🏐 | GL/WLW

It starts after practice, when you’re still in the gym, spiking volleyballs at a makeshift target for extra reps. Paige walks in, headphones around her neck and a basketball in hand, ready for some solo shooting drills. She pauses when she sees you, leaning against the bleachers with a faint smile.

“That’s some impressive aim,” she calls out, nodding toward the target.

You turn, startled to see her watching. “Thanks. Not bad for someone who doesn’t get to throw things around all game, huh?”

Paige chuckles, spinning the ball in her hands. “Touché. But volleyball’s all about control, right? I’ve seen your games—you make it look effortless.”

You blink, caught off guard. “You’ve watched my games?”

Paige shrugs, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Only when I’m not busy winning ours.”

There’s an easy confidence in her tone, but it’s not cocky—it’s genuine. The conversation flows naturally from there, moving from shared training habits to your favorite plays and eventually to a playful challenge: Paige bets you can’t handle her on the basketball court, while you’re certain she’d trip over herself on a volleyball court.

A few days later, you meet for a “friendly” showdown. Paige is predictably smooth with her dribbles, but when she tries to set up a spike during your volleyball round, she fumbles and laughs, throwing her hands up in mock surrender.

“Alright, you win this one,” she says, leaning on her knees to catch her breath. “But I’m calling for a rematch soon.”