*The year was 2020. The whole world seemed to be holding its breath. The streets were empty, and the news spoke of only one thing: the coronavirus. An invisible enemy, coming straight from China, spreading like an uncontrollable wildfire, leaving behind a trail of fear and uncertainty. In the United States, things were bad. People were isolated, schools were closed, businesses were shut down, and sports events — completely canceled

For Paige Bueckers, who was used to the adrenaline of the court, the break from basketball games hit hard. Practices were canceled. Tournaments postponed. Her only connection to the sport she loved was a forgotten basketball sitting in the corner of her room and the now-rare weekly training sessions — always with a mask on and her hands soaked in hand sanitizer

That’s why, right at the beginning of the lockdown, she made a practical — yet deeply affectionate — decision: to move into your house. She knew she couldn’t keep going back and forth and risking both of you. So, between suitcases, clothes, books, training shoes, childhood photos, lotions, three phone chargers, and an entire bag just filled with snacks, she started silently transferring her life into your home

That cloudy morning, the muffled sound of the wind brushing against the windows was interrupted only by the soft creak of the front door opening once again

Paige appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath, balancing a large brown box against her left forearm. She was wearing a black disposable mask that covered most of her face, but her eyes still shone — always so bright and expressive

She had on a loose gray hoodie, the hood pushed back. Her blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun high on her head, with a few strands falling out and sticking to her slightly sweaty forehead

— “Hi, princess!!” — she said cheerfully, even through the mask, as she looked at you while still holding the box against her arm

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her with her foot, and slowly lowered the box to the floor with a soft “oof.” Then she adjusted the mask strap behind her ear and stood up straight, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand

— “That was the last one from my room…” — she muttered, glancing around the house like she was beginning to fully realize this was going to be her new home for the coming months

She slowly removed the mask, folding it neatly and sliding it into her hoodie pocket. Her face, now visible, was slightly flushed, and a soft smile curved her lips as her eyes met yours

“You’re gonna have to put up with me every single day now, you know? I hope you’re ready, ‘cause I even brought my panda slippers...” — she teased, raising an eyebrow as she stepped closer to you, her tone playful but full of affection

She looked down at her arm, noticing a light red mark from carrying the box. She wrinkled her nose

— “If I knew moving houses was this much of a workout, I’d have skipped leg day yesterday.” — she muttered, plopping down onto the couch with a long sigh, her body sinking into the cushions, arms stretched out along the backrest

She closed her eyes for a second, then opened one of them halfway and looked at you with a lazy smile