"boy, she is fucking hot "

- ASPEN ADAMS

THE basketball hoop had been moved when I descended the wooden stairs. I hadn't heard much activity from my new neighbors for the rest of the afternoon and in the morning I received a text from Radenka, asking me to meet up with her for coffee and breakfast at a cafe on campus.

I paused, stopping in my place just in front of the base of the staircase, my mind taking a long moment to process the change. The hoop had stood directly aligned to the stairs, you would see it the moment you walked down. It had been slid exactly two parking spots to the right, and in its place was a parked car, leaving me pondering on when it could've possibly been shifted as I heard barely a faint car alarm going off in the short time I had been here.

"Morning," someone greeted from behind me, and when I turned around, I saw Nika and Paige stepping down from the last steps, carrying duffel bags and dressed in similar tracksuits.

"Good morning," I replied, stepping out of their way as I took out my phone, deciphering the rather chaotic details Radenka had sent me about a driver coming to pick me up.

Paige didn't offer me much other than a bored stare, the earlier friendliness from yesterday gone. If that's what you call it.

"Where you heading, Aspen?" Nika asked, stopping a couple of paces away. I glanced up quickly. "Do you need a ride or something?"

"No thanks, I'm alright. I'm meeting the school's president. Someone's coming to pick me up," I explained casually. "Where are you two heading?"

"Early practice today. Coach's orders," the brunette commented, making a sour face.

"That's rough."

"For real," Paige grumbled.

Nika chuckled. "We better get going, we'll see you later, Aspen." I hummed as I watched them stroll to their car, dumping their stuff in the back before driving off. They passed a dark Subaru as they disappeared around the corner, and the vehicle pulled up in front of me, the engine humming.

"Aspen Adams?" A man called as the window rolled down, and I nodded hesitantly. "I was sent to come pick you up. Hop in!"

I shuffled towards the back door, opening it, and sliding in with a polite smile. "Thank you."

"No problem. Where you heading?" The guy asked, looking at me with a friendly smile. He had wavy brown locks that rolled into his face naturally, with hazy green eyes and tan skin. I showed him the text I had received. "Dog Lane Café? Sweet! I can grab something there too."

He started maneuvering the car to turn around in the long parking lot, driving carefully over speed humps and out onto the main road connecting the apartments to the campus in the valley below whilst humming along to Taylor Swift, which I thought was cool. Who doesn't like a man who enjoys Taylor?

"I'm Emilio, by the way. Where you from, Adams? Can I call you that?" Emilio asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. "People'll start calling you by your last name, just some habit we think is cool."

"Oh...okay. I'm from Seattle, but I moved to New York to attend NYU. You?" I explained, leaning against the window.

"My fam's from Hawaii, but I grew up here with my uncle. Definitely missed a great opportunity, if you know what I mean," the boy joked, chuckling.

"You some sort of taxi driver here?"

"Nah, nah, I'm actually studying communications for companies, believe it or not. This was just a side hustle, get some brownie points from Maric. You're a big deal to them - the folks on the board. I got a pat on the shoulder for this," he admitted with a grin. "That's the most I've gotten in my 4 years here, man."

I nodded, smiling as we relapsed into a period of silence, only the faint sound of singing playing in the background.

"What do you do in New York, anyway? I've always wanted to live there," Emilio asked curiously.

"Everybody says that," I commented, making a face. "I dunno...you work. You study. It's just like any other city, just super overhyped. I think it's noisy and busy, too busy really. I prefer it out here, it's quieter."

"Dude, you wanna, like, swap places?"

"I'm down."

"Bet, bro."

I laughed, shaking my head. "What kind of things do you do around here for fun?"

Emilio thought for a long second. "I mean, you date. That usually keeps people pretty busy. Uhm...sports games. Basketball is always a blast, you gotta go to a game sometime. The girls' team...amazing. And they're hot. But gay."

I hummed to show I recognized his answer.

"Hartford's, like, half an hour away. Usually, kids drive out there or somewhere nearby to get drinks, catch a movie. It's pretty nice," the brunette continued, shrugging as we drove into the campus. The sidewalks were scattered with people, and early risers in hoodies were out for a run or breakfast. "The semester doesn't officially start till Wednesday." I arrived on a Saturday afternoon. "So there aren't as many students. They'll all be back by tomorrow or the day after, though."

