5

May 24, 2025 — Night Out

Jayla buzzed the apartment door just as the sky outside had shifted to the deep blues of early evening. Angel opened it, smiling instantly. "Hey, Jayla. Thanks for coming on such short notice."

"No problem at all," Jayla said, scooping Arayah into her arms. "She so freaking cute. Okay go have fun."

Angel chuckled, stepping aside. "Thank you. I owe you one, seriously."

"You owe me dinner," Jayla teased. "I don't do this for free."

Angel laughed, closing the door behind her. "Deal. Enjoy your night with the little princess."

She retreated to her bedroom, her nerves fluttering in her stomach. This was her first real night out since the season started, and she'd fought hard to let herself say yes. She glanced in the mirror: the curls she'd styled earlier fell just past her shoulders, glossy and full. Her leopard print two-piece—the cropped top with thin straps and matching skirt—paired with the bold red Valentino heels gave her that electric, confident feeling she hadn't let herself wear in months.

Phone buzzed. Rickea.

"Bout time, girl," she said when Angel answered. "You ready?"

"Yep," Angel said, smoothing her top one last time. "Just finished up now."

The ride was short. Rickea drove with her usual energy, upbeat music low on the speakers. "You look good as fuck," she said casually. "Them heel tea. I need to borrow sometime "

Angel smiled faintly. "Just trying to enjoy myself without worrying about work, social media, or stats for once."

"Exactly. You deserve it," Rickea said. "Tonight, it's just us, the team, and maybe a few surprises."

The club was already buzzing by the time they arrived. The bouncer waved them through without a second glance—the team name carried weight, and the Sparks' rookies weren't far behind in recognition. Angel's heart thumped in anticipation as they moved past the velvet ropes, the pulsing lights and heavy bass washing over her like an electric wave.

She stuck close to her team at first, the comfort of familiarity in her corner. Drinks were ordered, hands held trays of small appetizers, and everyone was laughing. Angel tried to melt into the night, letting the music and lights take her away from the pressures of the season.

"Smile bitch!" Rae shouted as she recoiled angel who smirked and posed for the camera.

But when the doors finally opened for the Aces crew, the energy shifted. Angel's pulse spiked, but she held her composure. A'ja Wilson walked in first—smile bright, aura commanding—and Angel approached without hesitation.

"A'ja!" Angel greeted warmly, hugging her. "It's been too long."

"Way too long," A'ja said, eyes scanning her. "You look amazing, by the way. Those heels... girl."

Angel laughed. "Thanks. You always know how to make someone feel seen."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries about training, life, and basketball, the kind of easy, natural rapport that comes from shared history. A'ja had mentored Angel during her early college years, giving her guidance on everything from technique to mindset. Angel felt grounded by her presence.

But then Angel's eyes drifted, almost instinctively, across the room—and froze.

Jackie Young.

Reserved, understated, yet impossible to ignore. She leaned slightly against the bar, scanning the room with a quiet awareness. Angel didn't know why, but she couldn't tear her gaze away. Something about her poise, the calm confidence beneath the subtle smirk, drew Angel in completely.

For the rest of the evening, Angel found herself returning to that gaze, even as she laughed with teammates and sipped her drink. She noticed the way Jackie's eyes met hers once or twice, but always fleetingly—never long enough to force a conversation. And Angel couldn't explain why it made her pulse jump.

Around her, teammates chatted, danced a little, or mingled with other Sparks players. No one said anything about Angel's lingering looks, though a few caught them glancing from the corner of their eyes. The unspoken tension hung quietly, unnoticed but palpable.

Rickea nudged her lightly. "You good over here, or you just staring at someone like a deer in headlights?"

Angel laughed, brushing it off. "I'm fine. Just... people-watching."

Rickea smirked knowingly but didn't press. She had that energy that could tell without asking. Angel was grateful; she didn't want to explain this, not yet.

Hours passed, and Angel maintained the careful balance: present with her team, laughing when prompted, dancing just enough to feel the music, but her eyes always unconsciously drifting to Jackie. Every so often Jackie's gaze would flick in her direction, just long enough to make Angel's stomach tighten before she'd quickly look away.

No one said anything. No one needed to. The tension was theirs alone, unspoken but electric.

By the end of the night, Angel was exhilarated, her mind spinning not just from the music and dancing, but from the strange, magnetic pull she couldn't shake. She knew she'd have to process it later—alone, in the quiet of her apartment, or maybe on the ride back.

Rickea looped an arm through hers as they left, laughing. "See? You survived. You enjoyed yourself. Told you, you deserve this."

Angel nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah... yeah, I do."

But even as she said it, her mind drifted back to Jackie Young, the one person in the room who had captivated her entirely. She couldn't explain why, and she didn't have to. Not yet.

Tonight had been fun. Free. Electric. And it had only made one thing very, very clear: some connections don't need words to make their presence felt.

Excuse all errorsAjah