𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐃? ,𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒

14

—- REAL LIFE, SOCIAL MEDIA

It has been weeks since me and Paige's talk. Since then, not many words have been shared, the awkwardness and longing still lingering in the air. Many sessions of athletic training have happened since, and I find myself hoping each time things go back to normal when I see her. I hope that I'll give her a familiar "Hello," or she will give me a sincere hug with two taps on my back, just like she always did. But it's nothing like that. I don't know how to be normal around her anymore. I just freeze up and self-preserve myself. I'm still afraid of being hurt. She does her best to pretend she doesn't feel it, or notice how jumpy I am around her. She asks me how I am settling down, and I do my best to pretend I am not lying when I tell her I am settling down just fine.

Today was another session, sort-of. It was an open gym today, meaning the basketball girls weren't required to go practice, it was according to their own will. Somehow Avery knew this, telling me Paige was going to be there. How she has this insight, I have absolutely no clue. Avery mentioned there wouldn't be a lot of people there, so I felt grateful for an easy day. This was confirmed when I pushed the gym door open and only happened to see about 6 girls. All of them were scattered on the court, practicing their drills on their own pace. Paige and Azzi took on a dribbling drill, facing each other. I recognized Nika and KK, practicing free-throws and goofing off with each other. Lastly, Aaliyah and Ashlynn were running up and down the court practicing passes. Blake, Avery, Phoebe, Klaire, and Lily-Rose all sat on the bleachers, sprawled out with their laptops sitting on them. I walked over to all of them quietly and sat my stuff down beside Blake.

Her green eyes looked up at me, instantly filled with relief. "Hey Leighton," she said, running her hands through her long dark, wavy hair. She had on a black shirt, light wash jeans, and over-top, a tan and grey plaid jacket. The tan color brought out her dimples.

"Hey, how are you?"

"Better now," she smiled, "Shit, I'm kinda glad they went in and practiced today, I did not feel like working."

I let out a laugh, holding my mouth when I realized how loud it accidentally came out. Blake went on about her recent confrontation with her manager, who I had recently found out hates Blake, causing Blake to push her to the edge everyday thinking it's funny. Of course, her manager doesn't fire her, considering they are low on staff. I looked out on the court while Blake explained how she had been restricted from making cakes, sucking in a breath when I locked eyes with Paige. I think she may have been staring for a while, as Azzi was continuously snapping her fingers. Her mouth had fell agape, her shoulders fell, as her smile lifted. I smiled back, not sure what I had done to get her attention so quickly. I then turned back around to Blake and did my best to ignore the feeling of her staring at me.

All of the basketball girls walked to the AT room, hip-to-hip with their assigned student. However, I walked with Blake, while Paige kept a distance from everyone, staying behind by herself.

"How do you burn cakes, they are so easy to make?!" I laugh, intrigued in the story she was explaining.

"Listen, we had a big order just put in, and Christy," her manager, "-put me in charge of a birthday cake order AND the big order?! There were 4 other people working and you put me in charge of both? So I made the cake, and put it in the oven to bake while I made the 30-something coffees. It took me forever to make them, and it didn't help Christy was bossing me around the whole time! Once I finished them, the smoke alarm starts going off. The cake was literally black." She shows exasperation with her hands. "Then Christy comes stomping over to me and starts yelling at me! She's literally like 4'11, and thinks yelling in my face is doing any good. She can't even reach me. She's all like 'You suck at this' or 'Leave my kitchen,' with her fuck ass bob, I'm tired of her."