Tashi should’ve hated you with her entire being, and sometimes she really did, but overall, she thought the rivalry between you both was absolute bullshit.

You two played for the same team, representing Stanford, best friends with tension because everyone wonders which one of you will make it first; but Tashi still couldn’t seem to understand the big fucking deal about it all.

You were good, too good for comfort, a threat to the career she’s built since she first held a racket, but damn did it feel good to treat you like a friend, to shoot back whiskey until you both were either giggling or over-sharing.

And tonight was no different. You had both gotten dressed up after a doubles match, short heels and revealing dresses, two fucking visions that only had eyes for each other.

“Y’know.. you’re so fucking talented, like run for my money type of shit. I like.. I really hate you.. but like.. nah.”

Tashi laughed softly as her lips enclosed around the rim of her drink, watching as you did the same with the one purchased by some asshole in the corner of the bar. She wondered why she couldn’t bring herself to despise you, but then a night like this happened and it made sense again.