Title: Quarterback

Summary: Their first day of practice, Tim made three kids' noses bleed, including Cody Stanton's and his own.

Shout-outs: Snow, you're amazing and ILY. People who review my sorry excuses for stories, you rock also.

"I'm gon'a be a quarterback!" Tim Riggins exclaimed, nudging his best friend's shoulder. Jason smirked from behind his football mask, adjusting the chinstrap. The two six-year-olds were at peewee tryouts, Billy Riggins sitting in the stands, bored out of his mind and Mr. Street rooting Jason on from the sidelines. Coach Taylor was up front, going on and on about football formations.

"No sir, I am!" Kirby Johnson whispered loudly from behind them. Tim blatantly ignored the other boy. He didn't have time for silly kids like Kirby. Actually, only Jason really met his standard in a friend. He was a smart kid, with enough spunk to keep Tim interested, but not mean like Tim. Tim was mean to everyone, even Jason on his bad days.

"Boys, you got something to say?" Coach Taylor suddenly asked. Timmy scowled and Kirby blushed, his freckles standing out bright on his face. Jason was careful to keep his face schooled, like his daddy taught him. Coach Taylor stopped right in front of the three, and immediately started laughing. Honestly, Jason didn't really appreciate being laughed at for acting like an adult.

"What's your name, son?" Coach Taylor asked Jason, kneeling down so he could look the boy in the eye. Jason made sure to look him right in the eye, another thing his daddy had taught him, because he said it showed courage and respect.

"Jason Christopher Street, sir." Jason said confidently. Coach Taylor nodded sagely and reached out. He tightened Jason's chinstrap and patted him on the top of the helmet.

"You want to try out as quarterback, Jason Street?" Instantly almost every boy started to protest, but none as loud as Jason. He was small for his age, with teeny little arms and skinny little legs. Tim was a full five inches taller than him and wore two shoe sizes larger than Jason.

"I think Timmy would make a better quarterback then me, Coach." Jason mumbled, inclining his head towards his best friend. Tim straightened his back and tried to ignore the fact that Jason had called him Timmy in front of Coach Taylor.

"Well, you're going to try out before him, Street. Come on. What's your number?" Coach Taylor ordered, leading the slight boy towards the field where Brian Williams, Cody Stanton and Aaron Kitsch were already standing.

"Six, sir." Jason said. Coach Taylor handed him a blue jersey with a harsh, sharpie-drawn number 'six' on the back. Brian grinned widely and slapped Jason on the back. Jason could see Tim scowl at the fact that someone as annoying as Brian Williams was acting all chummy with his best friend.

"Okay, Six, throw the ball to Brian." Coach Taylor instructed. Jason thought he might cry. He didn't want to throw the ball to Brian; he wanted Tim to throw the ball to Brian while he cheered from the sidelines.

Jason's dad was yelling on the sidelines and Jason was honestly about to have a stroke. Finally, Jason threw it as hard as he could, and it went over Brian's head by about three feet. Cody scoffed and threw down his helmet.

"That was awful!" Cody cried. Three seconds later, big Timmy Riggins was throwing himself at Cody. They hit the turf with an undignified grunt and Tim began to hit Cody in the face with his fists as hard as he possibly could. Instantly, all of the peewee coaches were pulling the boys off of each other. Timmy wasn't giving up easily though, still spitting and scratching.

"Don't you ever call my best friend awful, you stupid jerk!" Tim yelled, jamming his heel into the coach's shin. He swore and dropped the boy, who straightened and immediately tried to go for Cody again. This time, Jason grabbed his arm and, with little effort held him back because, honestly, Tim would pretty much do anything for his best friend.

"Street, Riggins and Stanton, get over here." Coach Taylor barked, pointing to the ground at his feet. The three slunk over, Tim glaring viciously at Cody, who kept a good distance away from the best friends. Coach Taylor put his hands on his hips, squinting in the sun as the three boys shuffled their feet in front of him.

"Riggins, could you please tell what just happened? Or did you just attack Cody with no reason?" he asked. Tim glared at the Coach indignantly.

"He called Jason awful, 'n Jason ain't awful, and I stick up for my friends, and Jason's my bestest friend, so I ain't gonna let stupid Cody Stanton call Jason awful." Tim muttered, crossing his arms.

Coach Taylor sighed in frustration. "Riggins, I understand that, that's good that you're loyal, but boy, don't you ever assault someone on your team again!" Tim's scowl just got deeper as he stared resolutely at the ground. Jason glanced back and forth between his best friend and his coach.

"Er, Eric, we need to continue with practice. Should we ban the Riggins boy?" another coach, the one that Tim had kicked, asked, leveling a dark look at the indignant first grader. When Jason heard this, he nearly had a heart attack. Before he could protest, though, Coach Taylor sighed.

"Nah, Jim, we'll give Riggins another chance. You two get out there and start practicing. And, Riggins, you're a blocker. You protect the quarterback, who's Street," Coach Taylor directed before walking off with the other coaches to tell the other boys what was going on. Tim smirked when Cody Stanton limped away to quit the team.

"I can't believe you just did that!" Jason exclaimed after a moment of awkward silence. Tim shot him a sheepish grin before glancing down to hide behind a curtain of ratty, too-long hair.

"He was askin' for it, talkin' 'bout you like that, Jay." Tim grouched in a way all too uncommon for a boy of his age. Jason grinned and clobbered Tim in the arm. Before Tim could reciprocate, however, they were called over to the rest of the group.

Their first day of practice, Tim made three kids' noses bleed, including Cody Stanton's and his own. The coaches were so impressed with his vigor when it came to mowing over the defense that they disregarded the fact that he had gone after Cody Stanton and bruised a coach's shin. Jason had to get into his rhythm, but by the time practice was over, the coaches were practically offering him college scholarships.

"So, how was practice, boys?" Jason's mom asked when they ran in, kicking at each other when they scrambled for the platter of fresh cookies sitting on the sparkling marble counter.

They exchanged a glance and chorused, "Good,"