Chapter 2

The July air in Storrs felt different than home.

Isadora Ramirez noticed it the second she stepped out of the airport doors, thicker somehow, quieter, like everything was holding its breath. Or maybe that was just her.

She shifted her duffel higher on her shoulder, phone clutched in her hand, rereading the last text she’d gotten.

KK Arnold

We’re outside!! Don’t make us wait too long; we’re very important people.

A small, involuntary smile tugged at her mouth. It faded just as quickly.

This was real. She was here.

UConn.

The place she had talked about since she was ten years old, sitting cross-legged on cracked pavement with a ball between her legs, mapping out futures like they were already guaranteed.

Isadora swallowed hard and stepped forward.

A horn blared.

“Isa!”

Her head snapped up just in time to see a black SUV parked messily near the curb, hazard lights blinking aggressively. The passenger window rolled down, and a girl leaned halfway out, grinning like she’d just spotted a long-lost cousin.

“Why do you look like you’re about to walk into a job interview?” the girl called. “Get over here!”

Isadora huffed a quiet laugh despite herself and made her way over.

The girl who’d shouted, hair up, bright eyes, chaos practically radiating off her, jumped out of the passenger seat before Isadora even reached the car.

“You took forever,” she said, already reaching for one of Isadora’s bags. “I’m KK, obviously. Favorite teammate. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

“You just met her,” another voice cut in.

Isadora glanced toward the driver’s side, where Aubrey leaned against the door, arms crossed, smiling in a way that felt calmer, steadier.

“Don’t listen to her,” Aubrey added. “She says that to everyone.”

“Not true,” KK shot back. “I hated your vibe at first.”

Aubrey rolled her eyes. “Hi, Isadora. I’m Aubrey. Welcome to UConn.”

There was something grounding about the way she said it, like it wasn’t just a greeting, it was a reassurance.

Isadora adjusted her grip on her duffel. “Thanks…for picking me up.”

“Of course,” Aubrey said easily. “Coach said you’d be getting in around now, and KK insisted we come.”

“I insisted because I’m a good person,” KK corrected, already popping the trunk and tossing Isadora’s bag inside. “And because I wanted to see if the rumors were true.”

Isadora blinked. “Rumors?”

KK slammed the trunk shut and turned to her with exaggerated seriousness. “That you’re scary good.”

A beat.

Then she grinned again, all mischief.

“Also, that you don’t talk much, but we’ll fix that.”

Isadora shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her before she could stop it. “We’ll see about that.”

“Yeah,” KK said, nudging her toward the backseat. “We will.”

The drive to campus was louder than Isadora expected.

KK talked enough for three people, bouncing from topic to topic, practice schedules, dorm setups, who snored (apparently multiple people), and where to get the best late-night food. Aubrey chimed in here and there, filling gaps, correcting exaggerations, keeping the energy from tipping too far into chaos.

Isadora mostly listened. Watched. Took it all in.

The trees blurred past outside the window, deep green and endless. Nothing like home. Nothing like the court down the street where everything had started.

Her fingers curled slightly in her lap. She hadn’t asked the question yet. Hadn’t said the name.

But it was sitting there, heavy, unavoidable.

As if sensing the shift, Aubrey glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “You good back there?”

Isadora nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just…tired.”

“Jet lag,” KK said confidently. “Even though you only crossed one time zone.”

“That’s not how that works,” Aubrey muttered.

“Let me have this.”

Isadora smiled faintly, then looked back out the window.

Campus came into view slowly, buildings rising between trees, banners hanging, the unmistakable presence of something bigger than any one person.

Her chest tightened.

“We’re gonna be here together.”

The memory hit harder than she expected.

Her voice. Her laugh. Her hand tugging her back onto the court when she tried to leave early.

For a second, it almost felt like she could turn her head and see her sitting there beside her.

But she didn’t.

Instead, there was just the empty seat. And everything that had filled it before.

They pulled up to the dorms, and KK was out of the car before it fully stopped.

“Home sweet home!” she announced, throwing her arms wide like she personally owned the building.

