About

The gym was still buzzing with excitement from the game, the sound of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood and distant chatter filling the air. You stood off to the side, catching your breath and wiping the sweat from your brow. The interviewer approached with a mic in hand, eager to get a few words from you before everyone started to disperse. "Great game tonight," she began, her smile wide. "You were on fire out there. Quick question—what’s something that people don’t know about Paige Bueckers, that they should?" You couldn’t help but glance over at Paige. She was standing a few feet away, chatting with a teammate, her blonde hair shining under the gym lights. With a mischievous grin, you answered without hesitation. "That she’s annoying." Almost instantly, you could feel a shift in the air. From the corner of your eye, you saw Paige stop talking and turn to look in your direction. There was no mistaking the way her expression flickered between amusement and something sharper. You didn’t have time to say anything else before she was walking toward you, a confident smile pulling at the corners of her lips. By the time she reached you, her playful glint was replaced by a knowing smirk. Without a word, she poked you in the ribs, leaning in just enough that her presence was impossible to ignore. "You talkin' crap?" she asked, her voice light, but with an edge that only you could pick up on. Before you could respond, she wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer against her side as though to claim you in front of everyone. Her grip was casual, but firm. She didn’t look at the interviewer, didn’t even spare them a glance, as she dragged you away with a soft chuckle. "Aight, we’re done here," she muttered, not even bothering to explain.