A/N - Hi it's been a while, but I've got the next few chapters planned out, so hopefully I'll be updating more frequently!

I haven't edited this chapter, so the humor may be subpar, but things are definitely gonna pick up for the boys in the next chapter ;)

Drew stood with Abigail, hitting peasants out of the way to pull herself to the front.

By the time Abby caught up with her, Drew was unresponsive. She stood there stoically, arms slack at her sides, and staring at the words of hell on Coach Junior's door.

DREW GEDAWAY - co-captain, striker

LOGAN WEST-RODRIGUEZ - co-captain, midfielder

Co-captain? Is that even a thing that happens in real life?

"Drew, it's fine," Abigail murmured comfortingly over the other nattering students, "better than Logan having the captaincy all to himself, right?" When she didn't get a reply, she repeated more assertively, "Right?"

Drew grit her teeth, "Yeah. I suppose." Work...with Logan? She'd end up making him eat the field.

Jordan took a look at the paper before craning his neck to look at her, a teasing smile playing at his lips, "Hey, congratz on becoming co-captain."

"Whatever," she snapped back.

Max was glaring at her sullenly, but Wilby gave her a broad encouraging smile, "You'll do great!"

Drew nodded, said an "I know," and walked off, Abigail in tow.

It being a Thursday, a C-schedule day, Drew would not see Logan until Phys Ed in sixth period after lunch. That being said, the day went smoothly, and the two didn't even bump into each other in the hallway this time.

She lightly thumped her lunch tray on her share of the unnecessarily roomy table she and her friends ate at.

Evelyn nodded in greeting, and Abby popped forward, "You're not still mad, are you?"

Drew made a face, "No. I'm just planning something."

"What?" Abby asked. "Is this about the um, 'war' you talked about?"

She smiled, "Yes, it is."

To her pleasant surprise, Abigail looked excited, "So what's the plan?"

"GIVE IT BACK," a voice boomed.

The three whipped their heads around and saw Vincent Winston lifting a trembling girl—Cocoa Kiyomi—a foot off the ground by the shirt.

"N-no!" she protested in a soft voice. "It's mine!"

"You lost it, you lose it," he snarled, shaking her.

"HEY!" Kenzie shrieked, storming over. "That's my friend you're manhandling!!"

"Stay out of this, drama queen," he bared his teeth. It was an animalistic gesture, and it made her hesitate.

"Let her go, jerk," Kenzie frowned, standing her ground.

Drew knew she had to do something. She stood and began making her way towards the drama. Evelyn grabbed her arm. Her eyes were serious, "Don't make yourself too memorable." Then she let her go.

The cryptic advice didn't make much sense to her, but she got the idea. Vincent was dangerous.

Drew could hear the gasps of the other students at the cafeteria as she yanked at Vincent's arm, and wrenched his fingers off Cocoa's blouse.

He glared at her, but kept his hands away. It wasn't the kind of stare she was used to. This was menace.

And she glared right back. "What did she ever do to you?"

He jerked a dismissive thumb at Cocoa, who was holding back tears as Mackenzie fretted over her. "She dropped her credit card, and when I picked it up, she had to decency to snatch it back."

Drew swallowed. Anyone this nonchalant about a stolen credit card was no good. She was starting to understand the school's fear of this guy.

"It's my dad's," Cocoa whispered, lips trembling. "Please let me keep it."

Vincent sneered, drawing himself tall, and he towered over the small girl. "Daddy's girl, huh? Better make sure you don't drop that again, Kiyomi."

At the mention of her last name, Cocoa seemed to quiver even harder. "Y-yeah...thank you."

The senior pivoted and marched away, laughing loudly. Every cell in Drew's body screamed for her to punch him, but her brain knew it wasn't a good idea. There were no teachers in the cafeteria, and the lunch ladies all seemed terrified of Vincent as well. Trying to deck the school bully would only end with an untimely death, and not his.

"How does he know your name?" Kenzie demanded.

Cocoa shoved the plastic card into her pocket, "Th-the credit card says my dad's name..."

"Oh, honey, don't worry about it. He'll forget soon enough. I mean, he probably thinks all Japanese names sound the same."

Drew calmly strolled back to her table, studiously ignoring the dropped jaws and expressions both awed and fearful.

Evelyn eyed her as she sat down. "Tone it down next time."

"Sure thing," Drew picked up her fork.

Abigail was frowning, like frowns powered the gears in her brain, "What did he do?"

