“First of all – we’re juniors, there’s still a handful of us – you included – still in the running for valedictorian. Second, it was because of sharpshooting that I needed the extra credit! I was wrong to think those credits would simply transfer over after summer camp, and well… Will you stand up?!”
Vi’s laughter is immediately cut short when Caitlyn says: “At least I don’t confide all my secrets with the school mascot after hours.”
Vi sits ramrod straight, and she demands, “How do you know about that?”
Caitlyn looks down on her smugly with a hand on her hip, and Vi ignores whatever feeling that stirs within her, and shoots up to her feet.
“I suppose I have another confession,” Caitlyn admits coyly as Vi looms over her. She takes the head back from Vi to tuck back in the corner. “You came into the closet one day before a game. You have very heavy footsteps, you know. I didn’t have time to take it off so I just flattened myself on the ground and hoped you would just come in only briefly.”
Vi racks her brain for that day. “...I saw a backpack in the corner. And heels and the lanyard.”
“I always imagined Matilda having a much more sophisticated voice.” Caitlyn muses with a smirk.
“I think naming her Matilda is arguably worse.”
“What do you call it?”
“Goose.”
Caitlyn raises an unimpressed brow and Vi just shrugs. “I saw the original Top Gun recently.”
“Anyway, your secret is safe with me,” Caitlyn pats her cheek gently, drawing Vi’s eyes to her, “As long as mine is safe with you?”
Caitlyn didn’t even need to ask. “Of course.” Vi tells her.
Satisfied, Caitlyn reaches for her hand again and begins to lead them to the door. As she unlatches the dead bolt, she turns to Vi once more.
“By the way… What was it earlier that you wanted to tell me?”
Vi stiffens and Caitlyn cocks her head at her.
“Ah, shit, well. That’s too many bombshells to put in one place, wouldn’t you say?” when she tries to go for the door, Caitlyn stops her with a palm straight to her solar plexus.
“Not so fast – I’m two for one right now–”
“What? You eavesdropping on my mascot confessionals hardly counts.”
“--what did you want to say earlier?” Caitlyn’s eyes suddenly darken and concern threads her eyebrows together, “Is there someone at school giving you a hard time? I will get my mother to crack down on any prejudice within–”
“No! No, it’s nothing like that…It’s actually…” Vi shifts uneasily and her eyes dart to her feet, feeling like a cornered animal, “It’s, uhm, you. I was talking about… You.”
“What?”
Vi releases a breath she doesn’t realize she’s holding. “I had said you hardly knew I existed–”
“That’s hardly true, your face is plastered all over the sports’ section”
“Right, but I mean–” Vi groans and runs an exasperated hand through her hair, “Before that. That day, in here, I had mentioned that Gert was graduating and that we needed a new center. And I made Goose say something–”
“--she has autonomy, you can say that ‘Goose told you.’” Caitlyn teases and Vi chuckles.
“Goose said,” Vi corrects, “that I was talking about Gert like she was passing away, instead of just going to college. Goose teased me about it... So I said…”
“That there was one girl for me,” Caitlyn finishes quietly, “and she hardly knows I exist.”
Vi nods sagely. Her eyes are still glued to the floor, to her favorite pair of red sneakers and the low profile heels she now recognizes as Caitlyn’s. One heel steps closer, and she feels Caitlyn’s fingers ghost her chin, forcing their eyes to meet.
She wanted to run, to duck under Caitlyn’s gaze and explode out the door. But something had nailed her feet to the ground and for the first time in a long time, Vi felt the pressure weigh her down.
“Violet… I don’t think there was ever a moment I didn’t know you,” she says softly, “Janna, I’ve been trying to get your attention since grade school.”
Vi’s brain short circuits – Caitlyn K., Kiramman, wanted her attention?
She hardly has a moment to digest anything Caitlyn tells her. Caitlyn’s face inches closer, hesitantly, that familiar gapped-teeth bites down on her lower lip. Vi can hardly restrain herself as she leans in, slowly, timidly closing the distance between them.
Her heart feels like it was going to burst from her chest when their lips touch, and she slips her eyes shut as Caitlyn’s arms loop themselves over her shoulders and link behind her neck. Her hand slips to caress the side of Caitlyn’s face, cradling it like a prized relic, as the other finds the gentle curve of her waist.
When they finally part, the jackhammer in her chest falters only slightly, but Vi is still tempted to lean back in.
“I– Shit, the time, Vi, I–” Caitlyn says, but as urgent as she sounds, the grip on her neck doesn’t loosen. Instead, she tucks herself in closer, burying her nose into her neck.
“Can we get dinner together? As a date? A-after the game tomorrow?” Vi asks breathlessly, holding her close. Caitlyn nods furiously.
When they finally part and after Vi ensures the gym was still void of any peering eyes, she sneaks out of the closet with Caitlyn in tow.
They make it to the student lot inconspicuously, campus nearly devoid of all life at this point. Vi spots her siblings in the distance loitering by her truck, but they could bear to wait just a little longer. She glances down at her and Caitlyn’s joined hands. Caitlyn squeezes her gently, meeting her eyes with a smile promising dinner and a future.
She squeezes back, reminding her that this was real. After years of pining, of hoping to just be seen, they were here with their fingers laced together. That pitchy, sassy voice she had given Goose back when she first found it in that dark, dusty closet, was replaced by Caitlyn’s extensive airship knowledge and charming wit that she had come to know and love. As they reached the truck, Vi would happily endure Mylo’s inevitable teasing and Powder’s persistent questioning.
She had never felt more like a champion, than finally winning Caitlyn’s heart.