𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 , 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐱𝐢𝐢. 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟

paige bueckers

my god i hate victoria hart.

i hate her in every conceivable way. yet she is so addicting it makes me hate her even more. it's something you don't even realise until it happens. not until your eyes linger over their movements as if they were slowed, not until every little jut and shudder they make is noticed. not until every blink and breath it analysed that is when you know.

but the fact i even have come to this realisation makes me want to tear my hair out strand by strand just as self torment. so perhaps some form of pain could shock me out of this hypnosis.

victoria hart?

victoria hart.

no matter how i say it or how different i hear it it all means the same. the same girl i've hated since high school, the same girl i will remain to hate until i die. i despised victoria so much the mere thought of her inflamed my chest, my heart throbbing as the veins pulsed with only that of anger. as every fibre, atom and cells that created me devoted to her despise. my brain only knew hatred when it came victoria, a code that is so deeply wired into the crevices of my mind that it would be impossible to change.

yet how come these past few days have been different. theres a shift between our relationship, the tension seems heightened but not in the way it usually is. theres a sudden tightening tether thats keeping us tied. forcefully dragging us into predicaments we both don't wanna be in.

i can try not to acknowledge it but i can feel it. i know its there. i think about it and ponder on it too much each and every night.

the second i hear her voice all of those feeling start to fade and our feud returns back to its normal ways. but the second we are cleaning the gym or court the whole atmosphere changes. as if there was something clinging to the air, producing a certain aroma in which infiltrates our normal thinking.

i could think of thousands of other possibilities of us having a somewhat civilised relationship other than me actually liking her.

but i remember. then i remember, and remember. and suddenly it doesn't seem like i like her so much anymore.

but as we awkwardly stand on the complete other sides of the court, mopping the floors in complete silence i cannot stand being caught in between my own thoughts any longer. though i don't want to look at victoria either as i know the outcomes to those actions.

i have lost all control in my motions, my eyes automatically scan the room in search for her, only to make sure to avoid her—obviously.

i focus hard on the sounds of my sneaker scuffing the polished floors. the soles of my feet creating an array of squeaks following each step as i push the puddle of soapy water around a small area in a circle over and over again, watching as the mop sloppily moves across the floorboards. i watch the water slowly dry, occupying myself from doing the thing i know i will.

my teeth are gritted tightly as i grind them together, tensing my jaw as it gnaw on the inside of my lip. focusing on the pain more than the urge to turn to my side just to a catch a seconds glimpse of victoria.

i refrain, gripping the mop tighter as my fingers begin to turn white at the aggression in my movements. watching the soap slosh around the newly polished floors finding satisfaction in the small pleasures of cleaning. the severe and confronting smell of chemicals infiltrates my nostrils as i inhale deeply.

it's been 20 minutes and i haven't once lifted my head. i've been walking around the court mopping the floors for so long i've lost track of where i've ended up.

"paige can you pass the cloth please?" victoria pushed her fray strands away from the sides of her face, behind her ear as she pointed towards the bench. pulling down her headphones as she slowly walked towards me. her shoes echoing loudly within the emptiness.