"Ethan, please save me from this woman!"

After we beat St Albany's ass... mostly... our team had a short meeting on the field, and I'm arriving back at the bleachers to see Simon struggling down the steps with my sister clinging to his back. The guy's cheeks are flushed, and his eyes are filled with stress; my sister is trying to kill her boyfriend with affection.

"She keeps calling me senpai and oniiiiisan and Sy-chan and stuff, and she has too many arms and hands and legs. She's making me nervous!"

"Dude," I laugh. "She's been making me nervous since conception," I tell Simon, dragging Delia off his back and, wrapping my arms around her head, I bury her face in my sweaty chest. "I have to put up with her; you volunteered for this."

"Ewwww!" Delia objects, squirming in my grasp; I groan and let her go, stepping out of her reach when the pinching starts.

"Hey, Deli, I'll be your senpai any-." Jet's offer ends in a huff when I elbow him in the stomach, pretending not to notice, but I'm totally noticing and laughing at him while he doubles over, swearing at me.

"No," Simon says, pulling Delia towards him, accepting a couple of those many arms of hers he was complaining about just a second ago when they wrap around him. "I'll be whatever pie she wants me to be."

"You're my sweetie pie," Deli tells him, gazing up into his eyes, and I make loud puking sounds to show them what I think of their cringy conversation.

Kira is walking down the bleacher steps as if she's trying to curtsy on each one, and it suddenly hits me that she is not enjoying having her legs on display, wearing a short skirt, especially not when she's in an elevated position, and some of the guys from our school and St Albany are obviously enjoying the view way too much. Kicks has never liked showing off her body, not even her great legs. She always opts for longish short pants or jeans; when she's wearing a dress or a skirt, it's usually at least halfway down her calves.

I might enjoy the view too, but I don't enjoy her discomfort, so I bound up the steps until I reach her, then I turn around and walk down again, hiding her behind my back for the rest of the way.

When we finally reach the ground, I turn to her, spreading my arms wide. "How about a hug to congratulate your boyfriend on not only surviving this shitty match but also managing to score two tries?"

"Gross," Kira says, her eyes running over me from my dirt-streaked face, over my sweat and grime-covered rugby shirt, right down to my mud-clogged shoes.

"Gross?! I thought you'd be happy! You love ecosystems!" I exclaim, really disappointed now.

"Not hugging them!"

"Yeah, hugging them; you're always crawling around in them." I keep on giving steps forward, and she keeps on backing away. I'm marvelling at my brilliance; if I'm covered with an ecosystem, Kicks should have no issue crawling all over me too!

"Not when they're on you!" Oh, apparently, she does have an issue with it. That's a real downer.

"At least give it a try before you just reject the idea," I suggest logically, but she is not going to listen to my incredible logic.

"There is no power in the verse that will make me hug your gross ass!" she shouts and spins around, and runs away. Seriously, I am about ten times as fast as she is. When has she ever been able to outrun me, even when I'm tired, like now? No power in the verse, my ass! She just doesn't know the full extent of Ethan-Power!

I jog after her, taking my time to catch up.

"Stop running!" I yell when I'm almost within grabbing distance.

"Stop chasing me!"

"I'll stop chasing you if you stop running!"

"Well, obviously!" she says, and suddenly, there she is, standing still, and though I'm not running at full speed, there's no time to stop or redirect my course; the only thing I can do to prevent a collision that will launch Kicks to the moon or plough her into the ground is to pick her up and run with her until I'm slow enough to stop.

"Why did you stop?" I ask, still holding onto her and turning her to face me, I suddenly find myself looking into her eyes, and she is so close I almost have to cross my eyes to see her.

"To illustrate a point," she says, sounding breathless. Really, is she that unfit? We barely ran a couple of meters.

"Good job," I laugh, and without even thinking about it because, let's face it, all the blood rushed away from my brain to feed other more important organs, I bend my head closer to hers and nuzzle her neck, enjoying the softness of her skin and her delicate aroma.

"Gross! You're so gross! If you were any grosser... people would start calling you Ethan!" she shouts, and I laugh remembering when we were lying with our legs in the air next to the boulder, and she told me she read an article that said in seriously disgusting situations the word gross should be replaced with the word Ethan... or something cheeky like that.

To punish her for her insolence, I tilt her over backwards in a dip, causing her to shriek, before I pull her up and against my chest again. I love holding Kira, and now that she's pressed against me in the hug I wanted, I realise I should probably let her go now because I like it a little bit too much. I don't think she'd be happy if I acted with her the way Lurch is going on with his girlfriend, Tonia or, like Jet, sandwiched between Lisa and Joanie.

