A Little Athleticism Never Hurt.... Much.

Leave it to Cole to talk him into playing football. Even yet, leave it to Cole to talk him into playing football with a bunch of people still angry with him. Oh how he needs to learn to say no to the man really.

But then, he figures, this’d be a good way to distract himself from all the drama happening around him. Namely JD and Robbie.

So there he was – clad in (what might constitute as his favorite) a sleeveless hoodie, black shorts and winged shoes – sitting on the side of the school building overlooking the training field, waiting for the mastermind to come in view. He wasn’t really much of a sports guy, so he was rather surprised that he suddenly got nominated (almost unanimously at that) as the ‘quarterback’. Oh joy. He barely knew the first thing when it comes to participating in plays, let alone leading one. Let’s all hope he won’t mess this up then.

Especially since he told Cole that in order to make the games interesting, they should have a bet – have the loser (or the one in the losing team) serve as the other’s slave for at least three days, maximum a week.

Why did he have to suggest that before knowing what the game was? And why did Cole have to take him seriously at that?

In any case, there’s no turning back now. At least his teammates have usable powers. Telepathy to connect them altogether, telekinesis for those times when the ball needs to move a few paces to the left – yes, he’s not above using powers. Says games are all about using whatever advantage you have to win after all.

“What’s taking the man so long?” he grumbled, staring blankly at the field.

Zac spent the next five minutes idly playing with the training field grass, picking and throwing them around as Cole’s supposed ‘players’ (read: the other ones he’d managed to manipulate to play this silly game with) slowly trickled in, eventually forming a sizable little group.

Had things been a little normal around school still, the pompous teen’s usually all over the group once it forms, laughing, teasing and happily diverting all attention to him. But since he wasn’t Mr. Popular anymore (he had to accept that fact sooner or later), he simply resigned to looking at a distance, trying to distract himself but juggling his thoughts back and forth from possible (offensive and defensive) plays to witty insults to the late mastermind.

“Well, if he’s managed to somehow deceive you into coming here and not even play, I’d say you’re very well be one in the making,” Zac shrugged as he heard that familiar British voice, not even needing to turn to the side to know who it is. He picked up a few more blades of grass and aimlessly threw them in front of him, letting out a yawn of boredom in the process. “So what’d he tell you that convinced you to come here? Or did you just come here to poke fun at what Americans call football and insist that the game’s supposed to be played with a black-and-white checkered ball?”

Yes, he’s bored. So bored that his supposed comebacks haven’t had even the tiniest bit of wit in them.

A sigh of relief escaped the animal mimic when he finally heard Cole’s voice. He chuckled a bit, and ignoring Cole’s attempt at being shady, didn’t even try to lower his voice when he answered. “Well duh, even in my troubled state, I can still make a girl or two hopelessly fall in love with me.” Hooray confidence. “Whoever said I’m going to lose Kessler?” replied the teen with a smug grin, “So are we going to start this or are we going to exchange useless taunts and waste time for the next five minutes or so? Shouldn’t this all begin with a coin toss or something?”

Great way to show your team you know what you’re doing Zac.