005.

-----------------------------------------

It began with the bounce of a basketball, followed by the soft pitter patter of the rain. It drips patiently, as if a small warning of what's to come. Unfortunately, warnings cannot be easily understood by a child. Much less a twelve year old girl who had been absolutely fascinated by a few basketball tricks, so much so that even dark clouds and precipitation couldn't stop her. Even if someone had told her that it would be pouring endlessly for the rest of the evening, it wouldn't stop this girl.

For as long as she had a ball in her hands, some concrete, and a hoop, she would remain fierce and insufferable. The clouds could shout and scream at her perpetually and she'd never stop. The rain could slap her harsher, and whip her like she's done something wrong, but it all felt too right. The simple motion of dribbling entranced her, like a silent promise of forever. And you truly can't blame the girl. She's well past the age where she'd notice that rainbows don't last and the sidewalk chalk drawing she'd spent hours on disappears with a quick splash of water.

But basketball? It doesn't vanish or fade. It doesn't let you believe all of your hard work was for nothing. It doesn't make you feel helpless. It doesn't make you feel any of those things.

The girl now idly looks up at the sky, taking in the fresh scent of earth and mud. As if on cue, the rain subsides for a short moment, and in the distance, a flash of light causes the girl to flinch. The girl's lips form a thin line, as she swallows thickly at the view. Then, just as quickly as it left, the rain came back in full force. It was here that she decided that perhaps the hours spent prior to all this was enough. After all, only now does she truly begin to understand how sopping wet she was. Her clothes clinged onto her tightly, while her shoes made small squelching sounds every time she put weight on them. Her hair was making it all even worse, as enough strands had escaped from her ponytail to cover her forehead almost entirely. Water dripped down her face, stopping briefly against the curve of her nose before impatiently falling onto her lips. She licked it subconsciously, the taste of rain cold and rigid against her tongue. She had also felt that her taste buds were telling her to go home, and her shivering body was very attracted to the idea. Sighing to herself, she picks up her basketball, which is in no better condition than her, and turns on her heels to walk back to her house.

She doesn't reach further than five adult steps, though, as another girl around her same age and height sprints towards her. She is wearing a raincoat and rainboots, the self explanatory outfit for the situation they were in. People would be earnestly impressed at how speedy a child could be when they have a clear goal.

She now stands face to face with the other girl who is in a long sleeved t-shirt, shorts, and running shoes. She frowns.

Holding up an identical, more ideal outfit, the runner quickly hands it over to the one that replies to the gesture with a dumbfounded expression on her face. It would have been funny if it weren't for the fact that the runner believed the other was going to die from a serious cold. Before the girl with the basketball could even accept the gifts, the runner shoves the coat against her back and through force, finally gets the girl into proper clothing for the weather. Dragging her away, the runner tells her a multitude of things. It was the childhood equivalent of cursing and berating.

The girl with the basketball simply giggles at the runner. Perhaps she hoped that her light-hearted breaths would soothe furrowed eyebrows, a deep frown, and bothered pupils. They didn't. But it was worth trying.

Because if it meant lifting the crease between her friend's eyebrows and giving her a moment of reassurance, she would have done many things for success. She even thinks to herself, just how fast she'd drop a basketball just not to worry her friend. How, if she'd known she'd drag someone else out in this weather, she'd much rather have stayed inside. Feelings of regret and guilt caused the girl to grip her basketball tighter against her chest.

And it's odd.

This is the thought that bubbles directly from the girl's mind. For a moment the girl wonders if anybody else could see the affection laced in her actions. But who was she kidding? It definitely didn't take a genius to see it.

To see the emotions that lingered in the dead center of her eyes. To see the words that couldn't possibly be formed by a child, yet sat heavily in her mouth. To see the beginning of a question that would haunt this girl for many, many years to come.

But because this girl's vocabulary can only be described as cramped and sparse, the hunger for words grows aggressively in the back of her mind whilst she purses her lips together and smiles. Her resigned silence is a promise in itself, to one day find the words to explain why her throat is clogged and her heart was feeling beyond full.

The day she made this promise, however, was the day she also unknowingly accepted a deal. Something that would shape her inescapable future.

Nevertheless, her eyes were bright and eager.

This was the tale of the girl and the runner.