Kira doesn't like being the centre of attention and just showing up here looking all cute and sexy, and in the process of being my girlfriend, already placed her centre stage in the limelight. I don't want to let her go, but I don't want her to feel too freaked out, or she might call it quits and break up with me before our deal has properly started. I lower her to the ground, and she hastily takes a step away from me, which is the opposite of what I want.

This must be very strange for her. Kira and I are always messing around with each other... Okay, usually I'm the one messing, and she just happens to be around to suffer through it. We don't generally hug each other much unless something huge happened, or it's Christmas or a birthday or something. She's generally not big on hugs, especially not when it involves my body.

I should probably tone it down and make her feel more comfortable first, but it's hard. I love her so damn much, and it feels like a massive countdown timer hangs over my head, ticking down to the end of all my chances. This has to work!

Well, her top is no longer white; it is streaked with Ethan dirt. That should make her feel more comfortable. She's always telling me that I'm like an over-active dog, always charging around making everything and everybody dirty. She really knows how to dish out compliments. I love big over-active dogs.

"Now I need a shower," she grumbles and the number of times I've heard her say that after interacting with me will boggle the mind. See, normal already.

"I'm in," I grin, and she laughs, telling me to shut up, another completely normal exchange. I'm nailing this whole making-Kira-comfortable thing now. Just add some dirt and mild insults, and it's like we're not dating at all.

Wait... is that good or bad?

We beat St Albany's, not by far, just enough to make it convincing. There were no more outside-of-play attempts to make me part of the rugby field, and when the end whistle blew, my dad hurried over to hug me, pat my back and rub my sweaty hair. He high-fived and fist-bumped his way through my friends, and then he took off. One of his current projects is at a crucial stage, and he needs to be on-site. I'm really touched that he took the time to come see me play first.

Barn is running around near us, bouncing people flat with his big body. He calls himself Demolition Man when he does that, but that's just because he's insane. Fortunately, he only plays this game with guys big enough to handle it. If he bumped into Kira, she would disintegrate.

Burlap is sitting on the bottom bench of the bleachers. He glances up from packing his bag to give me a cocky grin. The bastard constantly alternates between being amused and teasing me and telling me I've got this and it will work. He is like a cheerleader cheering for both teams. I watch him high-five a couple of girls from his adoring fan club (he says there's no such thing, but I have evidence), his bag doubling as a defensive shield against them. The guy has always been a bit shy and nervous around girls; Tertia was the first one to break through his barriers, and look how that worked out for him. He is not letting anyone in again any time soon.

I take Kira's wrist, guiding her back to the bleachers, and she is being impossible, dawdling and leaning back, giving me a hard time until I give up and drop her wrist, turning to face her.

"Seriously, Brat," I growl, picking her up and lugging her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, making sure that I have her skirt nicely trapped over her bum to avoid flashing her underwear around. This is working so much better; we will reach the bleachers in no time at all.

"Wow," Kira says, pushing herself up so that I am now carrying a Kira statue, with her hips against my shoulder and her upper body sticking out above my head. "I could get used to this view!" she tells me. "I think you should carry me like this all the time. Being tall is really awesome!"

Kira is always complaining about being short. I can see that, at times, there might be some disadvantages to being small, but it is part of what makes her so friggin' cute. I laugh, putting her feet on the first row of seats so that we are now eye to eye.

"Wanna go for a swim?" I grin, dragging off my rugby boots so that I can pull on my favourite worn sneakers. I have so many new pairs, but when I'm just hanging around, not doing anything special and happen to need shoes while doing this big, fat nothing, I always go for these ones. I know I will have to retire them soon, but they're not dead until they're dead.

"Is that code for something nasty?" Kira asks, narrowing her eyes at me, making me wonder about the strange things she has brewing in her mind.

"You're a weirdo," I laugh, shaking my head. My sister and Sy are in the process of saying goodbye to people; they seem ready to leave with many other spectators who only came to watch our game.

"Hey, Deli, Simon! Are you guys coming to the waterfall later?" I call out to them over the hubbub of voices around me. Our game was the first for today, and the other teams' members were all sitting on the bleachers to watch. They are now milling about, going to their allocated fields and the next team to play on the main field is getting ready to start.

"No, we have a date with Simon's grandmother," Deli reminds me. She is sharing amused looks with Kira, clearly enjoying this whole new movie we're starring in. Delia has always been my greatest supporter in life; she has also always been my greatest tormenter.

"See you guys later," she says with a wink and, holding onto Simon's hand, they stroll towards the school gate. I glance at Kira, worried that she is going to jump off the bench and run after them, and I am not wrong to fear that; she has a pretty skittish look about her now.

