Beyond The Court

1. Best I Can

And that's when you'll know

My heart's not made of gold

Forget the rough parts

The best that I can

And that's when you'll know

My heart's not made of gold

I'll love you the best

The best that I can

***

The crisp autumn air wrapped around the UConn campus, cool and inviting, carrying with it the subtle promise of a new season. It was Paige Bueckers' favorite time of year; when the summer heat finally broke, and the buzz of a fresh academic year was just beginning. For Paige, though, it was more than the excitement of new classes or meeting freshmen; it was the promise of basketball, the chance to return to the court and prove herself all over again. This year felt different, like everything she had worked for was finally within her grasp.

She sat on the edge of a worn wooden bench next to the outdoor court, lacing up her sneakers, the familiar sound of basketballs bouncing in the distance already setting her pulse to the rhythm she knew best. Paige glanced at her watch. She was early, as usual. These morning practices were a ritual for her and her closest teammate—and best friend, though maybe more than just that—Azzi Fudd. They trained together, pushed each other on the court, and lately... well, off the court, things had shifted.

Paige sighed, feeling the familiar tangle of thoughts swirl through her mind as she adjusted her hoodie against the morning chill. It was complicated—she and Azzi hadn't exactly defined what they were, and there was a comfort in the ambiguity. It wasn't like they'd sat down and said, Hey, are we together? No, that wasn't how it worked. Instead, it had happened slowly, naturally, over the past few months, as they spent more time together, their connection deepening in ways that neither of them had fully anticipated or dared to confront.

There had been nights—long, late nights—when they sat together in Azzi's dorm room after practice, legs tangled under the blankets, talking in hushed tones until their heads dipped closer and closer, until kisses came naturally, as if it had always been like that. There had been laughter, moments of quiet intimacy, and more than a few whispered confessions. They had crossed the line into something physical, something real. But neither had wanted to address it directly.

Their teammates knew, of course. Not the details, but they weren't blind to the way Paige and Azzi acted around each other. No one asked questions, though. It was part of the unspoken code of being a team: respect the boundaries, let things happen as they happen.

A familiar voice pulled Paige from her thoughts. "Ready to lose today, Bueckers?" Azzi jogged toward her, that same easy, teasing grin that made Paige's stomach twist in a way she'd tried to ignore too many times to count.

Paige smirked, masking her reaction with ease, "You wish, Fudd. But I'll take it easy on you.. just this once."

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head, but her eyes lingered on Paige a little longer than necessary. Paige felt it, that unspoken connection that always buzzed between them. "Sure," Azzi teased, dropping her bag to the ground and starting her stretches.

Paige watched her for a moment, caught up in that familiar feeling—the one that always seemed to take over when she was around Azzi. She admired Azzi's quiet determination, the way she moved, her focus. And, lately, Paige found it harder and harder to separate the player from the person. It wasn't just Azzi's game that caught her attention anymore. It was everything, the way Azzi smiled after making a good play, the way her hand would brush against Paige's when they walked off the court, the lingering looks in moments when no one else was paying attention.