----------------

Jogging over to the bench, Paige places both hands on her knees as she struggles to catch her breath. Her face glistens with sweat and she watches as small drops fall towards the squeaky clean flooring. The blonde's right hand sleeve instinctively comes up to wipe her chin and forehead in an effort to eliminate the clammy feeling.

As her breathing slowly becomes more steady, she reaches for her water bottle and takes a couple of swigs as she wipes her neck with a towel. She glances at her watch while throwing the towel over her shoulder, biting her lip when she sees that she's been in the gym for nearly three hours already.

Damn. Won't have time to shower before Geno kicks my ass for missing practice.

Sighing to herself, she decides to go on a cooldown walk to the water fountain while she knows she still can. Practice would start in twenty minutes and she didn't want to risk blaming herself later for trying to drink an empty bottle. The sheer disappointment would piss her off.

Yeah and I don't need an entire fucking week of disappointments.

Paige places her bottle under the aerator as she crosses her arms and slumps her shoulders at the recollection of the past week. She stops herself from glaring at the poor wall in front of her, which had nothing to do with her cranky attitude. If she wasn't in such a bad mood, she would honestly feel sorry for herself for being so irritable lately. The blonde wasn't usually the type to let her temper get the best of her, but nowadays it was like she didn't know how to not be grouchy.

It's all because of that bitch. Should've expected it, really. She's always had something to prove, even now.

She picks up her filled bottle, closing the lid as she unknowingly clenches it with knuckled fists. Paige takes uneven steps back towards the gym, being all too conscious of her movements in order to distract herself from fuming.

Pushing the door open with her shoulder, the blonde is immediately greeted by a familiar brunette, sitting down at the bench where her bag was. Due to her being too busy sliding her knee braces on, she jolts up in surprise when Paige reaches behind her to grab her belongings.

"Chill. I'm just grabbing my stuff." Paige says, sounding unusually monotone.

The brunette observes the rigid actions of the other player, how she purposely steers clear of contact. Nika scrunches her nose slightly as she moves out of the way. "Sorry, P."

"Nah, you're good," the blonde replies, avoiding Nika's gaze. She grabs her bag and tosses her towel into the largest pocket, before dropping it a good distance away from the Croatian.

Nika doesn't think of the action as anything too serious, opting to assume that her close friend must have just had a bad workout. So she pays no mind to the blonde as she sits down beside her to re-tie her own shoelaces.

Other players barge into the facility, finding their own spots at various locations around the ginormous practice courts. A lot of them pop by Nika and Paige's area to chat here and there, but most of them seemed to maneuver towards Nika due to the blonde's intimidating posture and constricted features.

Soon enough, everyone was done walking by and left to go tend to themselves at their respective benches. This means that the blonde and the brunette are left alone with a silence that could only be described as loud and deafening.

It was ironic, but it was also true. Both could coexist.

After exactly three minutes of the awkward tension, something seems to finally snap inside of Paige. She turns to Nika, with a resolved look on her face and gritted teeth. The underlying reason for it may have a thing or two to do with the recent events, or perhaps neglected promises. Either way, it leads the blonde to speak her own truths.

"Why are you talking to Revea?" She says, watching the Croatian's features closely as her face hardens at the question.

It's Nika's turn to avoid Paige's eyes as she pretends to still be tying her shoe. She undoes her previous knot to look more occupied at anything but the critical words of her friend. With knitted eyebrows and the intent of deliberate evasion, she answers, "I'm not talking to her."

"BS, Nika," The blonde raises her voice, "You're literally doing everything I told you not to. Are you even trying to keep your promise?"

The Croatian swallows thickly, her palms getting hot amidst Paige's intense glare. She unknots her laces a second time, knowing she made a mistake in the loop. She brings her hands up to her shorts as she tries to rub the humidity off of her hands. All while staring down in shame.

"I'm trying, P. I'm sorry. It's just that it's hard to ignore her when she's everywhere with the team." The brunette tries to reason, a slight pout struggling to be contained.

"It was your choice to be with the team in the first place."

"Am I not supposed to be?" Nika grows defensive.

"You could've been with me. She wouldn't dream of approaching me. Maybe then you wouldn't be so... captivated by her." Paige argues.

"Captivated? I am not-"

Paige cuts her off, "Stop lying, Nika. You were literally gawking at her."