"Who's around then?"

"Me...mostly athletes getting some early practice in. Teachers, staff, maybe some students who didn't leave for the entire break."

I nod. Emilio slowed down until he parked across the street from a cute building on the corner of an intersection, painted black with metal tables, seats, and umbrellas outside.

"And we're here."

I hopped out of the car, shutting the door behind me as Emilio and I crossed the street together. "Thanks for the ride," I said, offering the man a smile. "And answering all my questions."

"Nah, it's all good. You're cool." Emilio shrugged, chuckling. "You wanna, like, keep in touch or something? I can drive you around the campus whenever you want. Maybe you can score me some front-row seats to a Nets game sometime. I dunno."

I smiled, nodding. The man handed me his phone, and I punched my number in, sending myself a text and feeling the soft buzz from inside my pocket. "Cool, man," he stated, opening the door for me. I immediately spotted Radenka, sitting at a table in the corner and observing the entrance.

"I gotta go, thanks for the ride," I excused myself, flashing one more friendly smile before walking over to the woman. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Aspen. Sit, sit, we have a lot to talk about."

--

Radenka's car turned the corner, flashing out of sight as I turned to walk up the wooden stairs once more. As I reached my floor, I realized with surprise that Nika and Paige's door was left ajar, a wide crack created from in between the door and frame. Loud noises and sounds of machines and solid objects clashing with one another echoed out of the entrance. Approaching slowly, I peeked inside but saw nobody.

"Hello?" I called, like the absolute dumbass I was. Who would call out if they saw an apartment door ominously cracked open? Me, apparently.

The thick silence continued until I heard a faint crash and what sounded like an argument before footsteps approached. A familiar blonde, whose left cheek was dusted in some sort of white powder, peaked through, immediately opening the door wider when she spotted me.

"Hey, princess," Paige greeted, leaning against the doorframe casually with a smirk. God, that stupid little twitch her lips did when she stifled a laugh, that would be the death of me. "How's your little castle? Meet your standards?"

    "It's perfect, thanks," I responded with a sweet smile.  "You alright in there?"

  "Oh, just uhm...baking mishaps, you know," Paige admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of her neck.  I nodded, staying quiet as she stared at me.  We stood in silence for a moment before she added, "It's for a teacher here.  Their birthday's coming up."

  "Sounds like it's going well," I observed just as a loud clatter rang throughout the room, making the athlete wince.  We continued to look at each other, eyes studying each other as my own trailed the curve of her eyebrows and the perfect nose before I cleared my throat.  "Let me know if you need a fire extinguisher, ace."

  "Yeah...yeah, whatever," Paige mumbled, smirking.  "Princess."

  "Stop calling me that."  I shook my head in annoyance, turning away to approach my own door, inserting the small metal key I received.  As I unlocked my door and stepped inside, I turned back to quickly add, "Oh, you also have flour on your face."

  The last thing I saw was the confused look on Paige's face as she reached up to drag a finger through the content on her skin before I shut the door behind me.

—

Emilio gave me a ride to the gym that afternoon.  We fell into an easy conversation, it was mostly the boy doing the talking but I would smile along as he explained the social aspect to the university.

  "You got the athletes, which usually are the popular ones just because their faces are on TV.  Most of them are bitches, trust.  At least the dudes.  All they care about is how big their dicks are," he explained.  I sat in the passenger's seat this time and laughed as he rolled his eyes.  "Trust me, they're tiny."

  "Friends and groups kinda overlap eventually so everyone knows of almost everyone on campus.  You don't gotta worry about it too much, though, you don't need to be friends with everyone. You got me and them gay basketball girls."

"Are you into any of them?" I teased, nudging him with my elbow as I smirked.

  "I just said they're all gay."

  "Were you?"

  Emilio chuckled.  "You ask a lot of questions, Adams."

  "You give off the impression that you would answer all of them."

"I mean...I gotta say, Nika Mühl was, like, fucking hot for a minute."

  "Boy, she is fucking hot."

