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The jacket was heavy in her backpack. She briefly contemplated taking it out, carrying it in her hands, but almost immediately dismissed the thought. She didn't want to be seen carrying it. She didn't want to be seen wearing it.
She wasn't prepared for what that would mean.
She had stared at that jacket in her closet for almost 15 minutes that morning, before impulsively grabbing it and stuffing it into her bag. And now as she walked to their school, she was intensely aware of its presence, as if it got heavier and heavier with each step she took.
She wasn't ready to dwell on what that meant.
She had already put too much thought into that damned jacket. She had gone so far as to talk to one of her best friends about it, because at some point, her thoughts had gotten jumbled up in her head, and she needed someone to straighten them out. Who better to talk to, than her best friend?
She should have known it was not that easy.
*
"You're overthinking this," Becky had said, munching on a granola bar while watching the volleyball team practice at their campus' court. "She's gonna love it."
"I don't know. I still feel like it's too soon."
"It's not. You've been dating, what, six months? I'm surprised this hasn't happened already."
She sighs. She should have realized that Becky wasn't exactly the right person to talk to, because…
"You pretty much live in Charlotte's varsity jacket," she points out, even going so far as to tug on the sleeve of the royal blue jacket that Becky was sporting that day.
Her best friend shrugged, then smirked. "It's comfortable. And she likes when I wear it. I like it when she's happy. Win-win all around," Becky said. "Come on, Bayley. This conversation is dumb. She's gonna love it. She's probably wondering why you haven't gotten around to giving her your jacket yet."
"She might throw it in my face," she mumbled back.
Becky snorted at that, and Bayley looked up. "Well, she could!" she said, a little hotly. "You know how Sasha gets."
"Don't be a dope."
"I'm not a dope."
"Yes you are."
"I'm not, you're the dope!"
Becky threw the wrapper of her granola bar at her, but Bayley ducked quickly to avoid it. "You're the dope, Bay," she said, then grinned at her friend. "Just give her the jacket, she'll love it. I promise you."
At that moment, a loud whistle blew. Becky took that as her cue to stand up, shaking bits of granola from her shirt and jeans. "Well!" she said, cheerful as always. "Time for me to get my girl, and time for you to woman up and get yours."
"Yeah," Bayley answered. "Hey, thanks Becky, you have your moments even if you're a dope most of the time."
Becky didn't bother to respond verbally; she only gave Bayley the middle finger then walked away. Bayley chuckled at that, and couldn't help but smile as she saw her best friend approach Charlotte. The tall blonde tugged on Becky's jacket, much like she did earlier, and her smile lit up their gloomy, damp gym.
She hoped Sasha would smile like that, too, when she gave her girlfriend the varsity jacket.
"Time to woman up," Bayley muttered to herself. She gave Becky and Charlotte a wave, before going her own way.
*
Her conversation with Becky had been last week; since then, Bayley's every waking moment had been consumed with thoughts of how Sasha would react when she gave her the varsity jacket. When she had made the basketball team last year, as a freshman, Bayley had treasured that jacket; she never thought she'd ever want to give it away. It was only a jacket, to be sure, and they received another version this year. But it was precious to her -- it was a symbol of her athletic achievement and she wanted to keep it to herself forever.
That is, until she began dating Sasha, and the image of her walking around campus wearing her jacket wormed its way into Bayley's mind. It would hang loose on her girlfriend, Bayley knew: the jacket was a little big on her . Sasha would be swimming in it.
She would look absolutely adorable in it, Bayley was sure.
At the same time, though, she still was not sure how Sasha would react . After six months of dating, she'd realized that her girlfriend wasn't that big on public displays of affection. Hell, it took a couple of months before Sasha agreed to go to one of her games. It wasn't that Sasha didn't want to support her; she was just a little hesitant to be known around campus as just the girlfriend of one of their basketball stars.
After all, Sasha was fiercely independent, and had a strong personality. It was just one of the reasons that Bayley fell for her. Plus, Sasha didn't exactly see her as the star point guard of their basketball team; she saw her as Bayley, the occasionally dorky, occasionally awkward girl who is always ready to give her girlfriend a hug whenever she needed it.
"Right," she whispered to herself. It was lunch time, and she and Sasha always ate together. "Time to woman up."
Their meal was uneventful, thankfully. She and Sasha discussed the previous night's homework; Bayley had needed some help in catching up after basketball practice. They talked about going to a movie after that weekend's game; Bayley hoped to hell that they would win so she'd be good company. They talked about walking home from school together; Bayley wanted to, but she had practice that afternoon so Sasha agreed to walk with one of their friends instead.
"Maybe tomorrow I can take you home?" Bayley said, sounding hopeful.
"Of course babe," Sasha answered. She finished the last of her lunch -- her usual turkey sandwich, Bayley had noticed, along with a salad -- before turning to face her girlfriend fully. "I'm excited for this weekend's game, I know you're gonna kill it."
Bayley smiled at that; once Sasha had started coming to their games, she'd become her biggest fan. It was both a blessing and a curse, to be honest. Becky had taken to sitting next to Sasha at games because her girlfriend would get too heated, too into it -- she would talk trash to everyone, up to and including their opponents' parents.
"Me too," she said. "And uh, about that. I got you something."
