I took a deep breath. Just show him the drawings, Micah. I nervously handed over my small portfolio. The upperclassman—Jake, he said his name was—took it out of my hands and began to flip through it. I took a step back and crossed my arms, pushing my glasses up my nose.

"Rookie!" Cap's voice sounded from down the hallway. I looked, and saw his head standing tall above the rest of the bustle of the after-school student traffic. He raised his arm and pointed down at me. "Don't be late, right?"

"Right," I called back, "I'll be right there, Cap!"

Jake looked up from my drawings. "Football?"

I nodded. "Yea, I need to head down to practice soon; sorry I couldn't meet with you at a better time."

Jake waved a hand at me. "It's cool, dude, all I needed was to look at your portfolio. I could have done it over lunch or something, too."

"Oh…" I felt sort of let down as Jake thumbed through my portfolio at rapid speed.

After another second or two, he shut the folder and handed it back to me. "It's looking good, Micah," he said, "we'd love to have you join the club."

Any feelings of doubt or unhappiness I had just felt melted away. "R-really?" I opened the portfolio to a random page, looking down at the landscape portrait I had sketched from my bedroom window. "Thank you so much! That's awesome!"

Jake gave me a thumbs-up. "Have fun at practice, dude!" He turned and started to walk down the hall.

"Hey!" I took a few steps and fell into stride with him. "Um, don't we…like…don't we have meetings or something? I need to know if I should tell coach I'm—"

Jake laughed, and I stopped walking. "Meetings, that's a good one!" He looked over his shoulder, stopping when he saw that I was no longer following him. "Hold on, you're not kidding, are you."

"Why would I be…kidding?"

He looked up and down the hall, scoffing quietly before stalking back towards me. "Look, Micah," he said quietly, "I know they told you that clubs are required to meet once a week, but, come on…" He gestured around the hallway, already mostly empty as students were headed home. "Nobody meets once a week. Hell, a non-athletic club is lucky to meet once a month."

"Really?"

Jake smiled. "Don't worry, dude! It'll still be on your college applications! And, we still compete in shows and stuff at the end of the year, so you'll still get a chance to win prizes and whatever!" He clapped me on the shoulder. "Have fun at practice!" He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the hallway, lost for words.

I had been stressing over this day for three years. Three years. 'Lucky to meet once a month?' I picked up one foot, flopping it forward exhaustedly. It wasn't fair. I took another step. How could that be the case? Another step. I couldn't have been delusional, something must have changed.

For most people, I'm sure this would be good news; free extracurriculars on your transcript? I bet it would have sounded like a dream come true. But I wasn't most people. Most people hadn't been dreaming of this day since they first picked up a pencil. Most people hadn't lost sleep worrying that their drawings wouldn't be good enough. Most people hadn't been hoping that joining the art club would give them an excuse to quit football.

Most people weren't as gullible as I apparently was.

"Micah!" Anna's voice drifted down the hallway towards me. "Hey! Don't you have practice?"

I looked up, seeing her standing in a group of people I didn't recognize. They were all staring straight at me, most of them confused or disgusted looking. "Yeah, yeah," I said quickly, my voice creaking. "I was on the way." It was strange to talk to her again; I hadn't seen her since the last time she'd been over. Well, we'd had history class a few times, but that doesn't totally count. We'd only texted, and I was slightly thankful for that; it had saved me from having to awkwardly dance around the task of pretending that I didn't hear what she had said on her way out that night. I cleared my throat and finished my thought; "I just had a thing to take care of first."

Anna's eyes widened, and she smiled. "Ooh! Are you talking about the art club thing?" I saw a few smirks crawl across the faces of the other students. I gripped my portfolio tight to my chest. Anna tipped her head slightly. "How'd it go?"

"I…um…well, I got in," I said timidly, "so, good?"

"That's awesome!" Anna clapped her hands together and wriggled free of the crowd. She swooped over to me and wrapped me in a hug, and I could feel my face start burning under the prying eyes of the gathered peoples. "I know how much you wanted to join the club; I'm so happy for you!"