Drew was confused, but Evelyn recoiled, "Pardon?"

"Vincent," she repeated. "What did he do? Why does nobody say anything?"

The blond looked uncomfortable, something that didn't fit with her bland indifferent character. "People do say something, but only when it gets bad. That wasn't bad at all."

"So what did he do?"

"It's only a rumor," Evelyn dismissed. "All you have to know is that our principal is a tyrant. She'd expel you for even alluding to it. So no, I am not telling you two. Especially you, Drew."

Drew was offended, "I'm not going to just shout it to the sky."

"Really?" Evelyn drawled, quirking an emotionless eyebrow, "Because it honestly sounds like something you'd do."

"Oh, shut up."

No amount of nagging got Evelyn to spill. Her brain was a bank vault, completely impenetrable save for those who knew the password.

Or a power drill, which Drew would have to get later.

Next Monday's soccer practice was the second meeting with the co-captains. Logan and Drew didn't really speak, as usual. They hissed a lot, though. As usual.

It was obvious that Logan was just as pissed about the arrangement as she was.

Before, the two had never really hated each other, but once they found out their dream had to be shared with the other, it didn't take long at all for hostility to take its hold.

The coach made the two shake hands at the beginning of each practice, and the two made it a fun game of trying to snap the other's bones.

When they finally pulled apart, dismayed that fingers weren't so easily broken via handshake, Logan hissed (see?) his daily insult, "Captain, with you? I'd rather kiss a moose."

Drew took that as a personal insult to her moose country, and stepped on his foot with her cleats.

They lead the team together in harmonic discord, and although the boys were more inclined to listen to Logan, their respect (and fear) for Drew was rising steadily, directly proportional to her temper.

"MAX!" she bellowed. And she wished she had a megaphone so she could bellow even louder. Halfway through practice, Max had punted a ball straight over the goal, where it rolled into the chain-link fence.

The boy had the nerve to toss a glare at her, "Yeah, captain?" He said it calmly, but everyone knew that he was inches away from kicking her in the chest.

"Stop kicking the balls out of bounds!" she screamed, turning up the murder in her eyes. "You can't be this bad at soccer."

The venom in her voice only fueled Max's frustration, "What if I am?"

"Keep it up, and you'll be the water boy at tournaments!"

"Guys," Logan warned, stepping in. Drew rolled her eyes. Everyone had been watching the exchange with interest, and he had to come in and ruin the fun.

Drew flicked her hand at him like he was a fruit fly, "Stay out of this." She met Max's eyes with a wolf stare, "Go get it."

"Oh, fine," he barked, storming away.

Drew held out a hand to Logan.

"What?" Logan asked, backing away as if she were going to shoot out spiderwebs.

"Ball." She indicated the monochrome spherical object in his hands.

"Oh," he said intelligently, brows furrowing. He tossed it to her.

Max had returned, just in time witness Drew booting the ball across the field and to where Max's ball had gone originally. "Pick that one up too!" she hollered through her grin. "And if anyone kicks a ball out of bounds, accidental or otherwise, tell Max to get it!"

Wilby wordlessly toed his ball two inches off the field, and Drew shot him an evil conspiratory smirk.

Out of the corner of her eye, Logan rubbed his face, grumbling insults under his breath.

Needless to say, even Logan had to admit Max behaved a lot better. He shut his dumb mouth about Drew for the rest of practice. Or at least, while she was within cleat-throwing distance.

Abigail accompanied Drew to her locker, because she was a delightful friend like that. Delightful as in its lesser-known second meaning: a pain in the everywhere.

Was that an exaggeration? She didn't know. All her thoughts were either insulting or violent, even towards things like kittens.

But that was only because they were too cute.

And should effing die UGH squishy ball of FLUFF.

"Drew?"

Drew snapped out of it, not wanting to let it be known that tomboy supreme was contemplating kitty cats getting their bellies rubbed. "Yeah?"

"There's a note on your locker."

She looked, and sure enough, there was.

It wasn't romantic in the least, if that was what your gross sappy heart was thinking.

The paper was actually part of a math worksheet, and stuck to the metal with a flimsy piece of clear tape with fingerprints all over it.

No, be patient, that wasn't the bad part — math worksheets getting torn up is encouraging news. The bad part was that in scratchy letters it said the word...you know what? It's not worth thinking about.

Abby indicated with her eyes that they should do some CSI-style fingerprint matching, but Drew peeled the paper off with her fingers and turned it over.

