"Alright, I need two team captains. Who wants to volunteer?" Spencer questions all of us, her gray eyes scanning the expanse of our large group.

I do my best to huddle behind some of my peers who are even taller than Scott. They blocked my body from Spencer's view, and the fact that they were raising their hands helped to take any possible attention off of me.

I didn't want to be here. I wanted to leave and get somewhere to clear my head.

My eyes kept traveling over to Hayden as she stood on the opposite end of the group from me, her hands crossed over her chest and head bowed. She looked like a puppy left out in the rain and I hated it. I hated myself for making her feel that way.

I liked Hayden, and I was pretty sure on some level she liked me, or at least she did. It took only a second of rash decision-making on my part to ruin that.

"Diaz," Spencer calls out, picking one of the boys near me.

Despite the fact that he was a junior, Josh was almost always in the same classes I was. He tested so low that he had to be placed with sophomores, yet he still did the work in a passable fashion that was acceptable enough not to be held back. In some way, it was impressive.

He flexes proudly when he stands up front, ecstatic over such a superficial and pointless achievement as team captain.

Spencer continues to search for her next candidate and I visibly shrink, being sure I can't be spotted. Spencer was the type of person who took pleasure in calling out those who never raised their hands, which makes it no surprise when she calls out her second pick.

"Romero!"

Hayden's head snaps up at her name being called, disappointment flooding her soft features. She doesn't argue despite that, knowing Spencer wouldn't listen to it anyway, and shuffles to stand beside Josh. Spencer makes the two of them compete in a short round of rock-paper-scissors, with Hayden coming out as the winner, meaning she got to pick her team first.

I don't bother to pay attention after that, positive that Hayden will let Josh claim me as his. She could use that as an excuse to deliver some payback, pummeling me with rubber balls. I wouldn't even fight her on it, as I understood it'd be a well-deserved punishment.

To keep myself busy, I track Spencer as she leaves us. She settles onto one of the player benches close to the bleachers, not bothering to stick around. Her teaching for the hour had apparently concluded within the first five minutes of class.

She props up an open wide-brimmed umbrella on her shoulder to keep out of the harsh sun and allows her hands to be free as she stuffs her nose into a book with fraying edges. The cover depicted a ripped long-haired man riding on the back of a white steed, so I assumed it wasn't exactly the most thought-provoking piece of literature.

"Jac."

Hayden calling my name ends my internal judgment for Coach Spencer, though only for the time being.

I'm confused as to why she's done it until everyone separates, creating a straight path for me to her. Hayden's picked me first for her team. I swallow my surprise and swiftly join her, getting everyone's expectant and impatient stares off of me for how long I had taken to react.

When everyone's busy waiting for Josh to make his pick, Hayden glances in my direction. She offers a barely-there smile, testing the waters between us. I mirror the gesture, hoping it comes off as cordial and apologetic rather than constipated. She seems satisfied, and her mood brightens as she and Josh take turns building their sides.

Once our class of thirty is split into two, the divide in how Josh and Hayden operate is obvious.

His side is filled with the guys from the swimming and wrestling teams, all of them having pounds of muscle and more than a couple of feet on top of the rest of us. Everyone else that he's chosen is people that he's friends with who share in his lack of humility. Hayden had done the opposite, settling for people who excelled academically and were the type to not even step on an ant.

It was clear who had the greater chance of winning.

We all take the field, standing on opposite sides of the area Spencer sectioned off. Tiny colored cones separate the chunk of grass to create a divide. Each one has a cluster of dodgeballs between them, ripe for the picking.

Josh and his teammates hunch over and begin to mockingly paw at the ground like bulls. I roll my eyes at their display and choose to hang behind my group, deciding to be more of an observer than an active participant.

Unlike them, I preferred laying low.

It takes Spencer a while before she realizes that we're ready, only looking up when her name is called. She gives a half-hearted blow of her whistle before returning to her book, and at the sound, all hell breaks loose.

Josh and his team charge for the line, bellowing and howling as they do so. It's some kind of twisted intimidation tactic that keeps the more gentle players on our side from reacting efficiently under the sudden overloading of their senses. It works too, as the majority of the balls end up in their hands.

Within the first couple of minutes, our team falls from fifteen to eight while they stand strong at twelve.

I'd only gotten out one person because I was staying on the defensive, catching one of the balls that came my way. I still held onto it in case I decided to participate. Part of me was debating whether or not to actually put the effort in, or to let myself get struck out of purpose so I could lounge on the bleachers.

My deliberation comes to an abrupt pause when an elastic pang sounds, followed by a solid thud as Phoebe falls to the ground after a dodgeball collides with the center of her face. The force is enough to send her staggering, and when she's planted in the soil her hands immediately fly up to clutch her nose.

