Beyond the Basket - Paige Bueckers

part 22 - nowhere to run

Saturday April 5, 2025

Paige POV

I'm sitting in my hotel room, staring out the window at the city, still buzzing from last night. We won, made it to the championship game for the second time since I've been here. For everyone else, it's time to celebrate, but all I can think about is how I need to play better to beat Stanford.

The win over LSU was hard-fought, but it wasn't my best game. There were too many missed shots, too many moments where I wasn't sharp enough. I know that. And with Stanford on the horizon, I can't afford to slip up. That's the team everyone's been talking about all season. They've got height, speed, and experience, but I didn't come to UConn to get close to a championship—I came to win it.

The hotel room is quiet, and my phone's been blowing up with messages from family, friends, teammates. Everyone's buzzing about the win, but I can't shake this restless feeling. I should be feeling on top of the world, right? I should be basking in the glory of our victory. But there's this nagging in the back of my mind, telling me it's not enough yet. Not until we cut down those nets.

I roll the game over in my head, replaying every pass, every shot, every second. Could I have pushed harder? Should I have driven to the basket instead of kicking it out? I'm always overthinking, but I can't help it. This is it. This is the moment I've worked for my entire life, and I can't afford to let anything or anyone get in the way of that focus.

I glance over at my phone and hesitate before picking it up. There's a message from my mom, one from Coach, a bunch from teammates. But I stop when I see Kiera's name, buried in the missed calls and texts. I haven't heard from her in months—not since we broke up, not since I tried to push it all aside and just focus on basketball. I don't even know why I'm looking at her name now, why it's stuck in my head when I should be thinking about Stanford.

But she's there, in the back of my mind, no matter how much I try to shut it down. I wonder if she watched the game last night. She always watched before, always cheered me on from the sidelines, always wore my jersey like it meant everything to her. I shake the thought away. She's not here now, and I have a championship to win. I can't let my mind wander.

Still, it's hard to shake the memories of the coffee shop, the last conversation we had. The look in her eyes when she walked away, when I knew that things were over for good. I had to let her go—I had no choice. Basketball was everything, and it wasn't fair to her to always come second. But I didn't expect it to hurt this much, especially now, when I should be thinking about Stanford, not her.

I push the thoughts aside and stand up, pacing the room, trying to focus on what's next. Stanford's tough, and I know they're coming for us. They want this just as bad as we do. I pull up some game film on my tablet, trying to get my head back in the right place. I've got to be better—more locked in, more aggressive, more of a leader. If I want to win this, if I want to leave UConn with the legacy I came here to build, I've got to be flawless.

The pressure is suffocating, but I thrive on it. This is what I live for—the big moments, the high stakes. I know what's at stake, and I know I can't let my emotions, or anything else, get in the way of that.

I glance at my phone again, staring at Kiera's name. Part of me wants to text her, to ask if she's okay, to see if she watched the game, but I can't let myself go down that road. Not now. There's too much on the line, and I've worked too hard to let anything derail me from this goal.

Stanford's waiting, and I'm not done yet. Not even close.

Kiera POV

I couldn't help it—I needed to get out of Connecticut. The walls felt like they were closing in on me. I thought about heading back to Colorado, but there's nothing for me there anymore. My family pretty much disowned me after they saw the post, cutting ties like I was some stranger, and it's not like I have anything left for me in Connecticut either. The only reason I even transferred here was for the internship, and that's ruined now too.

I can't stay here. I need to leave, even if just for a while. Anywhere but here.

I open a travel app on my phone and start scrolling through last-minute flights. I don't care where they're going—New York, Florida, maybe even the West Coast. All I know is I need to get as far from here as possible. The reminders of everything I've lost, of Paige, of my shattered future, are everywhere, and I can't stand it anymore.

The little spinning icon on my screen loads possible flights. Each one feels like an escape route, a chance to start over, or at least clear my head. I don't even know where I'm running to. I just know I can't stay.

Then I see it—a flight to Tampa. Florida. Warm weather, beaches, and distance. Enough distance to make me forget, even if only for a little while.

The screen loads the details: a flight leaving in just a few hours. Tampa sounds good, like a place where I can disappear for a while, escape everything. I need to get out of this city, away from the constant reminders of my failures. Away from Paige. It doesn't matter if I have a plan—I just need to be anywhere but here.

The hotel room I rented after I left my dorm feels too cold, too empty. I couldn't sleep last night, my mind racing with images of everything that's fallen apart. I try to shut it out—my family's disappointment, my ruined internship, and Paige. Always Paige. I can't stop thinking about her, no matter how hard I try. And I hate it.

I check my wallet and confirm I've got just enough to book the flight. I start throwing clothes into my suitcase—jeans, hoodies, whatever's lying around. I don't even care what I'm packing. It's not about where I'm going or how long I'll stay; it's about leaving. The thought of staying here, surrounded by the ruins of everything I had, makes me sick.

As I zip up my suitcase, my phone dings again, but I ignore it. Another message, another reminder of what I've lost. I don't even bother checking who it's from. I sit on the bed for a second, trying to steady my breathing. Am I really doing this? Running away? It feels impulsive, reckless even, but staying feels like it'll suffocate me.

I glance out the window at the cloudy Connecticut sky, everything so gray and dreary. It mirrors how I feel—lost, directionless, heavy. Maybe Tampa won't fix anything, but at least I'll be somewhere else. Somewhere I can breathe. Running won't solve everything, but I need the space to figure out what comes next.

I pull up the flight one more time, hesitating just for a moment before I hit "book."

A/N - no more sad chapters for a while!!!!

A/N - I thought I was gonna make it sadder but I need to protect my mental state