Did something happen during her own practice? Did someone give her a hard time? His mind races through possibilities as he starts weaving his way across the court, dodging stray basketballs and discarded water bottles.
"Dipa?" James calls out again as he gets closer, keeping his voice even and friendly. He doesn't want to startle her more than she clearly already is. A few of his teammates, packing their bags near the benches, gnce up. "Hey, James, catch you ter!" one calls out.
James gives a quick wave back before refocusing on Dipa. "Hey," he repeats softly, now standing a few feet away from her. "You good? Everything okay over here?"
His brain immediately jumps to the most logical conclusion, the thing everyone knew she was intensely focused on: the Judo Nationals. The sting of falling short in a final match can linger, big time. "Still feeling kinda down about the tournament loss?" he asks gently, trying to sound supportive, not dismissive. "Look, don't beat yourself up about it. Seriously."
He leans slightly against the doorframe, trying to appear casual. "Silver is insane, especially for your first time at Nationals! Anyone who knows anything about Judo knows that. And dude, everyone was talking about how you fought out there. Like a total warrior. That final match? Brutal. You left it all on the mat." He hopes the reminder of her strength helps.
Dipa shakes her head, like, really fast – a quick, sharp negative. Her gaze drops instantly to the worn pattern on the gym floor, tracing it with her eyes for a second before flicking back up to meet his, almost reluctantly. It's like eye contact is physically painful right now. "No, James... I mean, yeah," she concedes quickly, a shadow of that competitive fire flickering across her face for just a moment, "that still kinda stings, not gonna lie."
"Losing the final like that? Ugh." She makes a face, then visibly pushes the thought away.
She takes another deep breath, fiddling nervously with the zipper on her bag. "But this... this is completely different. Something else entirely." She pauses, biting her lip, clearly wrestling with whether or not to continue.
"Look, this is gonna sound super random, and probably really stupid, but... I... uh..." She trails off, gncing past him towards the emptying gym. "I wanted to ask you for help."
James blinks, his brow furrowing deeper. Her intense nervousness feels way too big for just lingering disappointment over a silver medal. "Help? Yeah, of course. Anything. What’s up?" His mind immediately flips back to sports mode, trying to bridge the gap between basketball and Judo.
"Need help with conditioning drills? Footwork stuff? We could work on those explosive takedown setups you were talking about st month, maybe add some plyometrics for power...?" He starts rattling off ideas, genuinely wanting to assist.
"Not Judo," Dipa cuts in again, her voice suddenly sharp, making him pause mid-suggestion. Whoa, okay. A definite blush starts climbing her neck, visible even in the gym's slightly dim lighting. It spreads up to her ears, making them look pink.
"It's... okay, please don't ugh..." She takes one more fortifying breath. "It's about... fitness. Just... general fitness."
She says the words like they taste weird in her mouth.