The universe had a demented sense of humor for giving Phoebe exactly what she wished for.

Our team rushes to surround her, Gwen at her side in an instant.

"Oh my god," she gasps as her sister's nose begins to have a steady stream of blood flowing from it.

"What? Is it bad?" Phoebe panics, her eyes darting between each and every one of us as she searches for an answer.

She lets her hands hover over her nose to allow us to see the damage better. It wasn't broken, but she would have a dodgeball-sized bruise on the middle of her face for the next couple of weeks.

"Could be worse," I reply honestly, before shrugging. "Could be better."

Phoebe lets a sharp and fearful whine come out from the back of her throat. Apparently, I still hadn't figured out the logistics of reassurance. Gwen gives me a scolding look for it and I offer a sheepish gesture in return, genuinely not meaning for that to happen.

Hayden pushes her way out of the loose circle we created, stomping over to Josh who had been the one to throw the ball. Not only was his hit illegal, but he had also been directly across from Phoebe when he struck her in the face, which contributed to the hit being so powerful.

He and his team were huddled up, and it almost seemed like they were discussing whether or not to take us all out now with our guards down with the way they kept peering over at us. Such a pathetic play wouldn't surprise me considering Josh didn't even seem remorseful for what he'd done to Phoebe, only amused.

Spencer hadn't even looked up from her book once either, still sitting there reading as the benched players try to capture her attention. I bet in Josh's mind her lack of knowledge meant he got away with it.

"What the hell is your problem?" Hayden pushes at Josh's shoulder.

"What?" Josh snaps, though his angered demeanor is only a lie. A huge smirk paints his face to reveal that he knew exactly what he did wrong, and he didn't feel an ounce of guilt.

I walk over and stand at Hayden's side, openly leering at Josh.

"No headshots. Everyone knows that," I say in an even voice. People like him thrived off getting reactions from others.

Josh merely scoffs, acting so above it all.

His cockiness falters when Spencer finally comes over, those who had been on the sidelines alerting her to what happened.

Gwen had helps Phoebe to stand, allowing her to lean on her shoulder. They exchange a few words with Spencer that I can't hear from where I am, but their conversation ends with the two sisters walking in the direction of the school, presumably going to the nurse.

Their absence drops us from eight to six.

"Alright, line back up!" Spencer calls out before heading back to the benches.

The crowd hesitantly disperses as everyone goes to their previous locations, following the order. Hayden and I remain in place, both gaping at the back of Spencer's head.

"Is she seriously not going to do anything?" Hayden asks.

Our eyes drift, watching as Josh all but gloats with his friends. They're definitely praising Spencer's incompetence, as it's just allowed him to get away with a week of detention, possibly even a suspension.

I wasn't close with Phoebe. At most I've had two conversations with her, but they were both enjoyable. She's kind and friendly, and more than deserving of some revenge even if she couldn't be the one to deliver it.

"If he doesn't have to play by the rules, neither do we." I say to Hayden, my voice low so Josh and his team don't overhear.

Any tension between us dissipates as we share a mischievous grin.

"I'm in."

Those who had been out did us the favor by resetting the game, placing the balls back into their original place between the cones. Each team backs up on our opposite ends of the field, everyone preparing themselves to sprint once Spencer blows her whistle. She's in her own world again though, and despite some people calling her name, she doesn't react.

We use that to our advantage.

"Go," I whisper, Hayden and I taking off without any actual start to the game.

Our team is confused but they follow anyway after a beat, the six of us diving for the balls on the dividing line, shoving as many of them as we can onto our side of the field.

"Hey!" Josh shrieks in refusal.

His head whips in Spencer's direction, seeking some sort of administrative interference. When he catches on to the fact that the blessing of her being oblivious has now become a curse, and his team is practically dead in the water, he orders them all forward.

They aren't even halfway to the line before we knock them down from twelve to seven. Unfortunately, our overpowering triumph doesn't last long as some of our opposition has the smarts to catch the balls thrown their way, taking out a pair on our side.

We have to fall back now that there are only four of us, allowing them to collect the balls we hadn't. It's not much ammo on their end but it's still enough to leave us scrambling.

"What do we do?" Hayden pants as she deflects the hits thrown her way.

"No rules, remember?" I breathe out before whipping the ball within my grasp at one of the opposing boys. I aim below his waist and when the hit lands, he lets out a high-pitched squeak before keeling over on the grass.

The boys in the area groan in sympathy, even some of the girls too, as he lays there whimpering.

I start to doubt my actions because of it. Have I gone too far again? Did I let my temper get the best of me twice in less than an hour? I end up not feeling the need to dwell on either question when Hayden's maniacal cackle pulls me from my thoughts.

