This story is written for the enjoyment of the author and its readers. This work of fiction is purely for non-profit reasons. Any resemblance to anyone, living or dead, is purely coincidence. All characters and events, save of my own creation, portrayed within are copyright of Square Enix, Inc.
This FanFiction is rated T FOR TEEN. It contains STRONG ADULT LANGUAGE, ALCOHOL AND DRUG USE AND SEXUAL SITUATIONS. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS
By Roger the Shrubber
I
Monday. Early morning sunlight streamed through the half-closed blinds, falling across my face. I stirred, pushing myself up. My eyes fell across the old alarm clock by my bedside, the time, 6:29 a.m., burning into my retinas.
I lay still, staring at the clock, daring the number to change. After what seemed like an eternity, the number rolled over to 6:30. With a click, the radio broke the peaceful silence.
"- and that's just the beginning. It's now 30 minutes after 6 o'clock, and we're about to pause a moment for station identification here on your official Dragon Sports Network."
Damn.
With a heavy sigh, I pulled myself out of the comfy embrace of my bed, moving through my impeccably clean room slowly. I grabbed the towel off of its hook, and moved to the bathroom, rubbing sleep out of my eyes.
The worn, water stained knobs of his shower turned, squeaking with age, and hot water spilled out of the old showerhead, steaming up the small bathroom quickly. I dropped my shorts, hopping in the shower. I cursed as the warm water stung my exposed skin, turning down the heat of the water. I let my mind wander, going through my shower routine with an empty mind.
Wash, rinse, repeat. Just like the bottle says.
Ten minutes later, it was over. I cranked the knobs closed, long blonde hair hanging limply over my eyes. I pulled the towel into the shower, drying off quickly. I paused to admire myself in the mirror, water dripping off my muscular body. I flexed my abs, pumping my biceps as well.
Damn, I look good.
I left the bathroom, steam coming off of my body as I reentered my room. Returning the towel to its rightful place, I dressed quickly.
"-high hopes for this season, and why wouldn't we? The Dragons are pretty much returning every starter from last year, and with QB Zack Fair at the helm, the Dragons are going to the team to beat in the state this year."
A pair of boxers, followed quickly by my favorite pair of jeans. I reached into my closet, ripping the plastic off and unfolding a new T-shirt. It was black, but the red lettering on the chest stood out proudly. Nibelheim High Varsity Football. I reached into my closet, grabbing a heavy jacket out and pulling it on. I reached out, brushing non-existent dirt off of the state championship patches of my Letterman's jacket.
"You've also got to give credit to Safer Sephiroth out on the right side. The kid's like a- like a vacuum, right? A safety blanket for Fair. Throw anything in his direction and he'll come down with it."
I grabbed the large duffel bag sitting on the ground near my dresser, unzipping it and making sure everything was still inside. Pads, flak jacket, helmet, pants… check. Everything was still safely tucked away where I put it last night. The old zipper fought my every pull, making it difficult to zip up the bag. I grabbed my wallet and old cell phone off of his dresser and tucked them into his pockets.
"I'm sure y'all have had enough of our speculation throughout the pre-season, but today is the first Friday of the season, and tonight, we will learn if Nibelheim is the real deal."
I turned off the clock radio with a grunt, leaving my room in a hurry. In the opposite direction of the bathroom, the short hallway opened into a small kitchen. Worn appliances and a small table dominated the space. Dying flowers sat in a dry vase on the table. I turned my head, seeing a familiar shock of blonde hair barely above an armchair in the living room.
Before dealing with her, I moved across the kitchen smoothly, pulling open the old fridge in the same motion. The fridge was nearly empty, but I grabbed a Tupperware filled with scrambled eggs and scooping a few spoonfuls into a tortilla. The meager breakfast burrito was thrown into the microwave. As the small box hummed and heated the food, I reached into the cabinet above. Orange prescription vials met my eyes, a variety of different medicines I hadn't ever even heard of. Of course, until Mom was prescribed them.
I grabbed two, years of practice made them easy to find, and popped the tops off, dumping a few pills into my callused hand. I reached into the fridge again, grabbing a water bottle and dutifully opened the top and threw the small piece of plastic away.
