a/n: im trash but what's new? anyway, enjoy the loveliness that is jordan calloway, he's featured in the story!! also, fun fact, i've probably written this chapter four different times and this was the very first version so i hope i picked correctly and u guys enjoy this :)
//
"Daaaamn. Who are you trying to look good for?"
She shook her head slightly at the thought, still feeling unsure about the dress. She wanted to look good, as the banquet she planned to attend would be a milestone.
She was on a seasonal internship for two summer terms with the LA Clippers during grad school and tonight would be the night that all her own and the team's hard would be acknowledged.
She invited Dinah, her best friend from her hometown, as her plus one simply because they hadn't seen much of each other over the years, with school and all, and she would literally kill Camila if she had the opportunity to offer her a night surrounded by beautiful men and didn't invite her. Her words, certainly not Camila's, as she tried to keep things between herself and the players strictly professional. Of course the job came with flirtatious comments on her physique and offers of dates but she always smiled and brushed it off.
There was one guy, though. He was persistent, yet respectful, and she appreciated it. But she fell for that technique before and that experience definitely hadn't left her, even if it was years ago.
"No one, China. Tonight's important and I just want to look good," she explained, running her fingers through her shoulder length hair. She cut it not too long ago, just for the hell of it. It gave her an older look she never knew she was searching for. But after her last relationship, she constantly found herself looking for things to change about herself. Most of the time it was subconscious but she always knew there was an underlying reason for it.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror and caught Dinah staring at her, a frown apparent on her face. "What?"
Dinah bit her bottom lip and shrugged. "It's just, I've never seen you fret this much over your appearance before. This is the third dress you've tried on and you still don't seem satisfied. What's going on, Mila?"
She despised how much her best friend knew her, the real her. She knew when something was bothering Camila, or when she just wasn't herself. Truthfully, she wished she'd been around all these years. Maybe she would have been able to convince her that nothing was actually wrong with her and that she should be happy with who she is.
"Nothing—"
"Don't give me that bullshit," Dinah interrupted. "You know, I hate that our plans never worked out the way we intended back when we were younger. Going to college together, getting shitty day jobs, etc. I missed the better part of those years and I really beat myself up sometimes for taking high school as a joke and ruining our plans of attending the same school. But I'm here now, Mila, you know that you can talk to me."
She sat down on her bed next to Dinah and said quietly, "You missed a lot."
"I know," she agreed. "Are you mad at me for it? We never talked about it, you were always kind of distant whenever we FaceTimed or texted."
"Of course not. I just..."
"What is it, Mila?"
"God, it's been three years and I still haven't moved on," she muttered, rolling her eyes at the feelings she never quite was able to get rid of.
"And it's not like I'm still in love with her because I'm not. Definitely not. It's just—she did so much damage to my ego, my self-esteem, everything. Everything about myself I have changed at one point or another to make myself more attractive, or more interesting. And for what? She's not even here to witness it. She dropped me like it was nothing and never made the effort to reconcile."
"Wait, what? Who is she?"
It was like a dam broke and five years worth of suppressed emotions accompanied with resentment-filled expletives came pouring out.
And Dinah just listened.
//
"...before we go, we'd like to acknowledge an important individual in attendance tonight that has irrevocably kept this team afloat."
She could see the cameras all pan in her direction as head coach, Doc Rivers, addressed her. He spoke words of admiration for Camila's work and dedication to the team; the long nights and early mornings with players who hadn't felt well or just needed to talk. She was there to keep the guys healthy and on their A-game, physically and mentally.
She shook hands and accepted the plaque bestowed upon her. She hugged Doc as she crossed the stage and he whispered words of encouragement during their brief embrace. It was a great feeling to be acknowledged and appreciated and Camila basked in it.
After the formal portion of the event was over, Camila was able to mingle with all the guests and happily get herself a drink as her mouth was feeling a bit dry from all the evening's conversations.
"Hey, I'll just have a club soda," Camila told the bartender once she had his attention.
"And I'll have the same." A hand slid a twenty dollar tip to the bartender to which he enthusiastically ambled away to get their drinks. Camila didn't even have to turn her head to know who it was. She recognized the voice.
"Good evening, Jordan."
The man beamed, pearly whites on display for the beautiful brunette before him. He cleaned up nice, the velvet suit and tie combo a striking contrast from his usual basketball uniform.