I laughed weak. "Thanks," I fidgeted, breaking free of her arms. "I gotta run to practice," I said, "I'll…um—"

"No, no, go to practice! I'm sorry to have kept you!" Anna gave me a little push down the hall. "How about call me later? Okay?" She waved. "Talk to you tonight!"

I waved and stumbled away. Through the stagnant air, it was hard not to hear the murmur that floated up behind me and wormed its way into my head. "You seriously asked that loser to—"

The sentence was cut off by a sharp thump, like the speaker had been smacked on the shoulder. A second voice floated through the air. "You moron, he's barely three feet away!"

"You think I care?"

The rest of the conversation faded away into the background, but I'd heard all I wanted to hear. I wasn't surprised by what they said―I knew I wasn't the most popular dude―but it still stung. And Anna was with them. I hadn't heard her voice at all when the other students had started talking behind my back. I shook my head. She was about to say something, I'm sure; that other kid just talked over her. It was always in the back of my mind that Anna was too "cool" for me. She had lots of friends from all across the spectrum of schoolgoers, while I had one: her. She was pretty enough for the other pretty girls to want to keep her around, since that seemed to be the way things worked in the girl world. Then the pretty girls got the attention of the sporty, athletic guys, and since those were the guys that ran the campus, Anna and her girl friends were queens of the halls by association. And I―a glasses-wearing, anime-watching, jumpy, introverted, awkward, skinny shut-in―was, in comparison, a nobody. I never liked to think about it, but this was most likely the time that she would probably realize she could do better than me.

I slipped into the locker room, praying nobody would notice me as I slithered to my locker to get ready for practice. I shouldn't have been so hopeful. "Hey, Rookie!" One of the upperclassmen, a fullback, gave me a push in the shoulder, sending me reeling into the lockers. "What took you so long? I need my spikes brushed before can put them on!"

I swallowed, regaining my feet slowly and fixing my glasses. "I h-ha-ad a m-meeting—"

"The Hell is this?" He ripped the portfolio out of my hands and opened it roughly. His eyes barely stayed on the page for a second before he tossed it over his shoulder. "You really thought that nerd shit was more important than the team?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "Y'know, I should really help you learn what matters and what doesn't."

"Booker! What's the issue?" The fullback's head snapped around, his eyes staring straight into the "KNIGHTS" logo stretched across Cap's broad chest.

"Oh, hey, Cap," Booker said, pointing at me, "Rookie here was taking his sweet time cleaning my spikes; I may be late to practice, the rate he's goin'."

Cap reached out and inserted himself between Booker and me, giving the other boy a light shove. "Rookie, here, told me yesterday he was going to be running a little behind, so I told Coach. You, on the other hand, didn't seem fit to tell anyone you weren't going to be able to dress yourself in time." I watched Booker's eyebrows rise, then fall, then furrow. Cap gave him another light push. "G'on 'n get your spikes yourself; nobody ever forced us to clean spikes our first season, you won't be forcing anyone to clean yours."

Booker shook his head. "Whatever you say, Cap." He slunk away from the larger boy practically with his tail between his legs.

Cap stepped over to where my portfolio had landed on the floor and bent over to pick it up. He turned, looking over the pages slowly. He stood for a few minutes, thumbing through the drawings and sketches, and I hurriedly put on my pads and gear. I was lacing up my spikes when he shut the binder and held it out towards me. "Did you draw all this, Rookie?"

I looked up at him, confused slightly. I removed my glasses and put them in my locker. "Yeah," I said hesitantly, "why?"

Cap shrugged—rather, he shrugged as best he could with his pads on. "I'm just asking; they're really good. Did you show them to Jake from the art club? You'd definitely get in if you want to try that out."

I took the binder from him slowly. "Yeah, I did," I said, "that was the meeting I just had."

Cap smiled his wide, pearly smile. "Awesome, dude! Congratulations! Did you tell Anna yet?"

I practically threw the binder into my locker; my arm lost all motor control at the mention of Anna's name. "I-I, uh, I, um, Anna, uh…" I shut my locker hurriedly and grabbed my helmet off the top shelf. "Why, um, why do you ask?" Why not just tattoo "I'm in love with her" on your face? It'd probably be less obvious.

