This was a gift I wrote for elrickeyblade in the YJ Christmas Exchange on tumblr (which you can get to through my profile if you're curious). I had quite a few plot bunnies and not enough time for this originally, so I've decided to continue it, somehow someway. I don't usually write much, so please forgive any glaring mistakes. Enjoy!

Late late late. Oh, he was so so screwed. The wheels of his skateboard weren't rolling near fast enough for his taste. And his phone had to ring just as he was trying to land a kickflip.

"Jaime—!" the caller started.

"Yeah, I know it's almost time for practice, Tye—but I'm practically there! I'm taking a short cut through the parking lot now," his friend didn't make an argument, besides reminding him to hurry up, or else.

"Hasta pronto!"

Liar.

Jaime was late, he was screwed, he was never going to hear the end of it from Coach Carr, and that wasn't even considering what his teammates would do to him.

Skateboards weren't even allowed on campus. At all. If any late-working administrators happened upon him and his illegal wheels he would be in an even bigger heap of trouble. One he couldn't get out of by volunteering to be the shag today. But if he could just make the turn around the gym, coast on the track, and ollie onto the soccer field without any distractions, he could make it out okay.

He made a smooth jump off the stairs and pushed his leg across the pavement to give him a much-needed boost. The wind whistled in his ears and ruffled the short black hair at the base of his neck. Emerging before him was the large football field and track, tucking in front of the soccer field he was racing towards.

Another jump onto the curb and he skates onto the rubbery track, thankful the cross country team picked today not to practice there. He was too far away to see any of his teammates yet, but the large football players and nimble cheerleaders stood out starkly from the green turf. Just one more wide turn and he could still make it just in the nick of time…

"Heads up!"

"Que?"

Jaime's head whipped around to the left, but his reflexes weren't quick enough. A football sliced through the air and smacked him in the back, knocking him well off his skateboard and onto the track. He let out a hiss of pain and quickly wished his ringing ears were enough to drown out the distant sound of snickering coming from the field.

"Ayyy…." groaning, he pulled himself up and kneeled on the track, looking up just in time to see a yellowish blur racing towards him.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" a feminine-sounding voice spoke fast. "I am so so sorry! Usually my aim is better but the wind picked up a bit ago and I didn't—"

"Callate!"

Jaime clamped a hand over his mouth. The blonde girl now in front of him blinked. Her sky blue eyes were wide and innocent-like. If there was a more perfect cheerleader type, she was the closest thing to it.

"I-I uh, mean, you don't have to apologize…."

"Really? But you're okay, right?"

"Yeah. Fine." Still late to soccer, but—

"Oh, is this your skateboard?" she jogged over to where it was still rolling away with the wind. She bent to pick it up and his eyes immediately went to his sneakers and long soccer socks. Just a step away was the object that had pelted him, an NFL-sized football. Instinctively, he picked it up and felt the tight laces underneath his fingers, along with how no matter how hard he squeezed, it wouldn't budge. He could see now how it felt like a cement block crashing into the top of his spine and unleashing a web of pain into his neck.

Throwing it back would not fix his already thrashed ego, however. If the girl had terrible aim, his wasn't going to be any better. Still, though…

Without another thought, he was tossing the ball into the air, taking a step back, and swinging his foot right into the laces. The tightness hardly registered on his foot as he ended his kicking motion and watched the football fly back towards the teams on the field. It soared in a high arc and coasted in the air for a long moment, and even as it began to fall it sailed past the helmets of the football team. A few of them absentmindedly gazed it it's direction and followed it's path. The ball finally landed with a soft thunk just in front of the end zone.

A small smile crossed his face. It disappeared as quickly as it had come when he felt a small buzz in the pocket of his shorts. Tye. Practice. You're late.

He quickly turned and nearly crashed right into the cheerleader. She was still holding his skateboard and smiling like a pageant winner. "Did you kick that?" she asked.

"Yeah, sorry I missed them by a bit, but I really need to go—"

"You almost split the uprights!"

"Okay, thanks, can I get my skate—"

She handed the board back without taking her excited gaze off of him. "You know you kicked that across the entire field, right? Have you ever-"

"Lo siento, I need to go!"