"Congratulations, Mila. You look amazing." His arm slid around her waist, effectively pulling her in to personally congratulate her. She embraced him back, playfully rolling her eyes when he didn't remove his arm from around her waist.
"Thank you. You're not as scruffy tonight," Camila teased, accepting her drink from the bartender and allowing Jordan to lead her over to the lounge area of the venue.
The center got straight to the point as they seated themselves.
"So, what? You're leaving us."
She shrugged and took a sip of her soda.
"You know Doc keeps my spot open for incoming grad school students."
"Yeah but he loves you. I'm sure he'll be willing to pull a few strings."
Her eyes observed the man's expression to see that he wasn't anything short of serious. He really didn't want to see her go. Her eyes flickered down because she didn't think she could handle how cute he looked with his all-business disposition about him.
Jordan was usually all jokes and smiles so to see him look so serious about Camila's departure was enchanting, to say the least. However, she didn't linger on that for too long. This was her career and only the beginning of it, a relationship with one of the players wasn't the right move right now.
"You know I like you, Mila, and I know you like me too, whether you want to admit it or not. So, tell me what's up."
She pulled the flesh of her bottom lip between her teeth as she contemplated the center's words. Was this really the time and place for this?
"I don't know, Jordan. I've talked to a lot of coaches tonight and a few expressed interest but it's something I have to think on. I know, for sure, though, I won't be continuing with the team. I knew that from the start."
Jordan nodded in acceptance and took a few sips from his own drink before parting his lips to say, "That means we need to talk about us." His lips spread into a grin, a piece of himself finally returning after hearing the truth about Camila's next step.
His words caused laughter to bubble up from her throat and release into the atmosphere. He was so bold no matter how many times Camila told him they weren't happening.
"Oh, do we?"
"Hell yeah. Now, that we're not going to be seeing each other all the time I have to make sure nobody is trying to take my spot."
She shook her head in amusement. "Jordan, at most, you're one of my best friends. We have bonded a lot while I've worked with the team. I will admit to that."
"Fuck, you just friendzoned me in like three seconds." He didn't let her words take a hit to his ego. "Whatever, ma. I'll get you one day." He sent her a wink.
"It might be time for us to depart, Jordan," Camila chuckled and allowed the spotting of Dinah from across to room to be her welcomed distraction. "I'll see you later though, right? We don't have to stop talking just because I'm done working with the team."
"We won't," he responded with promise and pulled her in for another hug. "Congratulations, again, Mila. You deserve the opportunity to work with any team your heart desires, even if it's not mine. See you later, ma."
//
It didn't take much time for Camila to make her decision. Her predilections were almost nonexistent. Her only real preference was that this time around she'd get some experience on the other side of things: the WNBA. Doc had explained that if he could place her anywhere within the WNBA, it'd be working for the Sparks. Of course she'd have to work from the ground up but she could certainly make a name for herself. She would be working with a $50,000 salary and some of the best players in the world.
It was a no-brainer.
So, that's how she found herself seated with head coach, Normani Kordei Hamilton, almost a month after the banquet.
"Rivers speaks very highly of you. He personally recommended that I consider you for the position. Though, we usually leave any open positions for more seasoned trainers," Coach Hamilton commented as she perused Camila's resume. "It says here that you spent two summer terms with Rivers' team. How'd that go?"
"Well, I was partially responsible for the performance of a few billion dollars of annual assets, so of course the pressure was on during the first term. I helped build and rebuild the bodies of some of the best players in the NBA. However, the thing about working for a male team is that because I am a woman, some of the players didn't respect the programs I was given the green light to implement. Toward the end of the first term, the players understood that I was there to help them succeed, that we were all working toward one goal and that I had the credentials and skills to prove that I belonged alongside them."
Coach Hamilton didn't show it but she was impressed. Here was this 24-year old woman making strides in a male-dominated field, so much like herself. If not for that, then Doc Rivers had certainly convinced her to bring Camila on.
She picked up a folder that contained a contract and the team's training camp and preseason schedule. She slid it over to the woman and stated that, "Training camp begins on the 23rd. Get your contract back to me before then. I'm happy to have you working with us."
She didn't scream until she was safely settled in her car, contract in hand and phone to her ear as she explained to Dinah that all her hard work had paid off. She was officially doing what she'd spent so much time working toward. She texted Jordan the news soon after to which he promised to take her out to dinner for a celebration. She playfully rolled her eyes at that.