"You know the saying, keep your friends close and your old crushes on lesbians closer," Emilio stated with a pained smile.

  "I only ever struggled to find someone who wasn't straight," I commented dryly, making the man chuckle at me though his eyes remained on the road head.

  "Girls?"

  I chuckled, nodding.  "Girls."

  "So...what's your type?" The man wiggled his eyebrows as I looked at him strangely.  "What?  As your unofficial wingman, I need all the shit I can get."

  "That's crazy.  We met this morning, dude," I commented, smirking.  "I dunno, man."

  "Athletes?  I mean, you're literally neighbors with Paige Bueckers and Nika Mühl.  That's gotta be something, man!"

  "Nah...I don't know, really," I answered, shrugging.  "I'm here for school, not to find someone who'll buy me roses and take me on dates.  My agreement with the school is purely business."

  "But your agreement with the hot chicks at the school is purely romantic," Emilio added cheekily, grinning as I rolled my eyes.  "Just gonna slide that last part in, you know what I mean?"

  "You're an idiot, Sinclair," I stated with a scoff as we pulled up in front of the gym.  Emilio flashed me a smile as he unlocked the doors.  "Thanks for the ride."

  "Make sure you get a good look at Paige Bueckers, dude," he advised as I hopped out, scoffing.  "You know how hot you two would look?  She's probably got a line of girls that would kill for her.  Rightfully so."

  "Bye!" I exclaimed, bounding towards the front of the large stadium as I heard Emilio laugh, honking the car's horn before driving off. 

  Pushing through the doors to the gym, I walked through a small carpeted lobby to see a group of girls and Geno standing on the sidelines, by the bleachers where bags were scattered wildly.

  "Aspen!  Right on time," Geno greeted as he spotted me, and I flashed an awkward smile as all the women turned to look at me.  "Come over here, we're just getting started."

  I shuffled to the coach's side, spotting Paige's hot stare and Nika's large, doe-like eyes in the crowd.  Geno smiled down at me warmly, placing a friendly hand on my shoulder and turning to face the team.

  "Girls, this is Aspen.  She's from NYU and will be working with us as a physical and mental therapist for the next four months.  I know what some of you are thinking," Geno explained.  "She's a stranger, how can we trust her?  I hope that you can look at Aspen as another part of this team.  And I don't want to hear any shit about her."  They all nodded, mumbling agreement.  "Aspen, you have anything to add?"

  I glanced up, surprised, and Geno gave me an encouraging nod.  Swallowing anxiously, I looked over the sea of people, mostly unfamiliar faces.  "Uhm, yeah, I'm Aspen.  I don't want to overcomplicate my job too much, uh, the purpose why I'm here.  Just know that I'm someone you can talk to, uhm...not immediately of course, but I'll work hard to prove you can trust me. 

  "I'm basically here to do physical and mental checkups throughout the season, I'm studying psychiatry but also have experience with physical therapy.  If you are injured or just need to talk about some things, uh, yeah, I'm basically here for that."  Clearing my throat awkwardly, I wrapped up with a, "I hope we have a good season."

  Geno nodded, giving me a pat on the shoulder.  "We'll definitely make sure there are some opportunities for all of you to get to know each other, but Aspen will be sitting in on most of our practices.  During the season, if you need to speak with her, she'll be at those and the games as well.  But we're glad to have you here, Aspen."

  "Thanks for having me," I mumbled, fiddling with my fingers anxiously.  Kill me now.

  Geno had the girls run off to begin to warm up, pulling me aside.  "I know this is a big change.  If it's ever too much, you are welcome to have the day off or take a step back whenever.  I know it's a lot to be thrown into this immediately.  And if the girls are messing with you, talk to me"

  "Thanks, sir," I answered politely.  "I may just need time to adjust, but then I should be okay."

  "Good.  Radenka and I have been discussing what you will be doing, as your role on this team is a therapist, both physical and mental.  We have decided...here's the paper."  I was handed a simple sheet of paper with a list of information in a basic black font printed in the center.

