C?l?a?s?H? || Aubrey Griffin

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Friday, December 6th – 11:42 PM

The dorm was quiet.

KK was passed out, hoodie over her head, Summer Walker and Brent Faiyaz melting together on the speaker like a lullaby too tired to sing all the way through. Her foot twitched every so often, like she was dreaming of drop steps or crossover drills. The way y'all had run in practice today, you wouldn't be surprised if she woke up sore in her sleep.

You weren't sleeping, though.

You were flat on your back, hoodie drawstrings pulled so tight only your nose and lips showed. Your phone sat on your chest like dead weight. Screen dark. Vibes darker.

You should've been asleep.
You needed to be asleep.
The game tomorrow wasn't just big—it was the game.

Sold-out arena.
ESPN cameras.
Home crowd buzzing like they already knew it was going to be one for the books.

But you weren't thinking about any of that.
Not really.

Your head was stuck somewhere else.
On someone else.
On her.

Aubrey hadn't texted since 6:07 PM.

"I'm grabbing food with the team. I'll call you after."
But there was no "after." No missed calls. No quick "knocked out lol" text. Just silence.

It had been over five hours.

Not that you were counting.
(You were definitely counting.)

You tapped her name in your messages, thumb hovering over the keyboard.
Typed "you good?"
Deleted it.

Typed "missed you today."
Deleted that too.

You sat there, phone balanced on your chest, feeling the silence stretch.

Then you made the mistake.
You opened Instagram.

Just meant to scroll. Distract. Clear your head.
Instead, it hit you like a cross-screen blindside.

A DM.

Destiny (South Carolina):
"y'all playing in Hartford tomorrow, right? might pull up."

At first, you just stared.
Like maybe if you blinked enough, it would disappear.

But it didn't.

Same name.
Same profile.
Same smirk in her pfp.

She hadn't hit you once since the transfer. Not a single message. No "good luck," no "you killed that last game," not even a "heard about UConn."

Nothing.

And now, this?

Your pulse jumped.
You clicked her profile.

She looked the same.
That easy confidence.
That grin that made you feel like you were either about to fall in love or make a huge mistake.

New highlights on her page.
New posts.
New captions that lowkey felt like subs.

"Some people play for love. Some people play pretend."
"You fumbled, not me."

You left her message on seen.
Locked your phone.
Let your hands fall beside you on the bed.

But your chest was loud now.
Too loud.
Too full.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Saturday, December 7th – 8:33 AM

Game day.

The locker room was humming with energy. Sneakers squeaking against the floor. Velcro ripping. Smells of eucalyptus balm, fresh tape, and nerves everywhere.

You sat at your locker, wrapping tape around your wrist with too much tension, the roll snapping hard at the end.

Paige, already half-dressed, leaned over from her spot. "You good?"

You nodded too fast. "Yeah, just focused."

KK, kneeling to tie her second sneaker, looked up slow. "Focused? Girl, you got that my ex just texted energy."

You gave a half-laugh. "She did. Said she might come to the game."

Both their heads snapped toward you.

Paige: "Destiny?"
KK: "Like, Destiny-Destiny?"

You gave a tired nod.

Paige stared. "What did Aubrey say?"

You blinked.

"I haven't told her."

They stared at you like you'd just said you were transferring back to the SEC.

"Jordan," Paige said. "She cannot find out from someone else."

KK's voice was gentler, but firm. "You already know how that looks. Whole crowd full of people, ESPN cameras, and your ex walks in? That's a whole distraction—and not just for her."

You sat back on the bench, rubbing your hands down your face.

"I didn't respond. I left her on seen."

"That doesn't matter," Paige said. "You gotta tell Aubrey now."

"I just—" you exhaled. "I don't want this to blow up before we even step on the court. She's been off lately. I didn't wanna add more."

"But hiding it is adding more," KK said. "You know what they say—small lies open big cracks."

You sat there, shoulders heavy.

The room buzzed around you. Coaches talking, sneakers squeaking, music playing. But it all felt background.

Because the truth was—
You weren't scared of Destiny pulling up.
You were scared of how much Aubrey still made you feel.

Scared that she'd look at you different.
Scared she wouldn't say anything at all.
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