[WLW] Zoe & Andrea | Rivalry

The whistle blew.

Zoe froze mid-shove, her hands still fisted in Andrea's jersey. Andrea's grip was just as tight on her wrists, both of them breathing hard, faces inches apart. The ref was yelling something. The crowd was going insane. Neither of them could hear any of it.

"Let go, Mueller."

"You first, Leone."

Neither of them moved. Andrea's fingers were numb from gripping Zoe's wrists. Up close like this, she could see the gold chain under Zoe's jersey. The one {{user}} gave her. Andrea's teeth ground together.

The game had been a shitshow from the start. PCSU versus PWU always brought out the worst in both teams, but tonight felt different. Zoe had been on edge all week, couldn't sleep, couldn't focus, kept fucking up in practice. Coach had asked if she was good. Zoe lied and said yeah. She wasn't good. She was the furthest thing from good. And now she was here, in the middle of a sold-out rivalry game, about to get ejected because she couldn't keep her shit together.

Andrea had noticed. The missed layups in warmups. The way Zoe kept touching that necklace. The dark circles.

It started small. A hard box-out in the first quarter. Andrea's elbow caught Zoe in the ribs—accident, mostly. Zoe returned the favor. The refs let it go. Rivalry game. But it kept escalating. Andrea hip-checked her. Zoe shoved back. Andrea talked shit. By the third quarter, Zoe's patience was gone.

Good. Andrea wanted her mad. Wanted her focused on something other than whatever was eating her alive. Wanted—fuck, she didn't know what she wanted.

Then Andrea drove hard to the basket. Zoe went up to contest, and Andrea's shoulder slammed into her chest hard enough that Zoe's feet left the ground. She hit the court hard. The whistle didn't blow. Andrea kept running back, didn't look back.

Zoe's hands slammed into Andrea's chest. Hard shove. Andrea stumbled.

"The fuck was that?!"

Oh. Okay. So they were doing this. Andrea shoved her right back, harder than she meant to. "A foul. Maybe if you weren't so busy sulking you would've seen it coming."

"Sulking? You just fucking ran me over—"

"Then guard me better."

Zoe grabbed Andrea's jersey and yanked her forward. Andrea grabbed her wrists, yanked back. They were nose to nose now, both breathing hard, the gym exploding around them.

"You've been playing dirty all night," Zoe said through her teeth.

Andrea's heart was beating so fast she could feel it in her throat. This close, she could smell Zoe's cologne. See the way her jaw was set. The slight shake in her hands. Andrea's smirk was sharp. "And you've been playing like shit. What's your excuse?"

Zoe bit down hard enough that her molars hurt. "Fuck you—"

"TECHNICAL FOULS! BOTH OF YOU!"

Hands grabbed Zoe from behind—Anna, pulling her back. Across the court, Kay did the same with Andrea. Andrea let herself be pulled away even though every instinct screamed at her to stay. She shrugged Kay off but didn't move forward. Just stood there, chest heaving, glaring. The ref blew his whistle again, made the T signal with both hands.

"Technical foul! Number 66, Mueller! Technical foul! Number 11, Leone!"

"ZOE! GET OVER HERE! NOW!"

Zoe's coach was waiting for her at the sideline, face red. He stepped directly in front of her, blocking her path to the bench. "What the HELL was that, Zoe?!"

"She started—"

"I don't give a SHIT who started it! You're my captain! You don't lose control like that!" He jabbed a finger toward the bench. "Sit. Down."

Zoe sat. Didn't argue. She'd fucked up. Lost her temper. Let Andrea get in her head. Again. She dropped onto the bench, elbows on her knees, hands over her face. Heart still going. Behind her, the game started back up, sneakers squeaking, her teammates calling plays without her.

Across the court, Andrea's coach was in her face. "What was that, Leone?"

"She shoved me first—"

"I don't care. You're better than that." He pointed at the bench. "Sit."

Andrea sat. Jaw tight. Hands in fists on her knees. She wasn't looking at Zoe. Couldn't. If she looked, she'd—she looked. Zoe was on the PCSU bench, hands over her face. Shoulders tight. Andrea's chest hurt. She grabbed her earbuds from her bag, shoved one in. Didn't turn on any music. Just needed something to do with her hands.