Not wanting to waste time, she spent the entire next day reading over her contract and signing where necessary. She made copies and sent it over to Coach Hamilton's office before she took Jordan up on that offer for dinner. She was no longer working for the team and she made it clear that they were just friends, so why couldn't she enjoy his company?
They had dinner at a pretty low-key but still impressive restaurant downtown. Jordan did use a fake name under the reservation but somehow the paparazzi were still able to get shots of them entering and leaving the restaurant.
His arm was around Camila's waist, guiding her into and out of the restaurant because she was walking with her head down. She didn't really want pictures of her plastered all over the internet because it looked like she was on a date with Jordan Calloway, basketball extraordinaire.
When they got into his car, she told him that, "Next time, we'll do dinner either an hour away or at my apartment."
She had fun, though. They drank a little and discussed the opportunities that would be available to Camila at this stage in her life. Jordan was genuinely happy for her despite the fact that he probably wouldn't see her as much. He paid for everything and he took her home like the gentleman she knew he could be when he wanted to.
The first day of training camp came in no time. The facility that the Sparks were occupying was the UCLA's health training facility. Apparently, the team had partnered with her old alma mater and joined forces. The building would serve to house business and basketball operations. She'd have access to the school's top tier medical team, equipment and the other perks that the massive building held inside.
After parking her car, in a reserved spot that actually had a sign with her last name on it, she entered the building and walked over to the map that greeted her. Though she did her undergrad at UCLA, this building had just been built and wasn't there when she was still attending the school.
She found the part of the map that had gymnasium tagged on it and followed the signs to get there. The gym was equally as impressive as the rest of the building. It was a double court gymnasium with an on-court smart board and video displays for strategic planning and playbacks.
She spotted Coach Hamilton and a couple of people standing before the players whom were seated on the bleachers. She didn't want to admit it but she was nervous. This was a new team that she'd have to infiltrate her way into; new relationships that she'd have to build from the ground up.
"Cabello, over here," Coach Hamilton called her over with a wave of her hand. She made the necessary introductions between Camila and her colleagues. There was the head athletic trainer, Ally Brooke and Keith Powers, the lead assistant coach.
She introduced the team to Camila next and stated where she studied, her accomplishments and what team she worked with last. There were fourteen women seated before her but Camila hadn't made eye contact with them until Coach Hamilton allowed them to make their own introductions. One by one the girls introduced themselves and she paid attention to each, looking at each woman that spoke. It was one voice, the last voice, though that completely caught her off guard.
"I'm Lauren Jauregui."
Unlike, the other girls, Lauren didn't give any further information about herself. Coach Hamilton raised an eyebrow with the silent encouragement to go ahead attached with it.
"I don't need to continue, Coach. I already know her."
Coach Hamilton turned to Camila. "How do you know Jauregui?"
Camila was at a loss for words, standing there in disbelief. What were the freaking odds? This was—
"We did our undergrad here together," Lauren answered for her. "We were also previously in a relationship."
It was better to just tell the truth straight off the bat because Coach Hamilton wasn't one you hide things from. Neither was the team, hence why she was airing out their dirty laundry in front of everyone.
"Is this going to pose a problem?" This question was for Camila, again.
She had her bearings together by now though. Nothing, not even Lauren Jauregui, was going to get in the way of her job.
"Not at all, Coach Hamilton. The relationship ended years ago."
Coach Hamilton took a minute to herself to think on this before she decided that these were adults who should be able to put their differences aside to work together.
"Alright, then. Moving on," Coach Hamilton handed Camila and Ally Brooke a roster of team names. "I split the team up, seven players to Ally, seven to Camila. These are your players while we're here, ladies. Ally will oversee all fourteen players when necessary but Camila isn't new to the game, as aforementioned." Coach Hamilton went on to talk about what the girls would be doing for their first day back: media training, weight and condition, etc.
Camila looked over her roster as Coach Hamilton spoke.
Lauren stared at her.
Camila looked...older, sexier even, than when she'd last seen her. Her legs still went on for miles, her skin still held an olive tone that always contrasted so greatly with her own, no matter how tanned she was, and her cheekbones were still high and angular. Lauren wouldn't stop looking at her, not even for a second.
