"And so the nice guy never wins, man," said the boy. He didn't used to usually agree with that boy, most of the time he said pretty stupid and bland and kinda offensive things. But this time he had said something he could somehow actually agree with.
"I don't know, man. A nice guy is pretty... nice, you know?"
"Yeah, but he doesn't stand a chance against a bad guy. A bad guy is willing to do anything to get what he wants, anything. He doesn't care about what the other person wants, he just arrogantly takes it. The nice guy, on the other hand, he respects the person, so he's won't risk too much, and is eventually destined to lose."
That was not much coherent on his part to say, since the boy was not one gentleman at all, but rather liked to hoot at girls pretty often.
"Well, I'm sure there must be somebody who doesn't like the bad guy type."
"No way, man. Girls crave for excitement, they want to feel strong emotions, they want to feel desired and loved, but it's a kind of rough love, this one."
"I don't know. I don't fully agree."
"Whatever," said the boy, "I don't really care. It's just what I think, after all."
They were walking. Walking down a cobblestone path, at 7 PM. He didn't remember well if they got out just to take a walk in the tepid evening or if they were actually going somewhere in particular.
The other boy raised his head, like a wild animal sniffing something in the air, "Do you hear that? What the fuck is that?"
"Uh..."
He sped the pace up and went ahead, then stopped in front of an illuminated spot. He'd stopped before a wired fence, and was looking with fascination over to the other side.
"What's up?"
"Dude, check THIS out. This is so weird. Female rugby."
His heart kinda jumped, but he didn't let it show, instead he walked up beside him and watched, too.
A dozen or maybe more girls were training in the field, more specifically, rugby training. You could hear yelling and screaming throughout all the area, orders and indication, insults and laughing, all mixed up in a confused turmoil of dust, sweat and clashing bodies.
"Wow," the black-haired boy said, turning to him, "these gals are truly something else, right, Dave?"
Dave didn't even looked back at him. He just stared in awe and pain.
When was it that it had even started? When was it? Why was it? He couldn't even remember, not that he really cared. Watching them made his chest feel tight, and he didn't know why.
A long, high, blowing of whistle made all the girls stop and walk away, while high-fiving each other and slapping each other's butts.
John burst into an uncontrollable laugh.
"Dear God, Dave, these chicks are freaking brutal, Jesus Christ!"
Dave giggled a bit. It WAS kinda funny, after all, seeing girls slapping each other's asses like that.
"Hey," he said, "wanna make a challenge?"
Dave hesitated. John's challenges were usually up to no good.
"What kind of challenge?" he asked suspiciously.

"Here they come."
Dave looked frantically over the entrance of the gym. On second thought this was crazy, a very stupid idea.
"Hey. Hey, John, look, I don't think I want to…"
"No second thoughts now, buddy. They're here. See you later!"
And he went towards the first girls that had exited the building. "Go Lions!" a large banner said, hanged over the entrance.
"How about we see if we can manage to pick up this kind of girl? Average girls like bad boys, so what about BIG girls? Shall we find out?" had said John, with a grin in his face.
Good God, why was I so stupid as to agree to this idiotic bet? I'm a total klutz with girls, not to mention these kind of girls! What the fuck do I do, now?!
A black-haired girl with a ponytail got out, holding a large blue bag over her shoulder, and passed John, looking at him trying to convince the three girls in front of him to go out with him. She was wearing a light-green sleeveless shirt, which read THINK AGAIN in capital letters, and jean shorts.
She then looked at him, as if questioning the meaning his presence there, what was his purpose and why was he waving at her in such an awkward and creepy way.
"Hi!" Dave managed to say with a squeaky voice.
"Uh, hi?" said the girl, stopping in front of him.
She looked at Dave with her eyes wide open, but she had a faint sneer about her face.
"What is it?" she asked, after a few seconds of growing silence. Dave suddenly thought about his height. He was almost 6 feet tall.
Throughout his life he had always dated girls shorter or just almost as tall as him, and he had been fairly okay with it.
This girl was, like, at least 6"2, and she was towering over him, looking at him with a subtly mocking look.
"I… uh… I was wondering… I mean… my name is, uh, Dave and… I was- I mean, we were looking at you guys... I mean, girls playing and… so we thought, uhm… I mean, you're pretty…"
Don't-say-buff-don't-say-buff-don't-say-buff-don't-say-buff!, he thought as hard as he could, staring at her arms.
"Buff... ling! Baffling!"
"Should I take it as a compliment?"
"Uh… y-yes?"
She smiled again in her subtly sneering way and said, "You're cute. And you seem a nice guy. Do you want to give me your number?"
"Uh… uhm… yes! Okay!" said Dave, very much confused. According to John, it should have been them to ask the girls their number, but whatever, he had done it.
She softly giggled, tidied her hair up with a hand and took the scrap of paper on which Dave had written the digits.
"So, uh, ca-"
"I'll call you, maybe. Bye, dude," she said, and casually walked away.
Dave kept watching her walking, until she disappeared, happy, but still a bit disoriented.
"So… how'd it go?" asked John, placing a hand on Dave's shoulder, "Me, I managed to get three numbers, man!"
"Good," said Dave, "As for me… hm… not sure. She did get my number."
"Well, did you get hers?"
"No… was- was I supposed to?"
"Uh, yeah? Goddammit, Dave, how do you plan on calling her, now?"
Huh, thought Dave, That is a damn good question.