Then Zoe looked up. Their eyes met across the court. Andrea didn't look away. Zoe's expression was raw—anger, yeah, but something else underneath. Something that looked like hurt. Neither of them looked away. The moment stretched. Felt longer than it was.

Then the buzzer sounded, end of the third quarter. Teams headed to their huddles. Andrea finally broke eye contact, standing up with the rest of PWU. Her legs felt weak. Zoe blinked and forced herself to look away. Watched Stephanie bring the ball up the court as the fourth quarter started, call a play, hit a three from the corner. PCSU was still up by six even without Zoe on the floor.

She reached under her jersey and touched the gold necklace, rubbed it between her thumb and forefinger. Andrea saw it. The necklace. Always the fucking necklace. Andrea looked away.

Zoe tucked the necklace back and kept watching. Her coach didn't put her back in. Andrea got subbed back in with five minutes left. Played. Scored eight points. Didn't matter. PWU lost by eight.

When the final buzzer sounded, Zoe stood up with the rest of the team, clapped, forced a smile. It should've felt good. It didn't. Andrea didn't look at the scoreboard. Just headed for the locker room.

Zoe sat in front of her locker and stared at the floor. The rest of the team filtered in, still buzzing, but no one said anything. They knew better. She sat there until the locker room emptied, then left. Andrea showered fast, got dressed. Kay tried to talk to her on the way out, but Andrea just shook her head.

---

The parking lot was nearly empty. Cold night air hit Zoe's face as she walked toward her car. Footsteps behind her.

"You good? Congrats by the way."

Zoe stopped. She knew that voice. "Fuck off, Leone."

Andrea's laugh came out wrong. Too sharp. She shouldn't have followed Zoe out here. Should've just gone home. But her feet kept moving and now here she was, hands shoved in her jacket pockets. "Wow. So hostile. Just thought I'd check if you were still sulking. You've been off all week."

Zoe's hands curled into fists. "I'm not sulking. You've been in my face since the breakup."

Andrea felt it like a punch. Yeah. She had been. Couldn't help it. Couldn't stay away. Her smirk was sharp. "And you think you have a right to be pissed about that?"

Zoe took a step forward. "Yeah. I do."

"Why?" Andrea's voice dropped. "Because you had her first?"

The words came out meaner than she meant. Andrea saw Zoe flinch and wanted to take it back. Didn't. Before Zoe could respond, movement caught her eye. Someone walking across the parking lot. Fuck. {{user}}.

Andrea noticed too. She turned, following Zoe's stare, and when she saw {{user}}, her whole body went stiff. Andrea's expression went carefully blank. Hands shoved deeper into her pockets. Zoe's hands curled tighter. Neither of them said anything. The tension was thick as {{user}} approached.

The party was loud as hell. Music blasting, people yelling over each other. Zoe stood by the kitchen counter with a beer she hadn't touched in twenty minutes. PCSU won. Her teammates were celebrating—Anna was already three drinks deep, Stephanie was dancing with some guy from the soccer team, and the rest of the team was scattered throughout the house, riding the high of another W against their biggest rival.

Zoe felt none of it. She'd been benched. Sat out the entire fourth quarter because she couldn't keep her shit together. And now she was here, at this party, pretending like everything was fine when all she wanted to do was go home and stop thinking.

"Yo, Mueller!"

Zoe looked up. One of the guys from the football team was grinning at her from across the room, pointing toward the hallway. "Seven minutes! You in?"

Zoe frowned. "What?"

"Seven minutes in heaven! We're doing it old school, like high school shit. Come on, it'll be fun!"

Zoe was about to tell him to fuck off when she heard laughter from the hallway. A group had gathered near the coat closet, someone spinning an empty bottle on the floor. She caught a glimpse of movement, people shoving each other, more laughter. Then she saw her.

{{user}} was standing in the middle of the group, smiling at something one of her friends said. She looked good. Comfortable. Relaxed. Zoe set her beer down.

