Chapter Text
Ring Ring Ring
Paige’s whole house buzzed. Someone was at her front door, obsessively ringing the bell. Living in a gated community, there’s only one person she could think to do that.
Drew.
There was no point in yelling down to him. The house was big, and she was upstairs.
Ring Ring Ring
She nearly fell from the last step at the second barrage of rings.
“Oh my God,” she muttered.
She wasn’t even dressed. Donning a pair of plaid pajama pants and a Nike sports bra. Nothing Drew hadn’t seen, but she’d prefer not to show next-door neighbors her nightly attire.
Ring Ring
She flung the door open before the next set of rings had finished.
Low and behold, stood her nineteen-year-old brother.
“Hey, P.” That’s it. That’s all he said at barely seven in the morning, having shown up out of nowhere, when he was supposed to be hours away. At school.
“What the fuck, Drew?” Paige hissed. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him through the threshold of her doorway. “What are you doing here?”
They stood in the foyer. Unlike her, Drew was well-dressed. Khakis, a white button-down, a clean pair of Jordans. He looked as if he were ready for school. Which made his untimely appearance all the more confusing.
“I just wanted to see you,” he said. “Can I not come see my sister?”
“It’s Monday.”
“And?” He looked up at the vaulted ceiling, spinning in circles. His voice echoed.
“You have classes on Mondays.”
“And?”
“And I'm not paying for your fucking tuition so you can skip and come wake me up at ass-crack of dawn.” She glared at the boy. “And will you stop spinning? You look like an idiot!”
He stopped. “Sorry, P.”
She sighed. “How are you even here?” She asked, walking into her kitchen. Her hoodie from last night lay haphazardly on the table.
Drew followed closely behind, making a mess as usual: kicking off his shoes, tossing his bag on the floor, emptying his pockets on the breakfast bar.
“I drove.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You drove three hours?” He shrugged. “From Austin to Dallas? For what?”
“To see you?” He grinned sheepishly.
“Bullshit. Spit it out.” She said, sticking her arms into her hoodie.
“Okay, but—Paige, you can’t get mad.” He looked down and took a deep breath, steeling himself. “I dropped out.”
Her sweatshirt seemed to tangle in on itself. An old UConn hoodie from her college days. It was supposed to bring her comfort. Now it was choking her.
She pulled it down with force, undoing her bun. “You what?” She was yelling. She didn’t care.
He flinched, “P, I can explain—”
“You better start fucking talking, Drew.” Paige prided herself in being a calm person, staying grounded. But desperate times called for desperate measures. Especially all she had set up for Drew had been thrown down the drain on a random Monday morning.
“You can’t tell Dad…”
“Drew!” she shouted, walking towards him. “I said talk.” She gripped his shoulders again, shaking him.
“You know, college isn’t for everyone P—”
“I can’t—” she palmed her face and started to pace back and forth, her bare feet echoing off the high ceilings of her kitchen. “I can’t believe this. Drew, do you realize how much that shit cost? Do you know how much that’s gonna help you? Your future? What you just threw away!”
“It’s not that easy, Paige! Not everyone has it like you.”
“Oh my god, Drew,” she said incredulously, “what are you talking about?
“No, I’m serious,” he said. They were inches apart, and she was seriously contemplating pushing him. “You’re in the W! You’re naturally good. It came easily to you.”
Now, that was rich; did he forget every single thing it took to get her there? Every sacrifice she had made?
“Stop, Drew.”
“You know my dreams, P. You know what I want. It’s all I ever wanted.”
Of course, she knew what he wanted. He’s made sure that she’s known for the past three years.
Drew wanted what any kid who’s ever picked up a rock wanted: to be a pro hooper.
He wanted what the legends had: stardom, fame, skill. Be the next Shaq and Kobe, Steph and Klay, Jordan and Pippin.
But life had other plans for him.
He tore his ACL in his senior year, and his offers started vanishing one by one. It had been hard for him to accept. But the fact was, he wasn’t good enough to be waited on. The D2 offers he received reached into the transfer portal and left him in the dust.
Their dad begged Paige to convince him to go to school, even without basketball. She got him to go. She even paid for his tuition. But it turned out Drew’s dreams did not lie within the confines of a communications degree.
“I said stop, Drew! God, I can’t do this. I just woke up…can you please just go sit down.” She waved towards her couch. A massive L-shaped one. It was expensive, for sure. Comfortable as hell, though. “I need to figure this out.” She was boiling with anger and needed to reel herself back in.
