Beyond the Noise

One.

The squeak of sneakers against polished hardwood echoed through Pauley Pavilion long before the sun had climbed high enough to warm Los Angeles.

Practice had officially started twenty seven minutes ago.

Unofficially?

It had started the second Coach Close walked through those gym doors carrying her clipboard and coffee with an expression that warned everybody that practice wasn't going to be easy.

"Again!" Coach yelled from the sideline.

Gianna Walker caught the pass at the left wing, stepped left, crossed over hard to her right, and split two defenders before floating a pass across the court.

Adrianna didn't even have to look.

She was already there.

The ball landed perfectly in her hands. She took the three.

Swish.

The net barely moved.

Still, Coach blew her whistle.

"Better."

Gia jogged backward with a grin that spread across her face like she had won the lottery.

"I'll take better," she said, "that's basically Coach saying he loves us."

A few of her teammates laughed.

Coach pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I said better, Walker."

"So... not love?"

"I'd like you a whole lot more if you stopped talking."

Gia placed a dramatic hand over her heart.

"Ouch."

The gym erupted in laughter.

Even Coach fought back the corner of a smile before shaking her head.

"You got another joke in you Gia?"

"I've got at least six more."

"I was afraid of that."

Adrianna bumped Gia's shoulder as they went to the next drill.

"You know," she muttered just loud enough for her sister to hear, "one day she's actually gonna make you run for all this."

Gia shrugged.

"Worth it."

"You say that now."

"I'll say it after the suicides too."

"You won't be able to breathe after suicides."

Gia gasped dramatically.

"The disrespect."

The twins dissolved into quiet laughter before settling back into position.

It was always like this.

On campus.

On the court.

On media day.

During interviews.

One of them started a joke.

The other finished it.

People always asked if they could read each others minds.

The answer was no.

They had just spent 20 years learning each other's rhythm.

Coach had clapped once.

"Five on five, starters."