"Mom," I said, approaching her chair softly. She stared at the old tube television, the screen dark. I closed my eyes, praying that it was one of her lighter episodes. She had on her faded orange sundress, her favorite, with a stained white apron over it.
I handed her the pills and water bottle. She looked up at him, her blue eyes matching mine.
She took them from my hand without a word, swallowing the pills and chasing them quickly with the water.
A honk echoed from outside. I stared through the faded white blinds, noticing a black Camaro idling on the curb.
"Gotta go," I muttered, giving mom a quick kiss on the cheek. "Your afternoon medicine is in the Tupperware with your lunch."
"When are you going to be home tonight?" she asked, her voice the same level and calm as mine, but nearly a whole octave higher.
"Not sure. Got school, practice and then work."
She nodded, knowingly, staring back at the dark TV.
"Make sure to lead your receivers. Throw the ball where only they can catch it."
"Yes, ma'am."
I grabbed my backpack and duffel bag, paused to turn on the TV, and exited the door through the squeaky front door. I walked across the dead lawn, passing a sign planted crookedly but prominently planted in the grass.
I tossed my duffel bag and backpack into the trunk of the '98 Camaro, before dropping into the passenger's seat.
"Home of number four, Cloud Strife, quarterback," my best friend Zack Fair read as I closed the door. "Gat-DAMN, do ya' ever get tired of reading that?"
"I know you don't," I stated dully, buckling in to the passenger's seat. Zack took off, tires screeching on the asphalt, heading down the road toward Nibelheim High School.
"Now, Cloud," Zack said, putting his aviator sunglasses on his face. "It's the first day of practice for the season. No more of that two-a-day shit in the heat. It's time to get down to the nitty gritty. Because this is our year, baby!"
"Yeah," I said dully, looking out the window. Zack grinned at me. "Aren't you worried about the pressure?"
"Pressure? Me?" Zack snorted, shifting into a higher gear. "I thrive under pressure, baby. That's why I'm such a good procrastinator."
"A couple of magazine covers and being named one of the top hundred high school players ain't a school project, Zack."
"Don't fret your spiky head over me, Cloud. Let me worry about all the hype and magazines and winning, and you just ride the bench to a State Championship behind the number one player in the nation."
I was silent, staring out the window.
"I'm just kidding, dude," Zack laughed, slapping me across the chest as he turned his radio up. That stung a little bit. Country music leaked out of the speakers. "Lighten up, man, you're killing my first day of school buzz."
He was too, kidding that is. That was the kind of guy Zack was. Although he acted like an arrogant asshole sometimes, and being as good as he was gave him more than the right to do so, he was genuinely a nice guy. And he was my best friend. But still, the words he spoke were true. Behind him, I doubt I would see any quality minutes this year.
I noticed her before Zack did, what with sulking and staring out the window. She was walking down the sidewalk, toward the school; her large purse slung over one shoulder. Brown hair cascaded down her back.
Damn.
She was curvy, beautiful. And her legs, goddamn, her legs! They went on forever! I'd hate to see her go but love to watch her leave, if you know what I mean.
Shit, I ain't seen her face yet, and I'm already salivating over this girl.
"What do we have here?" Zack muttered, noticing her, slowing down and pulling up alongside. She glanced into the car with her ruby eyes, a little bit of surprise on her face. Zack rolled down the window. I slouched in my seat, avoiding eye contact.
Okay, so I get a little nervous around the opposite sex. What?
"Excuse me! Are you heading to Nibelheim High?"
"Maybe," she responded, teasingly. Damn, her voice was silky and beautiful and… womanly. Not too girly or high pitched. And thank God she didn't sound like a man.
"Wonderful," Zack said, glancing at the road to make sure we were still clear. "Well, uh, we go to school there as well and we were wondering if you needed a ride."
She stopped, thinking about it for a moment. Say no. Please say no. I can't think of two words to say to this girl.
"Yeah, sure," she said, as Zack came to a complete stop. Dammit! I mean, yes! I mean… shit, I don't know. "Thanks! My car is still on its way here."
"No problemo," Zack said, looking at me. "Cloud?"
I unbuckled, pushing open the door and stepping outside, tipping the seat forward and climbing into the backseat. She shoved it back into its upright position and climbed in.
"I'm Zack, and this is my heterosexual life partner, Cloud."