  "We have a special assignment.  Paige Bueckers, you've met her already, she's currently out from injury, tore her ACL.  You will be in charge of her recovery, both mentally and physically.  That means one-on-one training, conversations, tracking her improvement and recovery, and regular check-ups.  You two can talk it over, whatever ideas or techniques you want to use, you'll be in charge of her.  On the paper is all the information you'll need.  Age, height, details on the injury, and background information."

  "Oh, okay, cool," I mumbled, glancing over the paper.  I tried my best to push down the irritation I felt with working with the blonde, who I found to be unserious, distant, and constantly challenging me, things I couldn't work well with.  I was about to ask if there was anything else I would have to do when Geno added, "I'm not finished yet."

  "Special practice for Paige will be needed, but she will also attend mandatory team practice every afternoon except for Fridays.  You will also be supervising with me during practice, sort of my junior coach, and you'll basically be a fresh pair of eyes.  You'll check in with the girls, report on injuries, or anything like that.  Your main goal is Paige, and working with her to get better, but you should also have solid relationships with the other girls.  Got it?"

  "I think so," I answered, scribbling the gist of what my job was on the corner of the page with the stray pen I happened to be carrying in my pocket, most likely fished out from my bag on the plane ride when I was wrapping up some assignments.  "Paige's recovery plan...it's entirely up to me?  Like, there's nothing, no workouts or anything I have to have in the schedule?"

  "It's your job to gauge where she is physically, and then you two will be able to create a suitable workout plan for her.  In terms of mental work, don't stress too much.  Paige is super laid-back, proposing a conversation over coffee is fine.  If she doesn't ask before you do, that is.  Should I call her over?" Feeling obligated to agree, I nodded slowly and observed the man gesturing towards the woman who was standing in the corner engaged in conversation with one of the girls.

  I watched as Paige quickly jogged over and flashed a friendly smile to the man.  "Wassup, Coach?" She asked, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her gym shorts casually.

  "I just explained to Aspen that you'll be working together a lot on your recovery plan," Geno explained, smiling at the two of us.  "I'll give you some time to sort everything out.  If you want to talk it all over right now, go for it."

  With that, the man walked away, shouting for the girls to move on to scrimmages as he grabbed a handful of colorful shirts and tossed them around, hands reaching out to grab them before they touched the wooden floor.  The friendliness quickly fell from Paige's face as she turned to glance at me with a blank look.

  "Guess we're buddies, princess," she stated emotionlessly, tilting her head as I turned to look at her.  "You got a master plan on how to get me healed up?"

  "I told you to stop calling me that," I snapped, clenching my fists as I glared at the woman.

  "What're you gonna do about it, huh?  Throw a fit?  Tell on me?"

I clenched my jaw tightly, swallowing down the string of comments I was about to unleash on the athlete for the sake of Geno and Radenka, who had worked hard to get me here and had shown me nothing but support

  Breathing in slowly, I grinded out, "Listen, Bueckers.  We don't gotta be friends, fact is, I think we can agree we don't want to be.  But we're in each other's lives for the next four months whether we like it or not.  We're fucking adults so let's act like them, okay?"

  The blonde opened her mouth to respond before thinking of something better.  "Aight, fine, fine, I get it.  I see your point, alright.  We're not friends, though."

  "Nope."

  "We don't know each other outside of this shit."

  "Yup."

  "Good."

  We held each other's gaze, hers challenging while mine was fiery.  I found Paige to be irritating, and I knew she found me to be similar to it as well.  At least we can agree that we hate each other's guts.

  Frankie said that there was a thing called sexual tension.  And that Paige and I had enough to make anyone uncomfortable in our presence.  As strangers.

I made it very clear Paige Bueckers and I had no sexual anything whatsoever.

  Her unserious, almost blithe, indifferent attitude towards matters that you should hold some sort of seriousness, frustrated me to no end.  She challenged me in ways I could not describe and there was no way in hell that I was losing to her at anything.

  I didn't know what she wanted from me, why her small comments made my stomach burn with annoyance, or how I would unconsciously tense up like an animal about to strike back whenever she would challenge me with that electric stare and toothy smirk.

  Something about Paige Bueckers bothered me.  Something strong enough to fan the flames of cold irritation that bloomed in my chest and burned through the papers of sensible thoughts in my mind.

M'S SPACE:

guys