Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Sense8 characters.

One minute, I'm floating in a fog of dark mist, muffled whispers echoing from somewhere above me. The next minute, I'm half awake, lying on a football field, the mist replaced by the muted rays of the late afternoon sun. The whispers are voices I barely recognize. There's a dull ache in the left side of my head, and when I reach for the spot, I can feel something protruding from my scalp. The smell of grass, sweat, and Gatorade suddenly becomes too intense, and I quickly close my eyes and roll over to my right, ready to empty the contents of my stomach away from prying eyes.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Take it easy," says a voice above me. It's here that I realize that I'm half lying on the ground, half lying on something—or someone—warm, damp, and sturdy. Calloused hands grip my shoulders and turn me on my back again.

"Get off me," I manage to groan, squeezing my eyes shut even harder.

"I believe it's the other way around, seeing as you're on top of my friend here," a new voice chimes in.

"Shut up, Diego," says the first voice, the person keeping me still. He—at least I think he's male—brushes the hair away from my face and starts rubbing circles on my shoulder. I hope he doesn't notice the goosebumps on my arms.

"Riley, are you alright?" a warm, female voice says this time. She sounds familiar.

"Yeah, I think. Kala?"

A relieved, collective sigh escapes from somewhere. "Yes, thank the gods," Kala replies. "We were so worried about you. Nomi and the others have gone to the nurse. I do hope the infirmary's still open. They'll be back any minute."

I tentatively open one eye. Kala is hovering above me, flanked by an irritated, blond-haired guy on her left. What's his name again? He has chemistry lab with me and Kala. Wolfgang? They always seem joined at the hip these days. Two other guys are standing awkwardly behind Wolfgang, looking at me curiously. Lito and Capheus. I have a music elective with them. Lito told me the other day that he liked my new hair. Capheus is always smiling, always laughing in class.

On Kala's other side is some guy decked in football gear, a cheeky expression on his face.

I squint at him, failing to remember his name. "Who are you?"

"Diego," says the football player. "I'm glad we've finally met. We've been trying to talk to you since last year, but you see, we couldn't find the…pardon my language…balls to do so. But today's our lucky day, balls flying everywhere. Right, Will?"

The soft, assuring circles on my shoulders stop. Will. Will. Where have I heard that name before? The throbbing in my head worsens as I try to connect the dots. I close my eyes again, wincing at the pain.

"Diego, I'll take you to hell and back if you don't shut up right now," Will growls.

Will. William? Bill? Will. Will…Gorski? Will fucking Gorski?

I lean back and open my eyes. Will Gorski, rising high school football star, vice president of the political science club, the shoe-in bet for this year's junior prom king, and all-around nice guy, is right above me. Angry. Sweaty. And shirtless. As his arms cage me in closer, I realize that I'm using his thighs as a pillow. If I turn my head to the right, I'll have a view of his stomach all to myself.

I feel groggy again, so I chant in my head to stay awake. I'm lying on top of Will Gorski. I almost turned him into my personal barf bag. I'm lying on top of Will Gorski. He's not wearing a shirt. He smells like coffee, grass, and sweat. I can hear him breathing. I'm lying on top of Will Gorski, and I think I've loved him since seventh grade.

"Fuck," I whimper to myself.

Will hears it anyway, and leans in. "Riley, are you okay?"

The afternoon sun chooses this moment to hit the side of his face. I can see specks of gold in his eyes, rivulets of sweat running down his neck. I nod slowly.

He cups the side of my face gently. "Stay with me, Riley."

I can't. The fog is creeping back, this time a bright mist of whites, greens, and yellows. He says my name again, and everything goes blank.

"Her father is stuck in traffic, but he is on his way."

Sun. That's my girl.

"What about her stuff?" Male. Familiar. He sounds worried.

Footsteps. Running. Gasping.

"I found it! I found her notebook. It was under the bleachers."

Nomi. Thank you, Nomi. Please don't open it. Stuff it in my backpack and throw it down a manhole.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot stay long. My father will be here soon."

No, Sun. Please don't leave me.

"It's okay. I'll look after her."

Nomi, what about Amanita? Aren't you planning on asking her out today? You were bragging about your entire plan the whole week. You couldn't wait for the last bell of the day. You two were supposed to meet at the bleachers. You were—

"But, you and Amanita…"

"Yeah, I know. I'll just meet her for a quick sec and be right back."

The male voice chimes in. "You two go. I'll stay. Besides, it's my fault she's here."

"What?" Sun answers, surprise and amusement coloring her voice.

"Will, I feel bad imposing," Nomi adds, "but are you sure?"

Wait, did she say Will? Will Gorski? Nomi, don't you dare leave me with him! You can't do this to me.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Give me your numbers. I'll let you know when she comes around."

Sun giggles. Sun never giggles. Oh Sun, you're officially on my blacklist.

"Will, you're a godsend." You too, Nomi. Traitors. "Thank you. Don't freak out if she wakes up with steam coming out of her ears. She's just cute, like that."