"Hey," I said. Hey? That's all you can think of? You suck, Cloud.
She laughed, brushing a few strands of loose hair behind her ear and buckling in as Zack took off.
"Tifa," she said with a smile, shaking my hand. I stared at her, dumbfounded. "Tifa Lockhart."
"You new here, Tifa?" Zack asked, getting back to full speed and giving me a wink through his rearview mirror.
"Can you tell?"
"Well, Spiky and I have lived here our whole lives, so we kinda know everyone."
"Yeah," Tifa said. "Just moved here. We have the house up on Bahamut."
"Well, welcome to the backwater-ass town of Nibelheim. Ain't nothing here but high school football and the Tasty Freeze down the road," Zack said, turning down a street.
"Do you guys play football?"
"Absolutely!" Zack said with great bravado. "Your lovable quarterback right here!"
"What about you, Cloud?"
"… Quarterback."
There, two words. At least I got that far.
"Here we are!" Zack exclaimed, turning into the parking lot of the high school. The dumpy building was showing its age poorly, and in desperate need of a full-scale remodel. The stadium, on the other hand, was in better condition than most college football stadiums. New bleachers. New turf. New lights. It truly was the centerpiece of this small town, and they wanted everyone to know it.
Zack pulled his car into his usual spot, beneath the shade of the two apple trees that grew on the edge of the school grounds. A pair of cars were already waiting there. A smooth, silver truck and a black BMW. The owners of said vehicles were lounging against them, Letterman jackets on.
"Hey, Zack," Rufus Shinra called in greeting from the hood of his black sedan. The son and heir to the Shinra Oil Conglomorate, he came from money, and if you didn't know that, he would make sure you did shortly after talking to him. His shirt was tucked neatly into his True Religion jeans.
"Ready for school?" came the cool voice of Safer Sephiroth. His long, silver hair flowing down his back, two stray locks and framing his cold eyes and sharp face. Tifa tipped the seat forward, and I clambered ungracefully out of the back of the Camaro.
"Always, Seph," Zack laughed, pounding his fist with Rufus and giving Sephiroth a bro-hug. One arm over the shoulder, one under the armpit, two quick taps with a closed fist on the back. I remained silent, standing near the car.
A worn, busted pickup truck came screeching into a parking spot next to us, empty cans rattling around in the back. The doors to the cab were thrown open, and the owner of said car stepped out.
"What's up, douchebags?" Reno said, grinning around a lit cigarette he had clenched between his teeth. Long, lanky, with bright red hair, Reno looked every bit of the goofball that he was.
Zack motioned with his head for everyone to head up to the building.
Rufus took his Gucci sunglasses off and tossed them on the dashboard of his car. He didn't bother to lock it up. Everyone knew everyone in this small town. We all walked up to the entrance of the school, several students high fived Zack as he walked up, grinning at a story Reno was telling. I kept silent, walking beside Tifa.
We passed the threshold, entering the school. Students milled around, tossing books into lockers, catching up with their friends about their summers, all matter of conversation. Sephiroth faded into the crowd silently.
Zack took three steps into the hall, before he was swarmed by a small mob of people wearing cheap suits and carrying a variety of recording devices. Cameras flashed softly in the hallway.
"Zack! Zack! A few words for the local paper?"
"To hell with the local paper, KVII here, local NBC affiliate! Zack, got a moment?"
"See you at lunch?" Zack said, exasperated, turning to me. I nodded.
"Well, I gotta go to the office to get my locker and schedule," Tifa said, looking at me.
"Cloud can take you, right Cloud?" Reno said with a laugh, tossing his cigarettes in his locker.
Damn you.
"Uh… yeah, sure," I muttered, feeling heat rise into my cheeks.
"Awwww, little Cloud is blushing!"
"Shut up, Reno."
Fucker.
"We'll catch y'all later," Rufus grinned, heading with Reno down the hall.
"Your friends are… interesting," Tifa said, watching them go. I nodded.
"They're more Zack's friends," I admitted, scratching the back of my head. "Since I'm younger, I met all of them through him.
What? A well-articulated sentence from Cloud Strife? Maybe there's hope for me yet.
"You're a… junior?" she asked. I nodded. "Cool! Me too!"