Cap shook his head. "Just a question, man," he said kindly, "I was just thinking she'd probably be excited for you."

"She…she is." I played with the chinstrap fasteners on my helmet.

Another toothy smile. "Good to hear," Cap said. He opened his mouth to speak again, but it was drowned out by earsplitting metallic crashes, whooping shouts, and thunderous clapping. It was the junior class, they were responsible for getting everyone pumped up before practices and games. Cap looked over his shoulder, where the players were beginning to thump into one another and crash their helmets together and bang on lockers. "C'mon, Rookie, let's go!" He put on his helmet and smacked his hands against the golden "A" on either side.

As Cap spun away and started slamming his massive frame into other similarly massive players, I sat in bewilderment in front of my locker. Of all the people to stick up for me, why him? Was it because I'm friends with his girlfriend's sister, or did he actually care? I slipped on my helmet not seconds before somebody tried to smack me in the head. As I followed the boisterous crowd out of the locker room and down to the practice field, my mind was full of over-analyzation.

And I still had to call Anna later. That didn't put my mind any more at ease.

*ringring-ringring*

*ringring-ringring*

*ringring-ri—*

"Hello?"

Breathe. "Hey, Anna."

"Micah! Hi!"

…

"So…how was practice?"

You were supposed to say something sooner, idiot. "Oh, uh, it was good. I did a lot of hitting drills, so I'm feeling a little beat up."

"Bummer; I can't imagine throwing myself around like that."

"You kind of get used to it after a while, I guess. I bet you'd be good at it." Oh my God, I couldn't have aimed any closer to my own foot.

"Hehe, maybe. I bet I'd look tough in all those pads."

She's making her 'grr' face, isn't she. "How'd your afternoon go?"

"It was so boring, Micah! Ugh, I just did homework for hours!" *thump* "I'm so bored!"

"Hah, well at least I called, right? That's something to do."

"No kidding."

…

"Micah?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing tomorrow? Want to come over and do homework?"

"Isn't tomorrow Friday?"

"No, tomorrow's Thursday; you've got your days mixed up."

"Oh, shoot. Sorry, I forgot what today was."

"That's okay! I do that all the time too!"

She's smiling; I can hear it. "Yea, I'd be happy to come over tomorrow after practice."

"Good! I have plans on Friday, and we're both going to be busy on Saturday, so tomorr—"

"Plans? With who?"

"Oh, just some people. They invited me out to a thing, and I wanted to go."

'People,' huh. The popular kids. "I see."

"Why, did you have something you wanted to do?"

"Huh? Oh, no, not particularly." I mean, aside from spend every waking moment with you before you wise up and stop hanging out with me. "I was just curious."

"Oh, okay!"

…

Don't make her start the conversation again. "So I, uh, I made it into the art club."

"Yea, you mentioned that! Congrats again!"

"Thanks. I was sort of worried I wouldn't get in."

"That's ridiculous, of course you were going to get in; you're an awesome artist!"

"Thanks. I'm glad you think so."

"I still haven't seen your final portfolio, you know."

"I thought you did?"

"Nope! You said you didn't want to show it to me because it wasn't done."

Oh, yeah, that lie. "I'll bring it with me tomorrow, then. You can look all you want." I'll have to take that portrait of you out of it, first.

"Yay! I can't wait!"

…

"Okay, then, I'll see you tomorrow, Micah!"

"Huh?"

"Well, you just got back from practice, right? You probably have a bunch of homework to do."

"If by 'a bunch' you mean whatever Yancey gave out, then yes."

"Ohh, you suck!"

"Haha, I don't know what to tell you, Anna."

"Have fun doing your stupid homework."

"Love you too." Funny, I could have sworn breathing a second ago.

"Haha! You know I was kidding, Micah."

Phew, risky move worked out fine. Now I'm free to keep on sulking. "I know, I know. I'm just playing on the banter."

"Well, don't play too much or you won't get your homework done!"

…

"Bye, Micah; have a good night! I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Bye, Anna."

*click*

"Uuuuuuuhoooooooh God…:

*click*