"I'll manage. I've got her, I promise," Will replies. I could have been hallucinating, but there's a playfulness to his voice when he said he'll take care of me. But before I can think anything of it, the fog drags me under again.

The nurse gives me the all clear. I'll have an awful bump on the head for a week or so, but ice and painkillers should do the trick. If I feel faint again tonight, it's off to the emergency room. Hopefully, things won't take a turn for the worse.

I turn to grab my backpack from the couch, but it's not there. It's slung over Will Gorski's shoulder.

Don't blush, don't blush, please don't blush. And don't do anything stupid.

"Can I have my bag, please?" I mumble, looking intently at his chin. Don't look at his face, don't look at his face, don't look at his face.

He slings the other strap over his shoulder and heads for the exit. "Nurse says you shouldn't do any heavy lifting. And honestly, your bag weighs a ton. What do you have in here, anyway?"

When I scowl at the general direction of his face, he backtracks. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

I rearrange my features into what I hope is a neutral expression. We're in the empty hallway now, walking at a leisurely pace. "No, it's fine. I know it's heavy; books, laptop, clothes. You don't have to lug it around for me."

"It's the least I can do," he answers. We turn left and saunter along the next hall in silence. The tension between is palpable, and I wish I could just disappear right there and then. When we near the double doors that lead to the main hall, he stops in his tracks. This time, I find the courage to look him in the eyes, and all I see is remorse.

"Riley," he begins, "I'm really, really sorry. God, my heart stopped when I saw the football fly towards you. When you hit the ground, and Sun and Nomi screamed, I just…fuck, I lost it. Everyone on the bleachers saw. Came running towards you. Wolfgang was pissed, saying we could have brought you to the hospital in Capheus' van in the time it took to get help. If anything happened to you, I'd have quit the team. But then, Diego's been lousy at practice these days. I can't believe he tripped at that pass. It's crazy. He always does this during practice, but on the day of the actual game, he does a 180 and becomes this crazy good halfback. But then again, I did throw the ball. So, yeah. I'm sorry. Again. I hope you're not mad, and I hope you can forgive me, and I…shit, I'm ranting. I'm sorry. Again."

I bite my lower lip in an attempt to keep the smile off my face. His ears go pink when he's embarrassed.

An uneventful week passes by, and the whole football incident becomes a thing of the past. Will and I resume passing each other in the hallway and in class without a second glance.

The hallway is quickly filling up with students when my phone beeps.

Hi. How's the head? –Will

I duck between a row of lockers to avoid getting crushed by the lunch rush hour. I stare at my phone screen for a good minute or two, trying to remember if I accidentally gave Will my number during last week's incident, before hashing out a reply that I hope didn't sound too enthusiastic.

Much better. Short and sweet should do the trick.

A beat passes, and my phone rings again.

Good to know. Where are you?

Lockers, I reply.

Everything okay? Are you coming to lunch? He asks a minute later.

The stampede to the cafeteria is now a mere trickle. I emerge from my hiding space between the lockers, typing out another reply while my feet unconsciously carry me to my destination.

On my way to the cafeteria.

I make my way to the end of the snaking lunch line when he messages me again.

Your 2 o'clock, near the big window.

I search the crowd and see Will's face. Nomi's. Amanita's. Capheus arrives at the table and spills a bag full of candy on it. Sun's eyes light up at the sight of the sweets. On the table beside them, Diego and Lito are talking animatedly while chomping down on their food, while Kala and Wolfgang are leaning towards each other, closed off to the rest of the world.

Will nudges Nomi and nods to my direction. Nomi spots me and waves excitedly, and everyone else on the two tables turns to her, then to me. Not wanting to draw too much attention, I give them a small wave.

I could have imagined it, but I swear Will's smile grew bigger when I finally got my lunch and made my way to them.

That was how it started. Lunch every other day turned into lunch every school day, which turned into hanging out at the bleachers every afternoon, which turned into screaming our hearts out during football games, which turned into random trips to the cinema or the park, which turned into pizza night every Friday, which turned into karaoke night every third Saturday of the month, which turned into a year full of laughing, dancing, fighting, crying, making up, getting weird looks from other students and teachers, getting wasted, getting detention, getting beat into a pulp by the visiting football team, getting showered in Gatorade after winning the championship, and falling so deeply in love and becoming so deeply intertwined with seven wonderful people, seven wonderful souls that I couldn't tell where my stories started and where theirs began.

It's karaoke night when Lito let it slip that Will Gorski, team captain of one of the best high school football teams this side of the world, president of the political science club, last year's junior prom king, the shoe-in bet for this year's senior prom king, and all-around nice guy, is in love with me.

"Riley, Riley, Riley," he slurs after taking a swig of the beer Wolfgang managed to sneak in to our table. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed Will pining after you the whole year?"