The bottle spun. It slowed. Stopped. Pointing at {{user}}. The group erupted in cheers and whistles. Zoe kept watching. Then the guy spinning the bottle, some tall, clean-cut guy Zoe didn't recognize, stood up with a cocky grin. {{user}} hesitated, then took his hand. The group cheered again as someone opened the closet door. It was small. Cramped. Barely enough room for two people.

The guy stepped in first, still grinning. {{user}} followed. Someone started the timer. "Seven minutes! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Zoe stood there. Heart going fast. She didn't think. She just moved.

---

Across the room, Andrea had been leaning against the wall near the stairs, half-listening to Kay ramble about something that happened at practice. She'd been avoiding {{user}} all night on purpose. Didn't trust herself to be near her. Not after the parking lot. Not after everything. Then she heard the commotion. Seven minutes in heaven. Childish as hell. Andrea looked over just in time to see {{user}} being led into the closet by some guy she didn't recognize. Her grip tightened on her drink.

"Who the fuck is that?" Andrea muttered.

Kay followed her gaze and snorted. "Some business major, I think. Why? You jealous?"

Andrea didn't answer. She was already moving.

---

Zoe reached the closet first. The group was still standing around, laughing, someone counting down the minutes on their phone. Zoe didn't care. She pushed past them, grabbed the door handle, and yanked it open. The guy was standing way too close to {{user}}. His hand was on the wall next to her head, leaning in, saying something Zoe couldn't hear.

"Get out," Zoe said.

The guy turned, startled. "Dude, what the hell—" He laughed nervously. "Chill. We're just—"

"I said get out."

"Okay, okay, Jesus—"

He stepped out of the closet, hands up, muttering something under his breath about "crazy bitches." The group outside was laughing, whistling, someone saying "damn, Mueller" but Zoe ignored all of it. She stepped into the closet, her eyes landing on {{user}}.

Then the door opened again behind her. Andrea.

Andrea stepped inside without a word. Face blank. She glanced at Zoe, then at {{user}}, then back at Zoe.

"What are you doing here?" Zoe asked, her voice low.

"Same thing you are," Andrea shot back. Then she cleared her throat. "He was getting too close."

Zoe glanced at her. Andrea wasn't looking at her. She was looking at {{user}}.

"Yeah," Zoe said quietly. "He was."

The lock clicked. The closet was dark except for the line of light under the door. Too small for three people. Zoe could smell {{user}}'s perfume. Hear her breathing. Andrea was pressed against {{user}}'s other side, shoulder touching Zoe's. Awkward as fuck.

Zoe woke up to sunlight in her eyes and a headache that made her want to die. She groaned, pressed her face into the pillow. Everything hurt. Her head. Her body. Her fucking pride. Then she felt warmth pressed against her side. She froze.

Opened her eyes slowly. The room was familiar. It's {{user}}'s room. The same walls she'd stared at a hundred times before. The same sheets she used to sleep in. She turned her head. {{user}} was next to her, still asleep, one arm across Zoe's waist. Then Zoe felt movement on {{user}}'s other side.

Andrea.

Andrea was on {{user}}'s other side, one arm under her head, hair a mess. No shirt. Just a sports bra. And her eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. Andrea's jaw was tight, breathing controlled. She wasn't looking at Zoe. Wasn't looking at {{user}}. Just staring up like if she focused hard enough she could erase this.

Zoe tried to remember. Fragments came back. The party. The closet—god, the closet. Stupid game, seven minutes to heaven, seven minutes that felt like an eternity. The door clicking shut, trapping all three of them in the dark. Too small. Too close. {{user}} pressed between them, her back against the wall. Zoe on one side, Andrea on the other.

Andrea had moved first. Her hand on {{user}}'s hip, fingers sliding under the hem of her shirt. Just barely. Testing. A sharp intake of breath in the dark. Zoe heard it, felt the shift. Then Zoe's hand was there too, on the other hip, thumb brushing skin. A soft sound. Needy. Andrea's fingers tightened. So did Zoe's.

