"What do you mean, you aren't gonna make it 'til tomorrow?" Alfred demanded into his cell.

"I'm sorry! I-I could've sworn your message said the 30th, not the 29th!" Canada gushed apologetically into the phone.

"Dude, no!" America exclaimed, clicking out of the call screen, before pressing on his messages. "I totally told you the..." As he reread the original message, he let out a short, entertained chuckle. "Never mind bro, I did say the 30th."

"You always do this..." Canada's voice trembled. Alfred snorted- he could perfectly picture his brother on the verge of tears at the other end of the line. He could be so sensitive sometimes.

"Well, I guess I'll just have find a hotel here or something. But this'll be pretty boring, Matt- I mean, what the hell is even in MetroDetroit?" Alfred explained, plopping down on the grass just off from the sidewalk.

"I'm sure you'll find some way to entertain yourself." Canada reassured him in a soft voice. "I gotta go though. I'll be in Windsor by tomorrow. Goodbye."

"Bye, bud." Alfred sighed as the phone call dropped. He shoved the cellphone back in the pocket of his jacket, pursing his lips slightly in frustration. Being bored was the worse thing ever. He had managed to free five days for his and Matt's birthday, and now he was alone with nothing to do in the middle of the Detroit suburbs.

Alfred glanced around curiously, adjusting his glasses slightly. He had no idea where he even was within the suburbs- the cities blended together all too easily for him. He was fairly sure he was in either Inkster, Wayne, Westland, or Garden City, but he figured it wasn't important if he was leaving for Canada tomorrow.

He was sitting on the green grass, which was thick from constant watering, near a walking track, that encircled about five different sized soccer fields, each one filled with kids playing and laughing. A bit away, there was a water park and a space-themed, giant play structure that little kids scurried through, on, and under. Alfred smiled slightly, finding some peace in being among the humans that called America home. He closed his eyes, leaning back and soaking up the warm light of the sun. Rarely did he ever feel as relaxed as this. It was blissful. Peaceful.

But his peace was short-lived.

"LOOK OUT!" A voice pierced the air, but Alfred only had time to open his eyes before something smacked against his back and bounced away. He turned in surprise, blinking a couple times as he saw it was a soccer ball that had struck him.

"I'm so sorry, sir. My sister doesn't know how to keep the ball in bounds." Said a feminine voice, which sounded strange to him- the tones seemed to almost conflict, as if the voice couldn't decide whether it wanted to be high pitched or deep. Alfred looked up from his spot in the grass at the source of the voice. It was a thicker set girl who was dressed in jersey shorts and a grey T-shirt. She had on shin-guards, thin stockings to keep them in place, and bright blue cleats. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but that did absolutely nothing to tame it. Fly-aways stuck out like a lion's man, framing her face, which was becoming tan from the sun. The rest of her hair sat on her neck and the very top of her back, and it was a mess of dark brown curls and waves. Her eyes stuck out against her tanned skin and dark hair- a pale blue filled with an apologetic and concerned light.

"Awe, it's all good, dude." He smiled, rolling the ball to her. She trapped it under her cleats, ready to take back off to the field. "Although I don't like that it was a soccer ball. So unAmerican." He laughed. Soccer was for Europeans and South Americans, after all.

The girl halted, glancing back at him with a mix of shock and confusion. "Excuse me?" She inquired, her voice semi-challenging.

Alfred found that amusing and his grin only got bigger. "I mean, soccer's okay and all, but it's no football or baseball!" He explained, pushing himself up off the ground. He tried not to laugh at the height of the girl- she was probably just barely pushing 5'4".

She didn't seem to notice the height difference what-so-ever, and a fire seemed to spark in those pale eyes. She let out a short, sarcastic laugh. "Soccer is football, might I remind you. The better one, I should add." She boasted.

"Ha! You wouldn't last a second in a real football game!"

"There should be a lot more to a sport than giving your competition concussions!"

"Shelby!" A voice shouted from the field, "Stop fighting with random people and bring the ball back!"

Shelby. So that was her name. Alfred had to admit, he found her quite interesting. Her mood had switched like a light switch- one minute, she was apologizing, the next, she was ready to fight. And she wasn't at all scared, despite the fact that she was literally talking to America.

Well, she didn't know that, but still, Alfred liked to believe he was pretty intimidating.