Aubrey killed the engine and turned halfway in her seat. “We’ll help you get settled. Some of the others are around too; you’ll meet them later.”

Isadora nodded, stepping out of the car.

The air felt heavier here. Or maybe it was just her lungs.

“Hey,” Aubrey added, a little quieter this time.

Isadora looked at her.

“You don’t have to have everything figured out right away,” Aubrey said. “First day’s just about getting through it.”

It was a simple thing to say.

But it landed.

Isadora let out a slow breath. “Yeah. Okay.”

KK reappeared at her side, already grabbing another bag. “Less talking, more moving. I want to see your reaction when you realize how small these rooms are.”

“They’re not that bad,” Aubrey said.

“They’re bad.”

“They’re manageable.”

“They’re tragic.”

Isadora shook her head again, following them inside.

Step by step. Bag by bag.

She crossed the threshold into a place she’d once imagined differently, lighter, shared, filled with a kind of happiness she didn’t have to question.

Now it felt uncertain.

Fragile.

But still…possible.

Somewhere on this campus, she was here. Somewhere, the girl who used to be her person was living an entirely separate life.

And now, their worlds had collided again.

Isadora tightened her grip on her bag and kept walking. She didn’t know what would happen next.

Only that there was no avoiding it anymore.

The hallway smelled faintly like detergent and something citrusy, the kind of clean that never quite covered up how many people lived there before you. KK walked a few steps ahead, dragging one of Isadora’s bags like it weighed nothing.

“Okay, mentally prepare yourself,” KK said over her shoulder. “If your expectations are high, lower them. Then lower them again.”

“They’re fine,” Aubrey said, nudging a door open with her shoulder. “Don’t listen to her.”

“They’re fine if you’ve never experienced comfort,” KK shot back, stepping inside.

Isadora followed.

The room was…small.

Not unlivable. Not terrible. Just tight. Two beds, two desks, two dressers, everything neatly arranged in a way that made it feel even more compact.

KK spun in a slow circle. “Welcome to luxury.”

Isadora huffed a quiet laugh, setting her bag down by the bed closest to the window. “I’ve seen worse.”

“See?” Aubrey said.

“Stockholm syndrome,” KK muttered.

Isadora ran her hand along the edge of the desk, grounding herself in something physical, something real. 

“It’s good,” she said, more to convince herself than anyone else.

“You’ll get used to it,” Aubrey added. “Everyone does.”

KK clapped once. “Alright. Unpack later. There are people you need to meet.”

Isadora’s stomach dropped just slightly.

“Now?” she asked.

“Yeah, now,” KK said, already halfway back out the door. “They’re all around. Summer workouts mean no one ever actually leaves.”

Aubrey gave Isadora a quick, almost apologetic smile. “It’s better to just rip the band-aid off.”

Isadora nodded.

Right.

Rip the band-aid off.

They didn’t go far, just down a flight of stairs and out toward the practice facility. The sound of a basketball echoed faintly as they got closer, rhythmic, familiar.

It settled something in her chest. At least that part hadn’t changed.

KK pushed the door open without knocking.

“Guess who we picked up!” she called out.

A few heads turned immediately.

The gym wasn’t full, but there were enough people scattered around, shooting, stretching, talking, that the space felt alive.

Isadora stepped in slowly. Eyes landed on her. One by one.

“Yo, that’s her,” someone said under their breath.

Another voice, louder this time, “Isadora, right?”

She nodded, shifting her weight slightly. “Yeah.”

A girl jogged over first, tall, steady presence, a warm smile that felt easy. “I’m Aaliyah,” she said, holding out a hand. “Finally get to see you in person.”

Isadora shook it. “Yeah. You too.”

“Bout time,” someone else added, walking over, Azzi, if Isadora remembered correctly from film and articles. “We’ve been hearing about you for a minute.”

“Good things, I hope,” Isadora said lightly.

Azzi smirked. “We’ll decide that after practice.”

KK gasped dramatically. “Don’t threaten our new teammate on day one.”

“I’m motivating,” Azzi shot back.

