AN: This was written by one English and one American person, so we apologise if it sounds a little Canadian. And sorry if you're Canadian. That wasn't meant to sound offensive. Anything you recognise, we don't own. And remember to share the love and review!

I went for the ball with my left and just managed to get it over the net before that bitch from Brown slapped it right back, hitting me in the back of the head. You might think me stupid for turning around like that but, I mean, wouldn't you if your best friend and teammate had just screamed like she was being pushed off a twenty story building? I think so. I hit the ground as if I had been punched in the back by gravity and heard a whistle sound. A minute or so later, or maybe an hour - after all, how can you tell when you're unconscious? - I was sat in the medical room, my head pounding and a glass of water in my hand. I was still in my volleyball gear - apparently nobody had bothered to bring my gym bag in from the stands. For God's sake. I guess I have to retrieve it from the bleachers myself. I hauled myself up from the bed. And promptly fell back on it. I forgot that standing up too quickly makes me dizzy, so when I'm light headed, it's not my piece of cake. I tried again, slower this time, actually feeling my feet on the ground. Well, that's a start. I paced myself, hoping I wouldn't fall flat on my face. I stopped by the window and looked out on to the courts. Another match had started, Harvard Vs. Yale boys singles.

I noticed Stefan in the bleachers. He looked up and I ducked, hoping he didn't see me or catch my eye. He's such a pervert. I continued my quest for the gym bag on all fours, just wishing that Stefan couldn't see my butt in the air. Once I got out of the room, I stood up, attempting to pretend that there weren't carpet burns on my knees. I ambled over to the bottom of the bleachers, my head still feeling slightly clouded. I could just see my bag, a red and white beacon in a sea of faces. Sighing, I made my way towards it. Well this should be a fucking circus. I mentally cursed my inability to walk in a straight line, even when I wasn't semi-conscious. I almost tripped a few times, but apparently my clumsy nature decided to take a no show today. I looked to the heavens just thinking Thank you. That which made me fail to see a massive pair of legs stretched across my path.

I think you guys can guess what happens next. The ground rushed towards me, but before impact, a warm muscular pair of arms saved me from the imminent death of my non-existent social life. By some automatic force, I immediately wrapped my arms around their neck, and a pair of hands wrapped around my waist, shortly before I passed out again.

A sense of déjà vu washed over me as I was once again in a bed in the medical bay. I reached my hand out automatically to find my bag, and felt it, safely on the table next to my head. Other than Jacqueline and Simone, my roommates, my bag was my best friend.

I heard a deep masculine voice behind me: "Hey. I see you're awake now."

I groaned and whispered "Barely."

He chuckled, and I willed my body to move so I could see the mystery man.

I tried not to make it obvious that my jaw wanted to hit the floor. Was I drooling? Shit, I hope not. He looked like he had been sent from heaven, a blonde knight in a tight-fit black tee.

"So I'm assuming you're the one who saved my face from the ground?" I asked, my heart rate quickening as I scanned his toned body.

"Well, you were more headed for my crotch, but I guess you could say that." He said with a cute half smile which I'm sure turned my face a LOVELY shade of lobster.

"Oh yeah, sorry about that. You were sitting next to my bag, and I tripped over some asshole's legs."

"That asshole would happen to be my brother Rocky. Those flowers on the table are from him by the way. After you passed out - man, you should've seen him - sorrysorrysorrysorrysorryohmygodimsosorry! You fainted just before half time, so he tried twerking to make you feel better, but you weren't awake to see it," I couldn't help but giggle at the thought of it. "Oh yeah. My name's Ross. Ross Lynch. You're Denise Leighman, right? I saw you on the court, you've got some skills." He shook his head "but those Brown girls were playing dirty. You got the points in the end though."

I nodded my head and smiled, unable to peel my gaze from the bumps his nipples made under his shirt.

"They're beautiful flowers." I said, using the time to continue staring at his biceps. Jeez, snap out of it Denise. You're as bad as Stefan. I shuddered.

"Are you cold?" He asked.

"Yeah," I replied "volleyball gear isn't the warmest." My face heated up again. I remembered that I was in my sports bra and shorts which barely covered my ass. "I should get changed..." My sentence tapered off as I realised Ross was staring at a spot on the wall. He shook his head as if he was snapping out of a daydream.

"Yeah I should, I should hide, hide what? Yeah."

I giggled at his nervousness. He stood up and disappeared behind the curtain that separated me from the rest of the room. Why was I disappointed when he didn't stay to watch me change? Oh yeah, we hardly know each other. I quickly threw on my green Vans, denim skinnies, my white tank top and red beanie, as it was still a little cold, it being mid February. I shoved my gear back in my bag and called his name, even though I could see his shadow behind the curtain. I didn't wait for a reply. I pulled back the heavy fabric and told the nurse at the desk I was ready to go.

"Sure thing, boo, see you soon." She laughed at me. Ross cleared his throat. "Do you wanna go get some coffee? I know a great place off campus. And, uh, you look like you need it."

"Yeah, sure" I said enthusiastically.

"Great, follow me." He smiled. Just before I walked out of the room, I turned back to face Sally, the nurse. She winked at me, fanning herself and mouthing 'THIRD DEGREE BURNS'. I grinned back at her and followed Ross, closing the door behind me.