TRANSFER. | PAIGE BUECKERS.

06.

"paige bueckers!" the announcer calls her name for what feels like the trillionth time tonight. she's having an amazing game, one of her bests, almost doubling her average points by the end of the fourth quarter. i shake my pom poms in response to her name. i look around at the other girls, hiding their yawns and looking unimpressed by the girl's efforts. i feel my body shutter as i realize that i used to be one of them. i could never look that way again when watching such a hardworking team, how embarrassing is that?

"nika muhl!" the announcer says. nika's also been having a great night, having more rebounds in this game than any other player out there tonight , including paige. i shake my poms again, my wrist aching from the constant movement. the score is 74- 51. uconn's already celebrating their victory during the last couple minutes of the game.

"paige bueckers!" paige gets another three, and she turns her head to look at me before playing defense. my face turns a bright shade of pink, my teammates all shaking their pom poms with a look of confusion on their faces. i look over at olivia (out of pure curiosity) and she's glaring at me. i just smile back at her. georgia hasn't stop squealing since it happened.

"oh my god!" she laughs, dropping her poms for a second. "troyyyy!" she sings, her hand lifting up in paige's direction.

"will you stop that?" i laugh with her, pushing her hand downs. she won't stop with this high school musical bullshit.

"whatever you say gaybriella" she replies slyly. that's been her nickname for me this game, since gabriella isn't gay and i am. very funny. going back to watching the game. after a couple runs of not scoring and just running the time, the game ends at a 77-55, a big win over auburn. the crowd cheers, and i stand up with the other girls as the fight song plays. a simple 32 count choreography pairs along with it. i watch the teams line up and high five each other, most of the girls going to our locker room, but some stick around. paige looks over at me with a smile on her face. she's still breathing heavy, poor girl.

"i told you" she laughed, "don't touch me though, i'm sweaty right now"

"funny you assume i wanted to touch you" i lie. i absolutely do.

"shut up" she shakes her head, her voice faint as she was still out of breath. looking down at the court for a moment, she speaks again. "so like" she drags it out, pulling up her jersey to wipe the sweat off of her face. "can i see you tonight?"

my body feels warm as i feel her eyes on me. i'm suddenly self conscious, standing up straighter and feeling the urge to suck in my stomach. i care about what she thinks and i kind of hate that, but feeling any negative feelings towards anything she's involved in doesn't feel right, so i tolerate it for now.

"what would we even do?" this time i'm not trying to play hard to get. it's late, and after the press conference it'll be even later. i'm not sure what would be open.

"i was thinking you could spend the night" the words slide out of her mouth with ease, not a stutter nor a shake in her tone. why is it so easy for her? has she done this before? why do i care? my eyes widen at her and she quickly reiterates.

"i have like, a guest room in my apartment" she smiles at me, slowly nodding her head as she spoke. fucking duh sloane. god, i'm so stupid sometimes.

"yeah, sure!" i say, trying to play off how embarrassing that was. i feel so new to this.

"perfect" paige smiles, a camera suddenly panning towards us. an interviewer comes up to paige, i duck away. they talk for a second, the generic "so how do you think you played this game?" and "how will you prepare for the next game?" questions pop up. she answers well, obviously being media trained. they disappear after a few minutes, paige's attention going back to me. "let's leave" she mumbles, leading me by my wrist through the crowd of people. her grip is light but still felt throughout my entire body.