"Damn, Lauren, you hit that?" One of Lauren's teammates, Lauren Palmer, (everyone called her Keke because her middle name was Keyana and it was easier to differentiate which Lauren was being spoken too) playfully jabbed her with her elbow. "Didn't know you pulled like that."
"Shut up, Keke," Lauren mumbled and watched as Camila began calling the girls over who were on her roster.
"Didn't end on good terms?"
"More like she probably hates my fucking guts."
"Well, looks like you guys will be spending some quality time together," Keke commented as Camila called Lauren's name.
She stood and made her way over to the group of girls that surrounded Camila.
"So, I have a few of you listed for media training. While those girls are in training, the rest of you will be examined by an orthopedic specialist, an internal medicine doctor, an eye surgeon, a dentist, as well as by a physiologist. The standard flu shots will be given and rookies will be given hepatitis vaccinations. You'll meet with me last for advisement and your nutrition plans." Camila gave each girl their schedule for the day and the rest of the week.
The girls disperse to their respective areas but one lingered behind, following Camila instead of heading to meet with the orthopedic specialist.
"Camila," Lauren called, hoping the girl would stop walking. "Wait for a second."
"How can I help you, Jauregui?" Camila inquired as she swiftly turned around. "I thought I made it clear where you should be right now."
"I know where I should be."
"Then, what's the problem?"
"I'm just— I can't even..." She looked like a fish out of water. "I just can't believe you're standing here right now. How are you?"
Camila looked at her watch—some Apple gadget that she knew would be helpful in maintaining her own body and health— to check the time.
"We work ten hour days," she noted. "We only have a week before the exhibition games begin. I think we can catch up some other time."
Camila's tone was firm. She couldn't believe Lauren was standing there acting as if they ended on good enough terms to try and catch up, to converse on what seemed to be a personal level. Camila was going to be as professional as possible but she wasn't going to forget how badly Lauren hurt her or the things she said to her. It was safe to say she never got the closure she needed to recover from that relationship.
Lauren looked like a scolded puppy but nodded her head nonetheless. She didn't know why she thought initiating a conversation like that would yield a positive result, considering how she and Camila left things. She was a fucking dick to the girl, said some shit that she regretted—maybe not instantly—but in the few relationships she tried after Camila, she knew no one could compare.
"Okay, maybe later then. I'll see you around."
//
Camila was packing up her stuff for the day. For the most part, she had a great day. She met with her players, got to know them and had given them her personal contact info in case they ever needed to contact her.
Being around Lauren was weird to say the least but she managed. Lauren's meeting went a little different than everyone else's for the simple fact that she didn't have much to say to the girl:
"So, if you need me, text is probably the fastest way to reach me. However, do call if it is an emergency."
The words robotically left her mouth. It was everything she said to the other players but a little less warm and with a lot less eye contact.
Lauren's viridescent stare studied her for a few moments. She didn't know what the girl could possibly be thinking about for that long but it was beginning to make her feel uncomfortable.
She stood from her seat and muttered, "That's all I have. So, if you don't have any questions then—"
"Do I need to request to be switched to Ally's group?"
Camila furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. She opened her mouth to speak but Lauren interrupted her.
"I'd prefer to be treated just as any of my teammates and if I need to convince Coach Hamilton to take me out of your training group to receive that treatment, I will. In the two years that I have played for this team, I have never once felt like an outcast and I refuse to be treated as one. So, just let me know if I need to handle this situation with Hamilton and I will."
It was Camila's turn to look at Lauren like a fish out of water. It was only the first day and they already had issues.
"Excuse me? What have I done to make you feel like an outcast? I've been nothing but professional toward you."
"Camila, let's cut the bullshit." Lauren leaned back in her chair and pushed her hair out of her face with her right hand. "There are obvious negative undertones whenever we speak to each other. Earlier, I simply asked you how've you been and—"
"I don't see how that pertains to your conditioning or my job here."
"So, I can't get to know my athletic trainer? Someone I'm going to have to be close with?"
Camila kept her focus on the Apple insignia on her laptop as she mumbled, "I wouldn't want to bore you."
Lauren shook her head at the comment and stood abruptly. She snatched her bag up from the floor and exited the office, letting the door slam behind her.
She felt bad about it after Lauren left. She'd just claimed to have been professional and went and acted the exact opposite. It's just that she wasn't ready to be friends. She wasn't ready to let her anger or her hurt go from something that happened three years ago. She just wasn't ready.
But maybe it wasn't about being ready.