This was it, Bayley thought. Moment of truth. She grabbed the jacket out of her bag and offered it to Sasha.
"Here," she said, simple and short, sweet.
Sasha took it, looking a little confused. "Babe, this is your jacket from last year," she said, slowly, as if trying to make sense of the situation.
"Yup!"
"You're giving it to me?"
"I am," Bayley answered. She grinned at Sasha, who was looking at the jacket with what can only be described as a reverent expression. "I want you to have it," she explained. "This isn't me like… laying claim on you or whatever, nothing like that! I just thought you'd look cute in it."
Sasha was still staring at the jacket, her hands almost caressing the shiny satin fabric. She touched the school logo at the front, and the team's name at the back. She traced the No. 15 -- Bayley's jersey number -- carefully stitched in front.
Bayley was starting to grow apprehensive. "Sash?" she said, her voice quiet. "Don't you like it?"
Sasha finally looked up; to Bayley's eternal relief, she had a slight smile on her face -- in Sasha speak, that was equivalent to a wide grin. "I just don't know what to say, Bay," she admitted. "I know this jacket is important to you."
"And you're important to me," Bayley immediately said. "I really want you to have it." She paused for a bit. "You don't even have to wear it, I just… I just wanted you to have it, is all."
This time, Sasha did grin. "Thank you, babe," she said, before giving Bayley an all-too brief kiss. "I'll take good care of it, don't worry."
"I know you will," Bayley said. Her face fell a little as Sasha carefully folded the jacket then put it in her own backpack. She wondered if her girlfriend would ever wear it.
She quickly wiped the disappointment off her face when Sasha beamed at her, then stood up. "Walk me to class?" Sasha asked, and Bayley nodded quickly as the bell rang to signal the end of their lunch hour.
*
Practice was intense, as usual, and by the end of it all Bayley wanted was to plunge her entire body into an ice bath to soothe away the aches. Nights like this, she had to remind herself that she loves her sport, that she loves her team, and in the end, everything was worth it. She just has to get over the pain that she was feeling at the moment.
Some thirty minutes later, Bayley was walking out of the locker room, her hair still wet, her backpack across her shoulders, flip-flops on. She would have walked all the way out of the gym and gone home, had she not seen Becky sitting on the bleachers. Curious, Bayley approached her best friend; she didn't know the volleyball team had practice at this hour.
"Becks," she called out, before moving closer and sitting next to the redhead. "How come you're still here?"
Becky nodded towards the court. "Coach decided to hold a scrimmage," she said. "Wanna stay and watch with me?"
"Sure," Bayley said. "Can I get a ride with you and Char after? Sasha already went ahead."
"'Course," Becky responded. "And hey, I told you she'd love it."
"What?"
"The jacket?"
Bayley sighed. "Yeah, I gave it to her at lunch… Wait - what do you mean she loves it? Last I saw her, she was putting it in her bag." To Bayley's great confusion, Becky started laughing. "What?"
Becky gestured to her phone. "Check your Insta," she told her friend. "Sasha did not hold back."
Hold back on what, Bayley wondered, but she figured she'd get answers more quickly by checking her Instagram. Once she did, her eyes nearly fell out of her head.
"Wow."
"Exactly."
Sasha, indeed, did not hold back. She posted a photo of herself, on her bed, wearing Bayley's varsity jacket -- and not much else. As far as Bayley could tell, her girlfriend had shorts on, but she definitely wasn't wearing a shirt. She probably wasn't wearing a bra.
And her caption. Bayley had to blush. I see y'all hoes waiting for my girl after games. I see y'all waving your phones at my No. 15. I see y'all trying to get her attention whenever she's playing. Well let me make one thing very clear: she's taken. Very taken. By me. Kindly fuck all the way off.
"Oh wow," Bayley said.
"She stunted on those hoes," Becky said.
"Becky!"
"What? She did. Pretty much put a claim on you." Becky was laughing again. "She's sniping at people in the comments, too, Sasha is on fire today."
Bayley winced as she read a comment, something about not believing that "someone as sweet as Bayley could have such a potty-mouthed girlfriend." Then, she could only grin at Sasha's reply: "And what about it."
"What should I do?" she asked Becky, who just shrugged. "Becks, this is definitely not what I expected when I gave her the jacket, okay!" Bayley's voice took a bit of a panicked tone, and Becky relented.
"Look," Becky said. "When Charlotte gave me her varsity jacket, I wish I had immediately posted about it on Insta too. Would have saved me a lot of trouble with all the idiots trying to flirt with her." This, accompanied with an exaggerated eye roll. "Sasha's just being … proactive. Don't worry about it."
"That's nice and well, but you still haven't told me what I should do," Bayley said.
Becky shrugged. "Do whatever you want," she said. She turned to the court, where the scrimmage had begun; a smile broke out on Becky's face as Charlotte scored. At that point, Bayley knew that her best friend would be useless for the foreseeable future.
She bit her lip as she read Sasha's caption again. I see y'all hoes waiting for my girl after games. She had never seen any of them, but she would take Sasha's word for it. Well let me make one thing very clear: she's taken. Very taken. By me. At that, she just had to shake her head and grin.
She knew what to do.
Bayley double-tapped the picture, grinning wider as the heart popped up. Biting her lip, she typed in a comment, and watched as the likes rolled in.
Very willingly taken.