Opting to forget about getting any speed on his board, he broke into a sprint down the track, leaving her calling behind him. She didn't follow him; he didn't want her to. What was a pretty girl going to do that would make any punishment from his coach worth it?

Actually, he didn't want to know. It was better this way.

Looking ahead, he could see the team already returning from their warm-up run. A little under ten minutes late, but he'd still have to run double now and speed through his stretches and then pray he didn't have to run extra wind sprints.

The fence separating the fields was low enough to jump over, especially with his head start. His skateboard tucked under his arm, he leapt off the track to hurdle it and—

—met the grass with a hard THUNK.

The laughing was much louder this time. Now two fields of practices had seen him face plant all over the ground and all Jaime could do was admit defeat at the hands of gravity.

"Dios mio…" he groaned, and shifted his back to the ground. His leg refused to move at first, and he could only blink at seeing why. The shoelaces on his kicking foot were tangled in the top of the fence he tried to jump. He hadn't noticed they were loose when he kicked the football. They had caught in midair; sealed his embarrassment for the rest of his high school career.

More laughing echoed closer to him and he looked up to see Tye standing above him, holding his gut in hysterics. "Ohhh man, you shoulda seen yourself!" he kept chuckling, but offered Jaime a hand.

He rolled his eyes and pulled himself up, kicking off his sneaker in the process. Tye made a move towards his friend's board while the embattled teen looked back on the football field again. Plenty of players and cheerleaders were still giggling and pointing at him, but they were stopping abruptly. A few even looked ashamed, but they all were looking in one direction, away from him…?

"Hold on a second." said a voice he didn't recognize. Jaime jumped and turned again, only to find a very tall, very intimating man in sunglasses standing behind him. Before any questions could form in his mouth, another voice answered one for him;

"Coach Grayson!"

It was the blonde. Her voice had sounded yards away but she was by his side in what felt like a moment. He could only gawk at her as she grinned at the both of them.

"You're…pretty quick." he finally gasped. She only shrugged.

"That's what we expect from our starting running back," the coach added, smiling slightly.

Jaime blinked. Then the words slowly sunk in. Starting running back. Not a cheerleader. Football player.

"Wait. You're—and he's—so that means…" his head was starting to ache processing all the information.

"Jaime, you've met Cassie already," the blonde—Cassie now—gave a little wave and smiled. He could see now that the sweatshirt she wore was emblazoned with the football team's logo, but anybody in school could easily get their hands on one. "And you can just call me Coach. I help out with the football team. But we could use your help."

"Me? But how do you know who I am?"

"Coach Carr gave me the soccer roster. My roster needs a new kicker."

"Oh, uh, that's nice…" Jaime looked between Cassie and her coach. Both their eyes seemed to share some sort of wicked glint to them, and they knew it too.

"Do it again," the man ordered. The teen only stared back at him, confused. Rolling his eyes, the coach motioned towards Cassie, who held out another football.

Silence filled the trio and led Jaime to pause. He looked back at his teammates, who were doing shooting drills now. Coach Carr stood apart from them and flashed a thumb's up towards his player. He knew. There was never going be any punishment. Relief ran through his spine like an open river.

Nobody on the football field was paying attention them anymore. Of course, the football team was huge. They needed several coaches just to deal with them. Every player had their own priorities. Some were only on the field every so often, others only played when they were absolutely needed.

He knew he'd have to quite literally kick his way up in the ranks if they took him in. Probably adjust the angle of his kicks. Plus there was a much different uniform and rules and not to mention the sport itself was miles more dangerous.

There would more than enough trouble staying in one piece than getting his kicks on target.

"Oh, no, I really can't—" he let on until Cassie grabbed his arm again, gentler this time. Her eyes were soft, imploring of him. Suddenly he needs to remind himself to breathe.

"I can tell you, it'll be worth it." As if to prove it, she places the football in his hands. He thumbs the laces again, this time feeling the control the tight leather is meant to bring.

The next time he looks up, she's smiling again.

And any conscious doubts he has left just disappear.