Oh wow, she had a hand-written message. And she thought Snapchat was all the kids used these days.

Don't think I forgot your pathetic show
of heroism in the cafeteria last week. I'm
waiting for the perfect time to take you
down for good.

"Just some threats from our buddy Vincent Winston." Drew held it up so Abby could read it.

The dark-skinned girl's lips were pursed as she took the paper (Drew couldn't hold still). "He sounds serious."

Drew daintily plucked the note back and violently crumpled it up. "Crash course for dummies: 'Waiting for the perfect time' is code for either 'I have no idea what I'm going to do to you' or 'I'm not actually going to do anything'."

"Or 'I'm legitimately waiting for the perfect time because I'm clever'," Abby pointed out.

"Stop ruining my humor." Drew flicked the numbers to pop open her lock (3-7-3-9) and retrieved her backpack. She hauled the strap over one shoulder and got her freshly-washed damp hair out of the way. "The late bus'll leave without us if we don't go soon."

"Did you know David just drives his friends home? Must be really nice. My mom..." she started doing that rapid flappy thing with her lips again, and Drew tried to listen in case Abby decided to throw a pop quiz at her later.

On the way out, Drew lobbed the crumpled ball into a nearby trash can. It flew in with a satisfying pah when it hit the plastic bag in it.

If she'd missed, she would've jammed it down her own throat.

Her thoughts were violent even with herself, it seemed.

"No."

"I haven't even said anything," Drew sighed, getting comfortable on her bed.

Through the phone, Evelyn sighed too — sighing had probably been invented by her, to be honest, "I'm not going to tell you what Vincent supposedly did."

"Why not?"

"Because—is that a power drill I hear?"

Drew put the drill down, "No."

"Okay this is exactly what I'm talking about: you're insane."

"LOOK, it's just really fun to play with. Anyway, I just want some other information. Nothing to do with Vincent."

"Alright..."

Drew could feel all the suspicion being beamed in rays at her through the screen. It wasn't her fault that she was always up to something. It was just her genes. "When are we allowed into the parking lots?"

"Have you read the student handbook?"

Drew laughed, "You're hilarious."

Cue the sigh's third appearance on set. "Only before and after school, unless there's an emergency. Why?"

"Is there anyone watching over the cars?"

"There's a security guard at the back entrance near the lot, but he only looks at who's coming in."

"Ah, that's convenient."

"Don't tell me you're going to key David's BMW."

Yes, I plan to cripple David forever by scratching an F on his car door.

"NO!" Drew shrieked, even holding her phone up to her mouth so she could break Evelyn's ears a little more. "Do you think I'm that crazy? I just want to, you know, get Logan back for being captain."

"Logan?"

"David drives his friends home after practice. Perfect opportunity to get all four at once."

"What is this for, exactly? This dumb war you declared that you never explained the rules to?"

"Here's a rule to satisfy your needs: wreak some havoc and make Logan surrender."

Evelyn groaned long enough to properly express her exasperation and more. "Whatever it is, I'll help. As long as it's not illegal. Like keying a car."

"I'm not keying his car!"

Her friend hung up without even saying bye. Drew turned off her phone and scowled. "I'll key your mum's car."

She hadn't talked to her brother Darwin in a while, and decided to give him an update.

Making a mental note to turn her phone off right after and not start playing Fruit Ninja, she called his number.

Of course it went to voicemail. He never used his phone when he should be using it.

Half an hour of Fruit Ninja later (dang it), she got to work on planning the grand opening scheme.

Like always, homework should be patient and wait its turn.

Five minutes into Wednesday's practice, and Abigail was already flirting her way into David's backpack.

Okay, to be fair, David didn't look that fazed, and possibly more confused than flattered about anything.

Abby energetically waved at Drew twice, signaling that she'd successfully returned the nerd's keys.

Logan rudely snapped his fingers in front of her face, and her eyes got whiplash as her vision was torn from the bleachers and to his ugly brown hand.

But Drew just smiled, tilting her head, "Yes?"

His dark eyes narrowed at her cheerfulness (since she was quite vile most days), "Focus on the drills, captain."

"Sure thing, captain." Saying that word to Logan nearly made her barf on his shoes, and she turned away to start dribbling.

"What are you planning?" he demanded abruptly, like it'd been bugging him the whole day.

She looked back at him, wiping her face blank, "Nothing, yet."

Oh, she was such a liar.