studeteer - Tumblr blog

studeteer · 1 day ago

Text

you can't argue with this

pairing: paige x reader au: soccer player!paige x debate queen!reader synopsis: paige’s taste in music is loud and shitty but that’s not stopping her from making a playlist to ask you to prom. wc: 4k

Your morning had already staged a mutiny. Your mom’s car made a noise that sounded like a blender eating forks. Your chance to make it to your morning debate practice on time was practically zero.

You started pacing on the driveway with your backpack strapped to your shoulders.

Then came the unmistakable sound of your best friend’s Jeep rolling down the street. The music was so loud like it had been programmed to wake up the whole neighborhood.

The car stopped in front of you as Paige leaned across the passenger seat. Her grin was too wide, full of the enthusiasm of a golden retriever who had just discovered a tennis ball.

“Your Uber has arrived.” Paige declared.

You rolled your eyes as you climbed in. You held yourself to point out the empty soda bottles rattling near your feet.

“I didn’t order an Uber. I ordered a vehicle that is functional and clean.”

“Harsh!” Paige said. “Don’t hurt Max like that. This Jeep has character and feelings. He’s a survivor.”

“I still can’t believe you named this piece from a movie.”

“It’s fitting. If I push the speed limit, he’s gonna be Mad Max!”

You could only glare at the ridiculousness of that.

The speakers were blasting a song so aggressively that your brain cells threatened a meltdown. “Paige, people three towns over can hear this.”

“Exactly! Free entertainment and they’re welcome.” Your best friend shifted gears, sunglasses on.

As she pulled into the school parking lot, Paige rolled down the windows and announced loudly. “Hopkins High Debate Team President has arrived! Chauffeured in style!”

Heads turned. Paige’s soccer teammates whistled and laughed.

You groaned, sliding low in the passenger seat.

“Why must you make everything a spectacle?”

“Because…” Paige tossed a smile that hid a lot of trouble. “You’re worth a spectacle.”

For a moment, you forgot the other students laughing outside and that you were in a rush for that stupid debate practice. Who scheduled it at 8AM again?

You blamed it on the obnoxious loud music that was still playing from the speaker. You blamed it on the messy Jeep. And maybe, you blamed it on Paige too. She had been wearing that grin that had a way of knocking sense off its axis.

You got out and convinced yourself you and Paige were just best friends and that she hadn’t made you question yourself or why you started feeling silly every time she did something adorably stupid.

You ignored it as always. But when Paige caught up to you walking toward the school and nudged your arm, you felt that little flip in your chest again.

“I don’t have soccer practice today, so I’ll drive you home later.”

And okay, everyone knew Paige didn’t let anyone ride in her Jeep. People noticed. You noticed. Which made it harder to shove the whole thing into the best-friend box, no matter how hard you tried.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

The final whistle was loud as it cut through the field. It was sharp enough to make your ears ring. Paige jogged across the grass with her hair plastered to her forehead and socks streaked with dirt. She looked wet and exhausted. But one look at you, and she was smiling like she hadn’t sprinted all over the field for ninety minutes.

Paige should’ve been soaking the win with her teammates and should’ve let herself enjoy the two goals she scored. Instead, she was making her way to you. You were sitting on the second row with a stack of index cards in hand. You were locked in with your draft for the next mock debate you were preparing for a huge competition.

Paige could only laugh at the absurdity.

She couldn’t believe you were perched on the bleachers in a game against your rival school only to be studying what you would be affirming or negating.

She climbed up to you, still breathing hard from the sprint across the field. “You’re the one person who can sit through a ninety-minute game and still look like you’re taking the SAT.”

You glanced up, annoyed but amused. “And you’re the one who runs around kicking a ball like an idiot.”

You tucked your cards under your leg as if Paige might swipe it. She already caused a lot of trouble earlier in the day by stealing your Chemistry workbook. She didn't even take Chemistry.

Paige clutched her chest with an exaggerated pain. “Ouch! Brutal honesty from my number one fan.”

“I’m not your number one fan. I’m your best friend. Big difference.”

You deadpanned, but Paige caught the tiny smile tugging at your mouth before you looked away.

And that somehow lit something in Paige more than the roar of the crowd or her coach’s praise ever did.

Your smile did magical things to her that no goal or win could ever compare.

She sat down, not caring if she smelled like turf and damped socks. “For the record, you being here makes me play better.”

You returned your gaze to her and scrunched up your nose. “That’s the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Yeah, but it’s also true.” Paige smirked.

And for one second, between the people moving their way down from the stands and the scattered cheers fading from the field, it almost felt like the bleachers were you and Paige’s own little world.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

You claimed your usual corner table at the library. You were knee-deep in preparation of a History exam when Paige slid into the chair across from you. She dropped a bag of chips and two packs of Tru Fru chocolates on the table. It was loud and unceremoniously done that other students looked at your table.