“Fine,” he mumbled, “just don’t tell Dad.”
—--------
The hug was what did it.
It was what proved that the trials and tribulations she faced were worth it
The injuries, the extra year, the tears—that night she broke down and told her dad she couldn’t do it anymore. It all led up to that singular moment with Coach. When nothing else mattered, as the man that she looked up to more than anyone, hugged her. When he whispered that he loved her.
—--------
After Paige banished Drew to the coach, she went upstairs.
She had to think.
Paige knew she couldn’t tell their father. He’d kill Drew, and maybe her too, because by some evil twist of fate, she was now complicit. She had to figure something out that would appease both Drew and their father. She just didn’t know what that thing was yet.
Drew was sitting downstairs, most likely with his hands in his lap, waiting nervously. He was always afraid to know what Paige thought of him. Yet, she was always the first person he’d run to in a crisis.
She had to do him justice, even if she thought he was making the wrong decision.
She could try to change his mind. But the boy was stubborn. So stubborn. Just like her.
It’s the reason why he won’t give up on the NBA thing. Their dad thinks that he’s delusional. Paige thinks he’s passionate. Drew thinks he’s right. Paige also thinks he’s a little insane.
Her mind was running in circles.
He’d have to stay with her if they wanted to keep it from their dad. She’d also have to call her financial advisor to stop all the payments to the school. Maybe she could hold that against him? Say it’s too much? Drew wouldn’t buy it; Paige was too rich for her own good. She paid off both of her parent’s houses. Had a house big enough to suit a ten member family. Paige could probably buy a yacht, and there would barely be a dent in her bank account.
She couldn’t guilt-trip him. That’s not who she was.
She had to think. But she couldn’t keep him down there for long. Just waiting on her. He was probably spiraling too.
They were one and the same.
—--------
Though her UConn run had ended. She was the girl who ended UConn’s championship drought. Her banner would go up in the Hall of UConn Greats with her GOAT status cemented.
She was the girl who conquered all the hardships that life had thrown at her.
—--------
Paige had dressed by the time she entered the living room. She had been right. Drew was staring ahead at the empty TV screen, likely spiraling. She almost felt bad for him. Almost. Then she remembered the clusterfuck he had put her in.
He heard her immediately and flinched when she planted herself in front of him. She was towering over him. From an outsider’s perspective, it probably looked like she was about to beat him up.
Though he might have actually thought she would.
“I’m not telling Dad,” she said finally.
He visibly relaxed. “Thank you, Paige. Seriously. Thank you.” He got up, opening up to hug her.
“But I’m calling Nika.”
He dropped his arms. “What? Why?”
“You said you wanted to play basketball,” she said.
“Yeah…but what the hell does Nika Muhl have to do with that?” Drew asked, furrowing his brow.
“Nika’s a coach.”
“What the fuck does that have to do with me?”
“Watch your mouth,” she pointed a finger at him, “You’re in my house. You got me into this mess. You wanna drop out? Then you’re gonna do what I say.”
It was as if her words had a force attached to them, because he fell back onto the couch. “Okay. Okay,” he said, shrinking under Paige’s glare. “Sorry. I’m just confused. What does Nika being a coach have to do with me?”
“Like I said, Nika’s a coach and since you wanna be irresponsible and drop out,” He opened his mouth to protest before Paige beat him to it, “No, listen to me. You wanna be irresponsible? You can get a job. Nika needs an assistant,” she said with finality, folding her hands in front of her.
Drew shook his head immediately. “Whoa, whoa, wait! Nika’s so mean!”
“Well, maybe I should’ve been meaner to you, then you wouldn’t have dropped out of school!” She softened for a moment. “Look, do this for me and I won’t tell Dad.”
“Ever?”
“For now,” she said, “I still have an empty room upstairs. Make it your own for now, just don’t, like, do any weird shit or have girls over ‘cause I’ll kick your ass.”
He smirked. “What? Don’t want me to follow in your footsteps?”
“Go to your room,” she huffed.
“Yes, Mom.”
“And wake up early,” she called out after him, “we’re meeting Nika at her gym at six!”
—--------
Paige entered the league wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. She was ready to conquer all, to become yet another UConn alum who excelled at the next level.
It happened almost immediately.
Her rookie year was nothing short of sensational. The accolades didn’t stop: Rookie of the Year, All-WNBA First Team, All-Star.