"Can't we also have a date with your grandmother instead of going swimming?" she asks, and I scrunch my face up, trying to figure out how we're supposed to do that. Is she serious? She looks serious. No, she cannot be serious.

"My closest grandmother lives four hours away by car," I scoff and drag a fresh t-shirt from my sports bag. It's a faded old blue one, but it is clean and doesn't have any holes, making it prime property. I love comfort clothes. "Which one did you want to have a date with?"

"I like them both."

I know she does. All three of my grandparents have adopted Kira as their extra grandchild; they love and spoil her as much as they do Delia and me, and Kicks adopted them right back. I pull off my rugby jersey and use it to mop at least some of the sweat from my face, neck and chest before I pull the clean shirt on.

When I look up after stuffing the dirty jersey, shoes and my empty water bottles into my bag, Kira is staring at me with wide eyes, her mouth hanging slightly open. I spin around to see if I'm about to suffer a sneak attack from behind, but there's nothing there to cause her to look so shocked. Her face is back to normal by the time I turn to face her again.

"Aren't you going to watch any of the other games?" she asks when I zip my bag shut, shoulder it and wrap my free arm around her waist to pick her off the seat and set her feet on the ground.

"Not today; we're just playing friendlies."

"I thought you said this game was important!" she is frowning at me now, clearly not getting the significance of our first game of the year.

"Yeah, it's St Albany's first team... it's always important... even when it's not."

Rugby is not important. What is important is that Kira is my girlfriend, and she sacrificed her Saturday morning (holy time) to come watch me play a sport she has no interest in. I've answered many people's questions about our changed relationship on and off the field; the ice is broken, Kira is now part of our pack, and we are acknowledged as a couple by all my friends.

Kira doesn't really have many friends that she considers to be close. She has always been a bit of a loner, weaving in and out of groups but preferring Delia's company to any other kids'. Most people she is friends with are around today, and they seem to take this new development in their stride.

"Thanks for coming, Kicks," I say as we pass under the decorative brickwork arch of the school gate. The school crest is in the centre, with the words Corbin and High on either side.

"No problem," Kira smiles. "It was... interesting."

Instead of turning right and walking home along the road, we cut across the street to the fenced-off, overgrown empty lot opposite the school. It would be great if the town council manages to buy the lot and turn it into a path connecting to the circular walkway beyond it. It's just lying here, gathering weeds and blocking access to our shortcut home.

The circular walkway has a big fat swamp at its centre, with a raised boardwalk branching off and cutting through it to the backs of our houses. We always scale the walls to make the shortcut even shorter. I hold the wires at the front of the yard for Kicks to climb through, and we carefully pick our way through the yard to the back fence. Kira is clinging to the edge of my t-shirt, stepping where I step. As much as she loves nature and ecosystems, she doesn't want to become food for it.

A branch snapped off the old tree near the back fence and took a part of the barbed wire down with it, making it easy to exit the lot and step onto the walkway. Kira loves this boggy old swamp with its reptiles and other creepy crawlies. I'm not a fan, but I don't hate it either unless it's mosquito time. Walking along the raised wooden path makes it feel like we're lost in an overgrown swamp in the middle of nowhere. It's a great place to dump a body.

I glance at Kira's rapt expression. The macabre possibilities of the place are lost on her; she is enjoying this walk, looking at the gnarly plants, admiring insects flitting past us... and what the hell just ran across our path?! A crocodile-bird-frog? Probably nothing new or endangered because Kicks is reacting with the normal amount of interest; she is not jumping up and down and taking videos or trying to jump off the walkway to pursue it.

She is so beautiful, with her eyes lit up and sparkling happily; in a sudden surge of affection, I reach out and take her hand. I might as well have burned the girl with acid! She jerks away from me, nearly falling off the walkway and becoming an afternoon snack for mosquito larvae and all the predators that eat them. I grab her arm to stop that from happening and let go as soon as she is out of danger.

Wow! That went well!

"What are you doing?" I ask her, and now we're playing frown for frown, glaring at each other, though Kira is squinting into the sun, which might mean she is not trying to glare at me. There is a break in the tree canopy here, and sunlight is pouring down on us, painting fiery sparks in her reddish-brown hair.

"There's nobody here to see us now," she says, and I'm horrified to hear that. Doesn't she have any idea what our deal is?

"You're in the wrong teenage high school movie," I spell it out for her since she has apparently lost the script. "We're not pretending to be dating, Kira, doing couple-like stuff where others can see us so we can make them believe that we're dating. We're not faking it."

"No," she agrees, chewing on her bottom lip. "What are we doing, though? I'm not entirely sure. I mean, it kinda feels like we're faking..."

