Beyond The Court

20. Progress

The sounds of sneakers squeaking against the polished gym floor echoed through the halls, mixing with the distant shouts of encouragement as my teammates and I ran drills. Practice was going as well as it could be, given how distracted I'd been lately. My mind kept wandering back to Kesley, and the steady but subtle changes that had been happening between us.

It wasn't like we'd magically fallen back into the old rhythm of things. There was still so much unsaid, so much to work through, but the little things were there—the way she smiled at me now, the way her hand would brush against mine when we walked down the hallway, or the way she would sit with me at lunch, even when her "friends" glared daggers at her from across the cafeteria. They didn't like that she was spending time with me again. I could tell by the way they whispered to each other whenever they saw us together.

Not that I cared. Their opinions had never mattered to me, and Kesley was smart enough to realize that they weren't worth her time either. Still, I couldn't help but notice the shift in her lately. It was like she was finally starting to let go of the façade she'd been clinging to for so long.

After practice, I grabbed my water bottle and sat down on the bleachers, letting the cool metal press against the back of my legs. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, watching as the rest of the team packed up and headed toward the locker rooms. I'd been playing hard, harder than usual. Ever since Kesley came back into my life, I'd felt this restless energy inside of me, like I had something to prove—to myself, to her, to everyone.

I wasn't sure if it was because I wanted to show her that I was still the same Izzi she'd known all those years ago or if it was something deeper. But whatever it was, it was pushing me to give more, to be better. And it wasn't just on the court.

Outside of practice, things were different too. My parents had noticed. My mom, especially. She wasn't subtle about it either. Every time we sat down for dinner, I could feel her watching me with that knowing look in her eyes, like she was waiting for me to explain what had changed.

The truth was, I didn't fully know. I just knew that I felt lighter, like a weight I hadn't even realized I'd been carrying had been lifted off my shoulders. I wasn't "fixed," not by a long shot. There were still days when the old anger and frustration crept up on me, but they weren't as consuming as they had been before. And I knew that had everything to do with Kesley.

It was strange, really. We hadn't even talked about the deeper stuff yet. We were still just feeling things out, testing the waters, seeing if we could rebuild what we'd lost. But even without saying the words, there was this unspoken understanding between us—a connection that had never really gone away, even after all those years apart.

As I sat there on the bleachers, my thoughts drifted to lunch earlier that day. Kesley had come to sit with me again, like she'd been doing every day since we started talking more. Mack had raised an eyebrow at first, clearly not used to seeing us together, but she didn't say anything. Neither did the rest of the team. They all knew better than to question me about my personal life, especially when it came to Kesley.

But I could tell they were curious. It wasn't every day that someone as popular as Kesley ditched her "friends" to sit with a bunch of basketball players. And I could see the way her old group reacted whenever she walked away from them to join me. They didn't like it.

"Hey, you coming?" Mack's voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I looked up to see her standing by the door, her bag slung over her shoulder.

"Yeah, just a sec," I called back, grabbing my stuff and heading toward the locker room.

As we walked, Mack glanced over at me, her expression curious. "So... what's going on with you and Kesley?"

I shot her a look, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"