Clean Lines, Blurred Rules | KK Arnold
Camila Rivera doesn't break rules. A Puerto Rican junior at UConn, she's got her life perfectly color-coded-literally. Her planner is filled with soft highlighters and deadlines, her MacBook is decorated with minimalist stickers, and her closet is an airy dream of pale yellow cardigans, baby blue sets, and oat-colored cropped jackets. She's clean-girl aesthetic to her core-hair slicked, gold hoops in, lip gloss on. Organized. Quiet. Untouchable.
When she lands a competitive student job as a player liaison assistant in the UConn women's basketball program, she signs the contract without hesitation-especially the clause about no fraternizing with athletes. It doesn't seem like a problem. She's not interested in chaos. She's here to build her resume and get into her dream grad program.
And then KK Arnold walks into the gym-bold, magnetic, impossible to ignore. With her sweat-slicked confidence, sharp tongue, and relentless work ethic, KK doesn't just take over the court-she starts taking up space in Camila's carefully curated life.
At first, Camila tries to stay neutral. She avoids eye contact. She's short in her responses. She reminds herself, She's just another athlete. Don't get involved.
But KK doesn't play by the rules-on the court or off it. She teases Camila for her polished vibe, calls her "sunshine," tugs at the hem of her crewnecks during team stretches, and always finds some excuse to hang around her during media days and scheduling meetings. Until Camila finds herself thinking about the way KK looked at her across the court. The way her hand brushed Camila's lower back. The way she smirked when she said, "You're not really as buttoned-up as you pretend to be, are you?"
Late-night texts. Early-morning glances. Unspoken tension that coils tight in her stomach every time KK stands too close or says her name a little too softly. Camila's clean lines are starting to blur-and she doesn't know how much longer she can keep up the illusion.