She broke records: broke Dallas Wings’ franchise records for both total points and assists, became the first rookie to drop 44 points in a single game, first player to score more than 40 points with a shooting percentage of 80 from the field.
She was dedicated, focused, and cutthroat.
In all honesty, Paige was on top of the world.
—--------
“You know, it was kinda a shock when you told me you were going into coaching,” Paige said, swishing the ball through the hoop. Nika chased down her rebound and passed it back.
“Why? Because of the interview I did back in college?”
Paige nodded, making another shot from the free-throw line. Swish. “Yeah, you said you’d be jealous, you know, not being able to play,” she said, wiping her brow, “just surprising.”
Nika jogged after her rebound again. “You’ve known me long enough to know I’m full of surprises, P.”
“Yeah!” Drew yelled from across the court, “Like the fact that you’ve been living in Dallas this whole time?”
“Bro, she’s been here for like three years!” Paige shouted back, “And what are you doing over there? Come on!”
“He actually didn’t know I lived here?”
“I’m starting to think he doesn’t know a lot of things,” Paige murmured.
“I can hear you guys!”
“Good, then start using your ears for listening,” Nika said. “Come on.”
Paige laughed, but even she was a little surprised when Nika threw the ball at Drew without warning. It hit his face.
“Ow! The fuck?”
“Damn, maybe this is the job for you.” She gave Drew a sympathetic look.
She felt bad. He didn’t know he was about to endure a sure form of serious ancient Croatian torture. She just hoped he’d make it out alive. Otherwise, she’d have bigger problems than explaining to their father that Drew dropped out of school.
—--------
Though Paige did well individually that first year, as a team, it went terribly
Paige was supposed the franchise player. There was no doubt about it. But her first-year head coach was terrible.
She was a point guard, and everyone knew that. Sure, in college she had played with many ball-dominant guards; Nika Muhl and Caitlyn Chen to name a few. But Paige excelled most at the 1.
Yet, Coach refused to see it. Nor did he know how to utilize Arike and Paige together. And as much as the Dallas fans adored Li, she was slow, did poorly in the pick and roll with Paige.
Disastrous would be the only way to describe Dallas that season.
—--------
“Holy shit,” Drew gasped, falling to the hard wood of the court.
Paige handed him his water, and he began to drink fervently. “Were the suicides necessary?” He asked between gulps.
“Thought you wanted to go to the NBA,” Nika said, pocketing her whistle.
“This is a coaching job!”
“Ohhh, yeah, I forgot,” she mocked.
Paige stifled a laugh. “It’s just to stay in shape, Drew. You know, get to know the gym. That type of thing.”
Truthfully, not everything they put him through was necessary. Paige may have texted Nika, explaining her need for a little payback after the position Drew put her in.
It was her idea, sure; Nika just enhanced it. Not her fault that the Croatian had anger issues.
“Sure,” he side eyed the two, before drinking the last of his water. Paige took it from him and sat it on the sideline.
“Here,” Nika said, handing Drew her phone, “put your number in.”
He eyed her suspiciously. “Why?”
“Why do you think?” she deadpanned. “If you’re going to be my assistant coach, we need to communicate.”
Paige went to the ball rack as the two worked out logistics. She picked up a signature WNBA-grade ball, dribbling it between her legs as she walked towards the block. The two were talking in the background, but she paid little mind to it as she started form-shooting.
Her mind drifted to how she would handle this new dilemma. Specifically, what her father would do if he found out.
She contemplated whether it really was a good idea to keep this secret from him. Drew was only nineteen. In her eyes, he would always be a baby. Or, at least way too young to make such big decisions. And as much as she was an adult and had her own life, her father would so much as burn her at the stake if he knew about it.
But Paige wasn’t a liar. She would have to tell their dad eventually. It was just a matter of when and how.
It was why she was so quick to begin planning how to get Drew on his feet. Which would undoubtedly be difficult, considering the upcoming season.
She had only a few weeks until the college season came to a close, where she and Nika would be attending practices when UConn made it to the Sweet Sixteen. Then came the draft soon after, and finally training camp, where she’d have to get used to new teammates.
60 games from May to November, minus playoff play. But with the way the Wings had been playing, Paige hadn’t played into November at all the past few years.
—-------
She won a championship in her second year. Dallas actually won a championship. The Wings had gone from only ten wins in her rookie season to over thirty in her second.
The front office hired a new coach, a former mid-major college coach with over twenty years of experience. He moved Arike to the 2 and Paige to the 1. It worked great.