I look to where Will, Nomi, and Kala are currently doing a horrible rendition of Destiny's Child's Bootylicious and steal the bottle off Lito's hand.

"Don't be ridiculous," I grumble, downing the rest of the beer and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "He's my friend. Our friend. Our Will. He doesn't see me as anything else other than a friend, and that's that."

Lito chuckles and nods to the stage. "Are you sure about that?" he replies.

When I look at the stage, Nomi and Kala are hugging each other. Will has his eyes trained on me, his smile so wide and happy and infectious, my lips turn up of their own accord. I briefly entertain the thought of Will feeling something else other than friendship for me. I scan my memories of the last few months, memories of Will and me hanging out by ourselves, going out for milkshakes and fries, talking at the bleachers after a bad game, browsing antique shops for vinyl records and first edition books, correcting each other's homework, keeping each other sane and free of tears each time life reminded us that we were both one parent short. I try to remember the day he hit me on the head with that blasted football. I try to remember the look on his face and the feel of his hands when he held me to him. I remember the fear, the relief, the guilt flashing in his eyes. I pour over these things and search for any sign, any hint of something else other than platonic teasing or affection.

My heart swells.

Will Gorski might be in love with me.

Later, when the new bartender asks us for ID and threatens to call the cops when we refuse, we scramble out of the bar and into the starry night. When we run out of gas and tipsy laughter, I ask Will if his dad or any cop might get to us. He holds me close and presses his lips to my forehead.

"Don't be ridiculous, Riley," he says, his eyes twinkling, "we're not getting in trouble. I won't let anything happen to us. To you. Especially you."

There's a commotion as I turn the corner. Sun, Nomi, Lito, Diego, and Will are gathered near my locker, their hands behind their backs, knowing grins across their faces.

"Hey, guys," I say as I cautiously make my way towards them. "What's up?"

Sun then holds up a poster, followed by Nomi, then Lito, then Diego.

RILEY BLUE

WILL YOU

GO TO

PROM WITH

My eyes bulge out of my sockets when Will steps forward.

"Me?" he breathes. "Will you go to prom with me?"

Don't blush, don't blush, please don't blush. And don't do anything stupid. Please, please, please. Don't ruin this. Oh fuck, what do I say? What did Will say again? Does he…does he mean it? Oh, please don't blush, don't blush, don't blush.

I'm too busy chanting this over and over again in my head that I fail to notice Will's smile fading, and Sun nervously looking between me and Will. Diego is scratching the back of his head, while Nomi and Lito seem to be bickering.

Nomi whispers, "fuck, this is bad. This was a really bad—," "will you relax and be quiet?" Lito interrupts.

"Riley?" Will's voice brings me out of my reverie. He's frowning now, and his ears are so, so pink. "I'm sorry. Fuck, I screwed it up. I know this is really cheesy. Shit, I'm so sorry. I thought, you know, we've been hanging out all this time, and I thought you and I were really close, and you seemed to really like...wait, but I shouldn't have assumed anything about us. I'm so sorry. You know what, it's fine. You might have other plans for prom, and that's okay. We can go out as friends, as a group. Right, guys?"

Will turns to Sun, Nomi, Lito, and Diego, who have looks of equal horror on their faces.

"Damnit, guys. Help me out here," Will grumbles.

A chuckle escapes my lips. Will turns back to me, helpless and embarrassed.

"Your ears turn pink when you rant," I say softly. This does not help as his ears turn a dark red, and he brings his hands up to touch them.

This time, I let out a real, full laugh, and he grins, albeit tentatively. I take a slow, deep breath, and inch closer to him, holding my books tightly against my chest as if to shield me. It's now or never, Riley.

I lower my voice so that our friends won't hear. "Can we talk in private?"

His warm, calloused hand gently pries mine off my books, and I marvel at how pale and small my palm is in his.

When we walk away and turn the corner, I hear Diego groan. "Alright, lovebirds. Don't come running to us when one of you comes to prom date-less!"

Will hardly leaves my side during prom. Even when he is announced senior prom king, he hesitates to leave our table. It takes all of seven of us to push him, literally and figuratively, up the stage. Diego claps him on the shoulder as he nears the stairs, and Amanita, who co-hosted this part of the program, has the honor of placing the gold crown on his head. Several catcalls, photo ops, and handshakes later, he returns to our table to more catcalls and fanfare. Capheus demands that we take a group photo with the king, and the photographers hired for the night swarm at us with flashing lights.

When the fuss dies down, Will settles back beside me, draping one arm around my shoulder. His pink ears are evidence that he's still reeling from his fifteen minutes of fame. My fingers absentmindedly trace circles on his bouncing knee, hoping to calm him. "Congratulations," I murmur into his ear, "now, please relax. The hard part's over. That wasn't so bad, right?"

The hand on my shoulder carefully combs through my hair. Will nuzzles my cheek with his nose before bringing his mouth down on mine.

"Feels like I got hit in the head by a rogue football."