More introductions followed, names stacking quickly, faces blending just a little as Isadora tried to keep up. KK chiming in again like she needed to reintroduce herself. Laughter. Movement. Energy.

It was overwhelming in a way that wasn’t bad, just a lot.

And then, it shifted. Subtle. Quiet. But enough.

Isadora felt it before she saw it.

That almost imperceptible dip in the noise. The slight change in attention. The way a couple of people glanced past her shoulder.

Her chest tightened.

She didn’t turn right away. Couldn’t. But she didn’t have to.

“Paige,” KK said casually, like it was nothing. “Perfect timing.”

And just like that, there she was.

Paige Bueckers stood a few feet away, a ball tucked under her arm, a thin layer of sweat catching the light along her hairline. She looked exactly the same.

And completely different.

Taller, maybe. Sharper somehow. The softness around her edges replaced with something more controlled.

But her eyes, her eyes hadn’t changed. They locked onto Isadora immediately. Everything else blurred.

The gym, the voices, the movement, it all faded into something distant and muffled.

For a second, neither of them moved. Didn’t speak. Didn’t breathe.

A lifetime of moments sat in the space between them: cracked pavement courts, late-night shooting drills, whispered plans, the night everything fell apart.

And then, Paige blinked. Just once. The moment snapped.

“Hey,” she said. It was simple. Flat. Like they hadn’t once known everything about each other.

Isadora forced her shoulders to stay relaxed. “Hey.”

Her voice came out steadier than she expected.

“Finally got you here,” Paige added, shifting the ball slightly against her hip.

“Yeah,” Isadora said. “Guess so.”

A beat. Too long. Not long enough.

Aaliyah clapped her hands once, breaking the tension without realizing it. “Alright, this is gonna be fun. Backcourt just got scary.”

“Facts,” KK agreed immediately. “I’m telling you, we’re about to be unstoppable.”

Azzi nodded toward Isadora. “You hoop now, or you still settling in?”

Isadora dragged her gaze away from Paige because holding it felt like standing too close to something that could burn her.

“I can play,” she said.

“Good,” Azzi replied, already backing up toward the court. “Let’s see it then.”

“Yeah, come on,” KK added, grabbing a ball and tossing it lightly toward Isadora.

Instinct took over. Isadora caught it without thinking, fingers adjusting against the worn leather.

For a split second, it felt like before. Like turning to pass it to Paige without looking. Like knowing exactly where she’d be.

Her grip tightened. She didn’t look.

“Run it,” Aubrey called.

They split up quickly, falling into something that resembled teams. Movement filled the court again, sneakers squeaking, voices overlapping.

Normal. Easy. Like nothing was wrong. Like there wasn’t a fracture running right down the middle of it all.

Isadora took her spot at the top of the key, bouncing the ball once. Twice.

Across from her, Paige. Guarding her. Of course.

KK whooped from the side. “Oh, this matchup? Yeah, I like this already.”

“Play,” Aubrey warned.

Isadora exhaled slowly. Then she moved. Fast. Sharp. Driving left before cutting back right, testing, probing, and Paige stayed with her.

Step by step. Like muscle memory. Like they’d done this a thousand times before.

Because they had.

Their eyes met again, brief, electric. Something unspoken flickered there.

Recognition. Frustration. Something deeper neither of them let surface.

Isadora pulled up, the shot clean, controlled, swish.

A couple of voices reacted immediately.

“Okay!”

“Yeah, she’s nice.”

KK yelled something incomprehensible in excitement.

Isadora barely heard it. She was already backing up on defense. Already resetting. Already pretending this didn’t feel like everything and nothing all at once.

No one said anything about the tension. No one pointed out the way their energy shifted around each other.

To everyone else, this was just basketball. Just new teammates getting a run in. Just the start of something exciting.

But underneath it, there was history. There was distance. There was everything they hadn’t said.

And as the game kept going, fast and fluid and loud, Isadora realized one thing, clear as anything she’d ever known.

Being here with Paige again? It wasn’t going to be simple.

Not even close.