“I come bearing life support.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have an art class?”

“I’m skipping for a higher calling.” Paige said as she ripped open the chips. “Saving you from death by boredom.”

“You do realize I’m trying to study for a very important exam and that your crunching is a disturbance, right?”

“That’s fine. I’ll doodle.” Paige snatched a pen and dragged it across the margin of your notes. She drew a very questionable stick figure in a crown.

You snatched the pen back. “You are vandalizing my work.”

“It’s historically accurate. Look, King Henry with the world’s worst haircut.” Paige grinned, clearly proud of herself.

You pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it.”

Your rolled your eyes and went back to highlighting. It was peace for a good five minutes when Paige shifted on her seat and leaned forward.

“Quiz me. Bet I’ll ace it.”

“You don’t even take this class.”

“Exactly. Think of me as your practice round.”

Against your better judgment, you read off a question. “Who signed the Treaty of Versailles?”

Paige tapped her chin with exaggerated thought. “That one French guy. Big fan of baguettes. Name starts with a C?”

You groaned, though your laughter slipped out before you could stop it. “Clemenceau. And you are hopeless.”

Paige brightened like she had just scored a goal. “See, I was close. At least I knew it was French.”

One question turned into another. Paige got half of them wrong. The other half was just pure luck in guessing. You didn’t mind it though. Her enthusiasm made it impossible for you to stay annoyed.

You found yourself explaining some things she was confused about. You gestured with your hands as if it would help the crease on her eyebrows. At least she was actually listening to you. Her eyes locked on you in a way that made you forget you were supposed to not talk in the library.

At some point the chips were gone, Paige’s doodles on your notes had multiplied, and your solo study session turned into bickering on dead people you were supposed to have knowledge of.

You caught yourself smiling so wide your cheeks started to hurt.

Paige smirked at you like she knew what she was doing.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

It was another game day.

You were watching by your regular spot on the bleachers. You thought you could give your whole undivided attention to this game, so you left your notes and index cards at home. You could still remember Paige being nervous about playing today that you had to watch her sprint up and down the field like a hawk.

This should be categorized as moral and visual support.

The rest of the stands buzzed with chatter. The sound of sneakers scuffed against aluminum seats. It was the kind of background noise you usually blocked out. But today, you were too busy watching Paige's frustrated face on the field.

Then it happened.

Alice Cooper cupped her hands around her mouth and screamed two rows below you.

“Go Paige! You’re amazing!”

Her voice echoed louder than the ref’s whistle. A few heads turned, including Paige’s. She grinned before going back to the game.

Your ears were burning and your head started to spin. The cheer hit you like a sucker punch. You narrowed your eyes at Alice, who bounced in her seat excitedly when Paige kicked the ball far and high.

By the time the game ended, Paige came jogging over to where you were standing. She spotted you and waved before weaving through the crowd.

“You saw that goal, right?”

“Hard to miss. Alice Cooper made sure everyone heard about it.”

“Okay? Wait, why were you glaring at Alice like she stole your opening argument in a debate?” Paige tilted her head in confusion.

“I glare at everyone. It’s part of my charm.” You shrugged.

“Uh-huh. Totally normal to shoot daggers at someone for cheering.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You didn’t respond but chose to cross your arms, as if signaling that you didn’t want to stick with the topic any longer than you should.

Paige still stared at you, waiting for more. Eventually, she huffed out a laugh and nudged your shoulder. “Fine. Be mysterious.”

You met her gaze. She had her lips curving into the kind of smirk that usually got her out of trouble.

You convinced herself you weren’t jealous. Yet you still want to drag Alice Cooper to a debate stand and argue with her on why the shade of her blush on looked like expired strawberry yogurt.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

It was rare for you to be in the locker rooms. But you and Paige were on your way to her Jeep when she remembered her Math homework.

You both walked back and crossed the field.

The locker room smelled faintly like sweat and cheap deodorant. You had to scrunch your nose and close your eyes to get use of it, even for a couple of minutes.

Paige yanked her locker open as you took small steps toward her and peeked on the mess inside.

“You’d think the star forward could remember basic Algebra?” You teased, leaning against the row of lockers.

Paige shot you a look. “Trust me, the only numbers my brain wants right now are goals scored and minutes played.”

She rifled through a pile of loose papers and crumpled socks, then paused. Her voice dropped lower. Like she wasn’t entirely sure why she was saying it out loud, not entirely sure if she was allowed to even say it.

“Sometimes it feels like that’s all people see. Me running around kicking a ball. Like if I wasn’t good at it, I’d be… less.”

You got caught off guard by the vulnerability of the tone. You froze because Paige almost never cracked open the confident version of herself. You wanted to engulf her in a hug and shield her from those who expected too much from her.

“You’re more than that, P.” You said with conviction, wanting to strip her out of her vulnerability. “Way more.”