Then the front office brought in Jess Shepard, a triple-double machine. And by what had to be divine intervention, were able to secure Napheesa Collier in free agency. It was a shock to all women’s basketball fans. Not a single soul thought Collier would leave Minnesota. But husky blood runs deep.
And as déjà vu hit, when Paige was named Finals MVP and confetti rained from the ceiling, she knew that she would dedicate her entire career to Dallas.
What she didn’t know was that it was all downhill from there.
—-------
“Draft’s comin’ up, P,” Drew said, his tongue sticking out as he drilled a three. Nika was still chasing their rebounds.
“Yep,” Paige said, wiping her brow after making her shot, “Twin, cool off. I’ll grab the rebounds for a bit.”
“Thanks, P,” Nika said.
“You think Fudd’s going number one?” Drew asked. He missed.
“I dunno. Maybe,” Paige said, tossing him the ball.
“I hope so,” Drew grunted out at his release point. “She’s hot.”
“Drew!” Nika scolded from the sideline.
“What?” he shrugged. “It’s true.”
“Yeah, come on, bro,” Paige said, “that’s mad disrespectful.”
“Sorry, damn.”
“Are we going to eat after this?” Nika asked.
“Nah, me and Drew got some things we need to talk about,” she looked at him pointedly.
“We do?”
—-------
It didn’t fall apart all at once.
First, Arike got hurt. An ACL tear. She returned, but looking back, it was probably too soon. She was never the same. It wasn’t even ten games into the season when she tore the same one again. It ended her career.
Napheesa went back to Minny Paige’s fourth year. Apparently, an offer she couldn’t pass up. But Paige suspected it was more about the decline in Dallas’s performance rather than her loyalty to the Lynx.
The wings dropped to below .300 at that point. Jess stayed, but the core four had been disassembled.
And left to carry the load was Paige.
—-------
Paige’s Audi rumbled to life outside Nika’s gym. The sun had reached its apex, and the black wrap on her car was hot to the touch.
“God, can you turn the AC on?” Drew moaned.
“Bro, you’re halfway in the car,” she said. “Get in first. It takes a second.”
He huffed.
“I want a car like this,” he said longingly.
“Hmm, maybe if you had stayed in college and got a nice job, that would have worked out for you.”
“Or I can just have my rich sister buy it for me?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him smirking. She wanted to punch it off his face.
She seriously didn’t know where these vengeful thoughts were coming from.
The AC ultimately kicked in, and Drew reclined his chair. He even took it upon himself to connect his phone to the car. Old-school Fifty Cent started blaring through the speakers, because Drew’s minimum volume level was twenty bars.
Paige groaned. “Turn this shit off, bro.”
“You serious?” he said, bumping his head. “You can find me in the club, bottle full a—” he sang along. “Bro, this is way better than whatever Nika was playing. Lo-Fi? I can’t even remember, it was so ass.”
As much as this day had gone awry, she couldn’t help but smile at her little brother’s antics. So, against her better judgement, she began to sing along with him.
Drew tried to play Hit ‘em Up Dirty next, but that was where Paige had to draw the line. He grumbled, but agreed to play something they both liked. Then they sat in relative silence, listening to a relaxing RnB playlist as the city passed by, the cool interior of the car deceptive to the Dallas heat.
Paige pulled into the entryway of her gated community and showed her ID to the guard. Only minutes later she rolled the car into her garage. She put the car in park and locked the doors before Drew could grab the handle.
“Wha—”
“There’s gotta be another reason.”
“Huh?”
“Why’d you drop out, Drew?” She looked at him. Holding eye contact. He would usually do the same. That’s what their dad taught them: you hold eye contact no matter what. But Drew was averting his gaze and looking down into the footwell.
“Paige—”
She sighed, unlocked the door, and cracked it open. But Drew stayed still, clearly flustered. “You don’t have to tell me now. Just—” shook her head, “if something happened, you can come to me.”
“Okay,” he said it so quietly, but she heard him. She’d always hear him. It was Drew, her baby brother. That’s why she was doing this.
“C’mon,” Paige said, exiting the car, “I said no to Nika about dinner ‘cause we’re ordering in. What do you want?”
He smiled, stepping out as well. “Chinese.”
—-----
At 29, Paige was about to enter ninth year in the league. And in all honesty, she was still in her prime.
But she needed to work harder, stack days, and stay focused on winning.
Dallas having the first pick in the draft would surely help.