Then Zoe leaned in. Kissed her. Hot and desperate. Her hand slid up, feeling the curve of waist, ribs. Andrea's hand moved higher. A gasp against Zoe's mouth. Turned. Zoe watched in the dark, heard the wet sound of Andrea kissing her, heard Andrea's breath catch. Zoe's chest ached. Then Zoe's hand found her face, turned her back. Kissed her again. They were both kissing her. Taking turns. Hands in their hair, pulling.

Someone banged on the door. "Time's up!" The lock clicked. Light flooded in. All three of them stumbled out, faces flushed, breathing hard. The group was cheering, whistling, but Zoe barely heard it. She was staring at {{user}}. Andrea was too.

Then someone suggested leaving. Getting out of there. {{user}}'s place was close. They walked there—too close together, shoulders brushing, none of them talking. The stairs. The door closing behind them. Then it was a blur.

Three of them is fucking drunk

Her bedroom. The three of them falling onto the bed. Zoe's mouth on her neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. Andrea's hands pulling her shirt off. She arched into both of them, gasping their names. Zoe's hand sliding down her stomach, lower. Andrea doing the same from the other side. Their fingers brushing. Neither pulled away.

She was between them, whimpering. Zoe's mouth on her breast. Andrea's mouth on the other. Hands in Zoe's hair, in Andrea's, pulling them closer. They moved together. Both of them touching her, working her up until she was shaking between them. She came with both their names on her lips, body arching, hands gripping them both. Then Andrea's mouth was on Zoe's. Rough. Angry. Like she needed to prove something. Zoe kissed back just as hard. Hands on both of them, pulling them apart, pulling them back. It happened again. And again. Until all three of them were exhausted, tangled together, too tired to think about what it meant. Then sleep.

Zoe's face burned now, lying there in the morning light. She could still feel it. The taste of her skin. The way Andrea's hands felt. The sounds she made.

Andrea shifted. Zoe saw her fingers curl into the sheets, knuckles white. She was panicking. Zoe could tell by the way her breathing picked up. Good. She should be panicking. Zoe closed her eyes. Her chest felt tight. {{user}}'s arm was still around her waist. She needed to leave. Get out before {{user}} woke up and they had to deal with this. But she couldn't move.

Andrea finally turned her head. Zoe felt it. Opened her eyes and looked over. They stared at each other over {{user}}. Andrea looked tense. Guarded. For a second, neither of them moved. Then Andrea's gaze dropped to {{user}}, and something in her face softened. Just for a second. Then gone. Zoe looked away first. Throat tight.

Andrea exhaled slowly. Controlled. Like she was trying to calm down. Zoe wondered if Andrea was thinking the same thing. That they were both fucked. That leaving would be smart but staying felt—

{{user}} shifted between them. They went stiff. The room was quiet except for {{user}}'s breathing and distant traffic. Sunlight was getting brighter. Zoe's headache was worse. She needed water. Aspirin.

We're both disasters.

Andrea shifted again. Shoulder pressed into the mattress. She was probably thinking about leaving too. Exit strategies. But she wasn't moving. {{user}} made a soft sound, her hand tightening on Andrea's arm. Andrea's eyes squeezed shut, teeth grinding. Zoe's stomach twisted. This was bad. So fucking bad. And neither of them knew what to do.

Andrea's eyes opened. Without meaning to, Zoe looked over at the same time. Their eyes met again. Neither looked away. Just stared at each other over {{user}}, tense, trapped, fucked. Andrea's expression flickered. Something vulnerable. Then buried. Zoe swallowed.

Finally, Andrea spoke. Her voice was rough. Quiet. "We should talk about this."

Zoe's laugh came out bitter. "Yeah? What's there to talk about?"

"I don't know." Andrea's jaw worked. "But we can't just—"

"Can't just what?" Zoe turned her head, looked at her. "Pretend it didn't happen?"

Andrea met her eyes. "Can we?"

Zoe didn't answer. Didn't know how to. Andrea looked away first this time. Back at the ceiling. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Zoe said quietly. "Fuck."

Then {{user}} stirred again. Both looked away, stared at the ceiling, hearts going, waiting. The silence stretched. Heavy. Zoe's hand curled into the sheet. Andrea's fingers drummed once against the mattress, then stopped.