Paige looked at you. Her cheeks were flushed pink.

You were afraid you said too much. But instead of getting angry at you, Paige let out a laugh. For her, it was better than admitting anything she truly felt.

“Careful. If you keep complimenting me like that, I might think you have a crush on me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Please. You’re insufferable enough as it is.”

Paige grinned, tucking the rescued Math homework under her arm like nothing had happened. But the warmth in her chest bloomed, no matter how quickly she tried to hide it behind the joke.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

You rarely get nervous in debate competitions, so you didn’t understand why you kept smoothing your skirt for the tenth time. Your coach looked at you worriedly as you adjusted the mic at the podium.

This was it.

The regional debate tournament. Months of preparation for this big event, and all you had to do was not pass out from a hundred students and teachers from different schools.

Your opening line was solid. The next few sentences flowed. Then you caught the eye of a judge who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. Your words began to blur. You felt the clock on the wall tick louder. Everything felt like it wanted you to fail. Panic crawled up your spine.

And then you saw her.

Paige Bueckers.

Your best friend. She was sitting in the middle of the crowd. A little out of place in a baseball cap and a Nike hoodie surrounded by crisp blazers and eyeglasses. Her grin was wide enough to calm your heart.

She mouthed three words with absolute conviction.

You got this!

Your lungs filled like you had been holding your breath since you walked up to the podium. The next sentence came smoother. Then you found your rhythm, your confidence, and your fire.

By the time you closed with your final point, the applause was more than polite. It was impressive.

Later, in the hallway outside, Paige was waiting with a bouquet of flowers for you and a smug on her face.

“You killed it! Good thing I was here as your lucky charm.”

You scoffed as she handed you the flowers. “So what, you’re my secret weapon now?”

“Pretty sure you’re the genius with a trophy. I'm just a supportive and sexy best friend.”

“You skipped practice to just come here and annoy me?” You pointed out.

Paige shrugged. “Worth it.”

You shoved Paige’s shoulder playfully before she wrapped you in her arms.

“Thanks, P.” You whispered.

She squeezed you in response.

You were supposed to win for yourself. But in some small, undeniable part of you wanted to win because Paige was here and she believed you could.

And that part was louder than the applause.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

The debate team meeting dragged later than anyone expected. It was a little over 6PM and by the time you walked out with your backpack, the parking lot was mostly empty.

Well, except for the beat-up black Jeep idling under a streetlight.

Paige was leaning against the driver’s side. Her face lit up and she gave an exaggerated wave when she spotted you.

It was comical to look at as she looked like she was trying to wave an ice cream truck.

You sighed dramatically on her antics. You crossed the lot and flicked her forehead before moving to the passenger’s side.

You slid in and fefore you could even buckle your seatbelt, Paige got in and cranked up the stereo. Paige smiled at you as the opening notes of a Drake track poured out of the speakers.

“You really have a shitty taste in music.” She laughed at that and pulled onto the road.

In first ten minutes of driving, you and Paige shared the comfortable silence and let the music do the talking. You looked at her drumming the steering wheel as she bobbed her head, albeit off-beat and exaggerated.

You laughed at her silliness.

Then, as if she could feel your attention on her, she asked out of nowhere. “I don’t get why you love debating. Doesn’t it get exhausting to argue?”

“I don’t argue, honey.” The endearment slipped through casually. “I win.”

Paige laughed so hard. “Okay, debate queen. Remind me not to get into an argument with you.”

“You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Rude!” Paige glanced at you, still smiling. “But accurate.”

The road stretched out in front as neither of you called it what it was, but everything about the night felt like a first date disguised as a car ride.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

Lunch in the cafeteria was never cinematic. It was loud and chaotic. The hum of a hundred conversations all clashing at once was peak a teenage dream.

Paige sat across from you. She was showing you a magic trick with a coin that her uncle taught her last night. It was childish and dumb, but you entertained her anyway.

Then it happened.

Paige's soccer teammate, KK Arnold, leaned over and grinned. “So, are you two dating or what?”

Paige dropped the coin accidentally and it rolled on the floor. Her teammates turned their way and waited for the answer.

Paige laughed in a panic state.

“Relax! We’re just friends.” Paige said, throwing it out with ease.

She expected you to smirk, to roll your eyes, or maybe even toss a sarcastic comeback. Instead, you didn’t look up and Paige caught the way your shoulders stiffened.

It shouldn’t hurt becuase it was the truth. But in a way it was not.

These past few weeks, your friendship with Paige had been clouded with a line neither of you were willing to cross.

And that should be about it. It shouldn't really hurt.

But it did.

The conversation at the table moved on. The jokes shifted elsewhere, but Paige’s mind stayed stuck. She replayed her own words and the easy dismissal. It felt like she had lied in front of everyone.

The truth wasn’t really that simple.