"How about I play? I'd love to school you at your own game, Miss Sass-a-frass." He teased playfully.

Shelby flashed a confident smile- it sort of reminded Alfred of Poland in a strange way. "You're on, blondie."

She turned, making her way up the gentle slope that led to one of the soccer fields. Behind Shelby, there were five other girls, whose eyes all instantly found Alfred. The country suddenly became hyperaware of his messy blonde hair and the fact that he was dressed so casually.

"Shelby, since when do you invite strangers to play soccer with us?" One of the younger looking girls asked, donning a smug smile.

Another girl, who looked strikingly similar to the first girl (only older), laughed as well. "And a boy, too."

Shelby rolled her eyes. "Shut up. He's here to play."

"Then he's on our team. Me, Bryce, and the guy versus you, Michelle, and Kaitlyn." The older girl decided.

Once the ball kicked off, Alfred realized he had never been so confused on what was going on in his life.

Well, that was kind of an exaggeration, but still.

Over the centuries he had witnessed quite a few soccer games, but he had never really played in one. It was much different, being in the middle of five girls shouting orders at each other with a soccer ball flying across the grass. He didn't even know what position he was in, but since they were only playing half-field, he could sort of play offense and defense at the same time. He found it frustrating whenever he saw the soccer ball at someone's feet in front of him, and suddenly, they were dribbling 3 feet behind him. He didn't really understand the mechanics or rules, he only really knew not to grab the ball with his hands.

Every time he found himself without the ball, he also found himself watching Shelby. She wasn't a superstar, but he could tell that she loved to play just by the way she took command of her team and directed the plays. Whenever she faced one of her opponents, she tried her best and wasn't afraid to knock her friends off the ball. A good 50 precent of the time, the other girls would end up on the ground.

Finally, one of his teammates, Jaret, decided she would drop back and had Alfred run up to forward. Unfortunately, that meant every time he got the ball, Shelby was right there too. She wasn't at all scared of facing off against America. Whenever Jaret passed the ball to him, Shelby would simply wedge herself between him and the ball and pass it to one of her teammates. Eventually, Jaret stopped passing to him all together.

After a good 20 minutes of playing, sweating, and regretting every hamburger he had ever consumed in his life, the opportunity arose for him to shoot when his other teammate, Bryce, crossed it to him. Eagerly, he kicked the ball towards the net with a hard strike. Unfortunately for Alfred, Shelby got in the way.

As for Shelby, she got a bad deal as well, because she had blocked Alfred's shot with her face. After the impact she staggered slightly, her eyes unfocused as she covered her cheek, halting her play and stifling a cry.

The other girls stopped the ball. "Shelbs, you good?" One of her teammates asked, taking a step forward.

Shelby nodded, but Alfred was close enough to see tears in her eyes and a pained flush appearing on her face. "Yeah, let's play." She muttered, keeping her hand pressed to the cheek where the ball had struck her.

"Maybe we should stop anyways. I have work in a couple hours, so I gotta head home." Jaret explained. The girls said their goodbyes, then Jaret and Bryce left. Michelle and Kaitlyn continued juggling back and forth between each other, while Shelby headed over to the bleachers- America wasn't far behind her.

"Hey, are you okay?" He inquired, taking a seat beside her.

She glared at him, but she seemed to be more concerned with her swelling cheek. "It happens." She stated. "I suppose next time I shouldn't take my eye off the ball. Your kick is hard as hell, by the way." She complimented.

Alfred smiled at the fact that she was still willing to speak to him and rushed to continue the conversation. "You played really good."

She smiled slightly. "Thanks. You did pretty well yourself, for someone who was so against soccer."

He shrugged. "It wasn't too bad. It's not all American, but it's cool, dude."

Shelby shook her head, chuckling slightly as she wiped away what was left of her tears. "What's up with you and America? I heard of having love for one's country, but it's like all you talk about."

Alfred glanced at her. Usually he wouldn't have a problem telling people that he was actually a country. But he found himself hesitant to tell her. He didn't want to scare her off or anything- he actually kind of wanted to see her again. She was interesting to him.

"I'm... just glad I live here, I guess!" Alfred exclaimed enthusiastically, knocking his shoulder with her's.

Shelby flashed an amused smile. "You're so annoying." She huffed teasingly, before gently elbowing him back. "But yeah, living here's pretty great."