Chapter Text
December 7th, 1983
There was something almost peaceful about the gym at the end of a game. The crowds always cleared out quickly, and when she finally made her way out of the locker room, very few spectators remained. In the calm after the storm, she allowed herself to take it all in.
She dribbled a basketball, listening to the sounds echoing off the empty bleachers.
She shot free throws with her eyes closed.
She breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of stale sweat, old leather, and long-abandoned popcorn.
She welcomed the peace with open arms. It didn’t matter if she played the entire game or rode the bench, she’d always give herself twenty minutes to decompress after the games. And the best part was, everyone let her.
She’d only been a member of the varsity team for a few weeks, brought up from JV in an attempt to take the team to the next level. She was good, everyone knew it, but she found it difficult to fit in with a group of girls who only saw her skill as a threat to their playing time.
Tonight, she wasn’t left alone.
Just as she released the ball for a free throw, a voice called, “You’re turning your hips to the left when you shoot.”
The ball passed through the hoop with ease, but before it could bounce on the ground, it landed in someone’s hands.
She opened her eyes and was met with a familiar head of hair.
Steve Harrington.
“If you keep your hips toward the goal,” He said, dribbling the ball. “Other players won’t recognize which side you favor for rebounds.”
“I don’t miss,” She said simply. “So no need for rebounds.”
Steve laughed softly, tossing the ball to her. “Casual arrogance,” he said. “I like it.”
Steve Harrington knew a thing or two about casual arrogance. It had long been his favorite defense mechanism. Pretending to know it all was the easiest way to hide not knowing anything at all. And every day, Steve was learning that he knew nothing at all.
She spun the ball in her hands, dribbling twice. “Not arrogance,” she said with her eyes closed. “If I think about the rebound, I’m setting myself up to miss.” She took a breath in, her chest rising softly. She released the ball as she breathed out.
She made it.
“Impressive,” Steve said, once again collecting the ball after it went through the hoop. “Do you close your eyes in games?”
She smiled, laughing a little, “I don’t think that would go over well with the team.”
“Yeah, they already can’t stand you. Probably not a good idea to piss them off even more with your talent.”
Her smile faltered ever so slightly. Of course, she already knew how the team felt about her, but she never thought it was that obvious to outsiders. Then again, Steve was on the boys’ team, and the two teams were constantly hanging out. Without her.
“Life of a prodigy.”
Steve shrugged off his Members Only jacket, running his hand through his hair. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call you a prodigy,” he said. “I’m no prodigy and I think I could take you.”
“What makes you think you could beat me?” She challenged him, knowing damn well that he automatically saw himself as the superior athlete simply because he possessed a penis and she didn’t. “Is it because I’m a girl?”
“Maybe,” he shrugged. “Or maybe it’s because I’ve got a solid 4 inches on you and you just played a game. And that thing you do with your hips.”
She looked him up and down. He was posh, with his members-only jacket and expensive jeans. Even the way he carried himself screamed “I think I’m better than you.” She hated him for it. And she hated that he thought he could beat her.
“First to twenty wins,” She said.
“What do I win?”
“You won’t win.”
Steve cracked a smile at her casual arrogance again. She was nothing like he’d expected. The arrogance, he realized, wasn’t so casual after all. It was strategic, in the same way, she tilted her hips to the left when she shot a free throw. Her arrogance came from the court, a place where she felt comfortable and safe. A place where she knew she was unstoppable.
Steve longed for a place like that, a place where he knew he was unstoppable.
“And what if you win?” He asked.
“My team gets the court for first practice for the rest of the season.”
“Done.”
Steve stuck out his hand for her to shake.
She faltered, looking at his hand and then up to his hazel eyes. He raised his eyebrows, still waiting. She slapped her hand into his, and they shook.
Steve had the ball first, scoring a three right off the bat. She answered with a three of her own. They went back and forth, the score never tipping in favor of one or the other. Steve threw up what would be a game-winning three, but it bounced off the backboard and she collected the rebound.
She dribbled it out to the top of the key, Steve using his body for defense. She backed away, just outside the three-point line. Steve was on her, and they fought for positioning. She threw her shoulder into his chest, but he didn’t budge.
“I think it’s time we discuss what I get when I win,” He said, reaching around her waist and trying to steal the ball. She backed off quickly, causing him to lose his balance.
She pulled up for a shot, just as Steve landed firmly on the gym floor. With her hips staying square with the basket, the ball went through the hoop with a swish.
She won.
He lost.
“Impressive,” Steve said from the ground.
She reached out her hand, helping pull him to his feet.
He wiped his hands on his jeans. “I know I lost, but can I tell you what I wanted if I won?”
She shrugged, “Sure.”
“Your name.”
“Are you serious?”
He just nodded.
He didn’t know her name. He didn’t know much about her really. Just that she was the freshman playing on varsity and her teammates wouldn’t shut up about it. But he wanted to know her name.
“It’s Jessica,” She said. “Jessica Clarke.”
After that night in the gym, where Jessica beat Steve, the two would never talk again.