"Maybe you are," I grumble, really starting to feel upset now. I thought we were doing great and that she got the point. Now she's turning this into fake dating! How can she inspire me to become a better version of myself and the best boyfriend ever if we're faking it and not at least trying to be sincere? I'm not faking, far from it. I guess she's faking. That does make sense; she's not in love with me, after all. "I'm not. I'm taking this seriously; you should too, or there's no point to this."

"Does taking it seriously mean that we have to hold hands and be all touchy-feely and stuff like that? Seems kinda forced to me..."

"No, we don't have to. Of course, I'll never force you to do anything," I sigh, lightening up, trying to smile. I don't want her to feel pressured. If she feels forced into things, it will not be a good relationship, and she will want out as fast as possible, and I won't blame her. This is confusing. Maybe I was wrong to start this. I don't want to end up losing even the friendship we have.

"Kicks, I have no idea what we're doing either, which is probably what we're trying to figure out in the first place," I laugh, but it's a derisive laugh because I'm questioning my sanity and logic. I should just go home, take a shower and go swimming with my friends. I'm hot, I'm bruised, and I'm tired. Not a good combination for being patient. "Perhaps this is a stupid idea," I mutter, starting off along the path again, ignoring the chorus of mocking frogs and taunting insects. I'm such a blooming idiot.

I hear Kira's sneakers running along the wooden path, and suddenly the soft palm of her hand is sliding along mine, her fingers weaving between mine. This time I'm the one who nearly faceplants in the dirty, shallow water bordering the walkway.

Just like that, my irritation evaporates, replaced by pure bliss.

Our words have dried up; there's just me, Kira, and the swamp creatures. Her hand is small and soft in mine, and I am having difficulty getting oxygen into my lungs. I want this walk to last forever, even if I'm in danger of dying from dehydration and heat fatigue and am as dirty as sin.

When we reach the back walls leading to our houses, I help Kira up until she's sitting between my hands on their wall, looking down at me. My eyes stray from her flushed face down to her legs, and I suddenly wish she would just swing them over so that I can pull myself up and hold her until she is close enough to the ground to jump. Instead of doing that, she just sits there looking at me, apparently not realising how uncomfortable I am with her sitting up there, bracing herself on my wrists, while I don't know where to put my eyes.

"We should really work on our lists," she says, and I'm supposed to follow this conversation while I'm slowly being driven out of my mind by never-ending shapely tanned legs hanging enticingly in front of my face. I know Kira always has to analyse, prioritise, and sort things in her mind. Sometimes she does it on paper. Having lists of some kind might actually help her settle into our dating deal. I don't need a list; I know where I am in this project and what I want from it, but I'm up for creating one if it is going to help her, just sure as hell not at this moment where I'm confronted by her knees sitting in front of my face.

"Swim first," I grimace. "I'm too hot and tired to think straight now."

"I'll bring a notepad, and we can make our lists at the waterfall," she suggests, not caring that I'm about to overheat and die. I shake my head, moving my arms and prodding her legs to encourage her to get into the right position.

"No, the others are coming too," I explain. "Can't talk about this with them around. Actually, Kicks, don't tell anybody about this."

She is frowning at me, clearly not understanding why I would hide the truth from my best friends. She's right; normally, I tell them everything. We are each other's support group.

"Why don't you want them to know about our deal? Aren't they your friends?" As if she doesn't know that we've been inseparable for most of our lives.

"Yeah, but if they know, they won't take us seriously, and if they treat it like one big joke and mock us and mess around the whole time, we'll stop taking it seriously too, and then we won't succeed in... what we're trying to do... Burlap knows, and he is completely on board. He takes it very seriously."

"I think James actually takes school underwear inspections seriously too," she smiles, and I cannot stop myself from grinning up at her. I'm not entirely sure what the deal is with those inspections, but Delia and Kira are always complaining about them. I don't blame them; if someone starts inspecting my undies, I'll deck them.

"Believe me, even Jet would take those seriously," I tease her. "They're only performed on the girls, after all..."

Rolling her eyes, she finally swivels within the safe bracket of my hands, holding onto my forearms, and I avert my eyes while she pulls her legs up and over the wall. When she's in position, I pull myself up until I can lean on the top edge of the wall with my hands on her waist, carefully lowering her until she is ready to jump.

When her feet hit the ground, she turns to look at me, and her sweet smile wipes away all my irritation, doubts and frustration. She waves at me, and I wait until she enters her house before I drop back onto the walkway and carry on a few steps to climb over our back wall.

Good job, Ethan; your relationship survived your first morning together.

♂♀