She's not only amused by my actions but encouraged by them, resuming our assault with new heat.

This time when she sends her ball flying, I swear I hear it cutting through the air because of its speed. It connects with one of the stomachs of a rival girl and she's sent staggering for at least six feet. Hayden and I both pause momentarily, her sharing in my surprise at her own strength to do such a thing.

We shake it off quickly, getting right back into the thick of it so our guards aren't down for long.

The two of us begin to openly mock Josh and his team, laughing at their expense when they either get struck out or miss our bodies entirely with their rushed aim. As we continue to play, I actually start to enjoy myself because of it.

Hayden doesn't reprimand me for using my skills irresponsibly, nor does she caution any morals as we deliver a hypocritical form of justice. We relish in their fear and mild pain, and we do it happily.

Soon both of our teams fall until only three people remain. Hayden and I against Josh.

He gathers all of the balls on his side and keeps them at his feet for easy reach. He rapidly fires them in our direction and it's clear that he's lost himself in the heat of the moment, only zoning in on getting one of us out without any real strategy.

We narrowly dodge his throws as some of them actually do cut close, but we don't have to worry about that for long as Josh goes to reach for another ball, only to find that they're all on our side.

His sweaty face pales as he falls into his own trap.

Reaching down, I pick up one of the balls he attempted to strike us out with. I toss it in my hands a few times before presenting it to Hayden as if I were a peasant gifting royalty.

"Do you want to do the honors?" I ask formally.

Hayden gasps, putting on a falsely prim attitude as her hand clutches her chest.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly. You go ahead."

"No, I insist."

"Honestly, it should be you-"

Josh cuts into our sarcastic performance, his face twitching with anger.

"Will the two of you get it over with already?" He fumes impatiently.

I almost burst out laughing over the fact that he was standing there, waiting for us to finish him. He could have stomped off the field. I was unsure of whether or not that was because he was willing to accept his punishment or if he was simply this clueless.

I figured it best not to mention it either way for the sake of our pleasure.

"We could do it together?" Hayden suggests, bringing a genuine smile to my face. "Sounds good to me."

She mirrors my content while bending over, grabbing a ball of her own. When she rises she aims her eyes on Josh who has yet to move.

"You got any last words?" she teases.

Josh scoffs, but then a crude smirk grows on his lips.

"Yeah, I actually do." His smirk slips into a sneer. "Why don't the two of you go fu-"

Hayden and I fire in unison, aiming for Josh's head. It cuts his tantrum short, and the sound of his body colliding with the ground signals the conclusion of our game, and the fact that we've just won.

---

"Whoever said violence isn't the answer is a total loser." Hayden laughs cheerfully as the two of us exit the locker room together, both reminiscing over our victory. It brought a smile to my face to picture Josh getting knocked off his feet from our hits, a cruel act of retribution.

"I hope his eyes swell up," I sigh dreamily.

Hayden turns to me, not bothering to pay attention to where she's walking. She doesn't falter in her step though, her moments fluid as she maneuvers her way through the crowd of students around us who were transferring to their next period.

"Are you kidding me? His entire face is gonna look like one giant allergic reaction."

"It'll be an improvement," I quip, earning another howl of laughter from Hayden. It makes my guilt sink in as I think back to earlier and how I felt the need to be pointlessly brash, wanting to hurt her when she had been nothing but decent to me.

Hayden had seemingly moved on from it. She openly joked with me and didn't bring it up, but that didn't mean it was an insignificant moment.

There was something inside of me that catered to violence, and though a bump on the shoulder wasn't the same as full-out murder, it was a sign to me that my mental dam had a few cracks in its foundation that needed to be repaired before a flood burst through.

I wasn't the best at apologizing, I didn't have much practice with it, but now was as good of a time as any to get some.

I swallow my pride as I come to a stop, Hayden facing me when I'm not at her side anymore. Her face displays her confusion, wondering what I was doing. My mind starts to panic as I think of what to say, so I start stumbling over my words to get something out before I end up saying nothing at all.

"Hayden, um, I - I'm sorry for what happened earlier before the game-"

"Are you hungry?" Hayden interrupts me.

I pause, even more confused than she had been a second ago. She doesn't follow her question up with anything else either, only stands there, waiting.

"Um, kinda," I answer honestly, unsure of what else to say. "Why?"

"You wanna skip school and stuff our faces?" she asks, wearing that same mischievous spark in her eyes that she had on the field.

I know it's my responsibility to refuse.

Scott had been adamant about me staying in school, doing the right thing, and keeping my hands clean. For some reason though, being around Hayden, I didn't feel the need to keep up with that picture-perfect image of myself that I was supposed to strive for.

"You like burgers?" I grin. "I know the best place in town for them."

~

||| A/N |||

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