Later, the thought gnawed at her when she was walking to class. She remembered the way you froze. The way you stopped smiling. The way you hadn’t looked at her way.

Paige wished she had said something different. Something braver.

Like Yes.

She wanted to admit it in the middle of that cafeteria, loud enough for the whole school to hear.

But what was there to admit when the two of you hadn’t been honest to one another?

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

The scorching heat of the afternoon sun was brutal. Paige was not feeling the practice runs. She was still thinking of yesterday’s lunch incident.

The ball zipped past her ankle before she even registered the sting. There was a sharp jolt that shot up her leg. It didn’t register to her that the grass was already beneath her. The green blades were pressed against her cheek.

A whistle was blown as practice came to a stop. She heard footsteps as her teammates circled her with a mix of worry and curiosity.

“Paige, stay down.” She heard her coach order.

He was about to bend and check on her when you beat him to it.

You stormed across the field when you heard her scream and saw her hit the ground. You weaved your way through her teammates and practically shoved her coach aside.

“Paige, are you okay?”

Your hands cradled her face as you tried to look into her eyes, assessing her pain.

Paige blinked at you. Surprised, yet relieved. She was suddenly less concerned about the throbbing pain in her ankle and more about the fact that you were sporting a wrinkle on your forehead from worry.

“Chill, Doc. I think it’s just a sprain.”

You didn’t laugh. You were determined even more to check on her. You shifted so you could take a look at her foot.

You heard her coach mentioning about ice and trainers, but you ignored him.

“Can you get up?” You asked.

Paige thought of laughing it off again, but she heard the whimper in your voice. So, she just nodded to ease your worry.

You looped her arm on your shoulders, steadying her while the rest of the team went speechless on your strength, considering you were five inches shorter than your best friend.

You could feel Paige leaned in. And definitely, you could feel her smile as she leaned against you and hopped on her good foot. She braved every step as she milked the moment of having her arm around you.

You weren’t aware her chest felt suspiciously full, like someone had inflated a balloon inside her ribcage.

Once Paige sat down on the bench, you crouched in front of her. “Are you sure it’s just a sprain?”

Paige smiled through the sting. “Positive. But if it gets me this much attention from you, I might fake one next week too.”

You finally cracked a smile, worry leaving your soul as you shook your head. Paige was impossible.

But in that moment, she felt untouchable. Not because of how good she was at soccer, but because you had made the world stop for her.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

Paige had been working on the playlist for months.

She treated it like it was something she would be graded for. The titles got rearranged from time to time. Some songs got deleted. There was one Taylor Swift track that got eliminated because the chorus hit closer to home.

She was careful with her choices, making sure to leave little hints she hoped you could catch without her spelling it out.

She had been renaming the playlist to fit the situation. It started too romantic. Then she switched it up into something poetic but too vague.

Then she finally gave in and settled for something simple. Okay, maybe it was something stupid. But it was relatable.

You Can’t Argue With This.

Subtle enough to be casual, but also just weird enough that if you scrolled though, you wouldn’t think what would hit you.

When Paige sent you the link of the playlist, she dropped her phone and started pacing in her bedroom. It was too late to take it back.

You were in the middle of doing your Chemistry homework when you received the playlist. You thought of listening to it later but something inside you made you close your workbook and reached out for your Airpods.

The first three tracks were classic Paige. They were loud and full of energy pop that you could hear even without your earphones.

Then came the softer stuff. You could actually listen to the lyrics without letting your ears bleed. You closed your eyes as you listened to a few songs about staying when everyone else was leaving. You hummed when you felt the lyrics about finding a person who felt like home.

Unconsciously, you were starting to smile.

With every transition, your heart started to beat faster.

This was not random at all.

You opened your eyes when you realized Paige had basically written her feelings in the form of a playlist.

By the time the last track queued up, you braced for another sentimental ballad. However, you furrowed your brows when you heard Paige’s voice.

You heard a slight shuffle of a mic and then movements like she had recorded it under her blanket.

“So.. Prom? With me?”

The words hung in your ears as if the universe had glitched and handed you everything you wanted wrapped in an awkward voice memo.

You laughed out loud, not knowing what to do with the overwhelming feelings. You started to play the tracks once again from the start because it felt too surreal.

Once you had embraced the reality that your best friend just asked you to prom in the smoothest yet most Paige way possible, you decided to end her suffering and called her.

Paige answered even before the first ring ended. You can hear her heart pounding against her ribs.

“So, all that effort for a playlist just to ask me out? Bold.”

“You’re worth every effort.” You can feel her smile. “So, what will it be?”

You laughed and ended the call.

Before she can ring you back, you sent her a voice memo.

“I definitely couldn’t argue with that. So, yes to prom with you.”

#paige bueckers #paige x reader #paige x you #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fanfic #jay's shit

218 notes · View notes