"Paige, she was right beside me!-"

"And I suppose that explains why you two were sharing a goddamn lunch together?"

A moment of silence passes by, due to the Croatian not being able to retaliate the blonde's very valid evidence against her. The accused bites her inner lip, feeling like her friend just shoved the rest of her defenses to the backrooms of her mind. Without her shield, otherwise known as her excuses and her words, she didn't know how to reply.

Paige sighs, fidgeting with the hem of her practice jersey. She takes a moment to recollect her thoughts. The blonde knows the lunch date and Nika having to sit next to Revea wasn't even the brunette's fault, yet here she was, raising her voice at her as if she's committed felonies.

"I'm sorry," They both let out an apology at the same time. There was a slight pause, before small laughs break out between them at the comicality of the situation. It successfully eases some of the tension, giving them a moment of reprieve.

"What are you apologizing for?" The Croatian wrinkles her nose in confusion.

"Nothing. Just wanted to say jinx." Paige smiles mischievously.

"I actually don't like you." Nika points out, playfully rolling her eyes as she shoves Paige away.

"Awww. I know you love me." The blonde lets out another laugh.

"Ewwww."

Another pause.

"Hey, but um.. seriously, Nika," Paige begins, "I'm sorry. I've been in a bad mood since like yesterday, and I've just realized that I shouldn't be taking my anger out on you, of all people. You're my twin, and I guess I'm just scared that..." The blonde's hands tremble as she fidgets, the words in her mouth refusing to arrange themselves.

"Scared of what, P?" Nika leans towards the blonde attentively.

With a deep exhale, Paige places two fingers on the bridge of her nose as she massages it slowly. She was trying not to seethe at the sight of Revea Rosenburg walking into the facility and towards her teammates.

As if she's part of the team, or something, she thinks bitterly.

Paige observes as KK, Aubrey, and Ice drop their things in favor of racing towards the reporter, greeting her with smiles and laughter. The shortest seems to be making some sort of exaggerated gesture towards Revea, while the other two are shaking their heads at the interaction. When the reporter speaks, their eyes seem to light up and they all begin to jump around childishly.

Unbeknownst to even Paige, her eyes are somewhat glistening and reflect melancholy despite her obvious resentment. The blonde scoffs, looking back to the brunette who also seemed to be "observing". It's almost like the Croatian had forgotten about their conversation.

"Nika," She blurts, catching the brunette's attention. "I know you think I'm confusing... o-or maybe even ridiculous, but please, you're the only one that seems to try to listen to me nowadays. Please, Nika," Paige begs, her voice breaking, "trust me when I say that I'm warning you about Revea, not only because I hate her, but because I genuinely don't want you to get hurt."

Nika is caught completely off-guard at Paige's sudden confession, but rushes to reassure the blonde all the same. "P, I didn't know you felt that way," She says somberly, "I'm sorry, I'll try to be better, I didn't realize..."

"It's okay."

The Croatian scoots closer to her friend, placing a hand around her shoulder and letting Paige rest her head on hers. She rubs her shoulder softly, as she whispers words of reassurance into her teammates' ears.

"Please, Nika, I really need someone in my life right now who understands." Paige admits after a few minutes of Nika's embrace, "Honestly, I don't even know what I'm feeling sometimes, I wish..."

"I'm listening, P."

As if on cue, laughter breaks out in front of them. Paige whips her head up, only to see Revea beaming at another one of KK's jokes. She looks so unworried, so carefree. Paige, on the other hand, feels utterly ridiculous for sulking. It wasn't fair.

The blonde's jaw clenches, her eyes darkening. She looks to her side, the sight of Nika Muhl still focused on comforting her friend gives Paige a bit of hope.

So she leans against the Croatian's side, her desire to ramble disappearing. "It's nothin'," Paige waves a hand to gesture her disinterest. "Thanks for hangin' around, Niks." She adds, leaving the rest of her thoughts to fade away.

Here's a small hint: they don't. The thoughts sit in the back of her head, even as practice begins and Geno is yelling at them to either hustle through certain drills or to put more effort in this or that. She may become more focused on shooting the ball or dribbling at times, but her mind continues to lurk around the very same thoughts.

I wish I could forget her.

But I can't.

I chose the tale of the girl and the runner.