"Cool," I echoed, mouth suddenly bone dry. "… Maybe we have some classes together?"
She laughed, and I motioned for her to follow me, feeling really stupid at my elongated pause between thoughts.
"Here it is," I said, standing in front of an impressive wall of windows. On the door, also made of glass, the word office was printed in bold lettering. "I gotta get to homeroom, now, but I'll see you later."
"Bye, Cloud," she smiled, causing me to turn red again. "See you."
She opened the door and disappeared inside the room, and I exhaled a breath I was unaware I was holding. Why did she make me so nervous? I started walking down the hall, head down, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
I had spent my whole life here, in Nibelheim, raised by my single mother. The man who sired me, I would not dare use the word father on him, had ditched out on her after he knocked her up.
Jackass.
Growing up, I had been fortunate enough for Zack to come to my rescue during a schoolyard scrap, instantly creating a friendship bond that continued through the years to high school. I met his friends, and they accepted me as one of their own, although I was younger and really, really shy.
But, unfortunately, that also meant living in Zack's shadow. And it was a big one. He was handsome, powerful, smart, athletic, popular, everything that every high schooler wanted to be. Not to brag, but I was a pretty good football player in my own right. But at this point, I was QB2, sitting behind Zack but ahead of Sephiroth, luckily. Well, luckily because he was simply a better receiver than quarterback.
Enter Tifa. Someone new, someone not from Nibelheim.
Someone I can start over with.
I paused in front of my locker, twisting the combination lock deftly, opening the metal box. I grabbed a worn math book out, shoving it into my backpack before shutting the locker. I glanced to my right, noticing my neighbor was at his locker as well.
"What's up, Rude?" I asked the running back. Shorter than me, but packed with thick, dense muscles, and a perfectly shaved head, Rude Richardson nodded in greeting, his varsity football t-shirt tight over his bulging biceps. The running back was a force on the field; playing with a smash-mouth, seek out contact style. But off the field, he was honestly the quietest man in all of Nibelheim.
"Mr. Strife!" a voice from behind jarred me out of my thoughts. I turned, seeing my homeroom teacher, Mr. Domino, standing with a cross look on his face.
Shit, I was late.
"Sorry," I muttered, entering the classroom and making my way to the back right corner of the room, like usual, and slouching in my seat. I glanced at the clock. 7:33 a.m..
Only six more hours until practice.
I sat down at the table, at Zack's side, for lunch, setting my featureless paper bag on the table. I pulled out my lunch, a Wonderbread sandwich with bologna, and took a large bite out of it. Zack laughed as Sephiroth disgustedly pulled a large hair out of his slice of cafeteria pizza, before shoving the food away quickly.
"Mr. Fair, is it true that you can throw three touchdowns to three receivers at the same time?" a young woman wearing a pink shirt asked, mocking an anchorman voice.
"Absolutely," Zack grinned, "And I can bench press two cars, while saving a burning bus full of orphaned babies!"
The girl dropped her tray on the table, sliding into the open seat next to Zack and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. Aerith Gainsborough; Zack's long time girlfriend. The daughter of the local florist, her and Zack were neighbors growing up and eventually started "dating" way back in elementary school. They've been together ever since.
"Tifa!" Aerith yelled, waving her hand to get the attention of the new girl. Unfortunately for her, this also allowed Zack to swipe her piece of chocolate cake, shoving it all in his mouth at once. "Over here!"
"How do you know Tifa?" I asked Aerith, as Tifa smiled and waved.
"You should know this by now, Cloud, I know everybody," Aerith smiled innocently.
Tifa made her way to the table, and I instantly became very interested in my sandwich. That was a fantastic piece of bologna.
Rufus smiled at her, schmoozing her with his pretty, rich boy looks. He gestured to the chair next to him, but she sat down next to me. My heart rate picked up instantly. Reno occupied the chair next to Rufus, burping loudly.
Zack tried talking, but all that managed to leak through the chocolate cake were a few grunting noises.
"How're you settling in?" Aerith translated. Tifa opened her mouth, but before she could answer Reno stood up, a wicked grin on his face.
"Tuesti!" he yelled, as a nervous, nerdy looking boy stopped walking through the lunchroom. "Reeve Tuesti!"
I sighed. People say high school is a zoo, and if it is, then the lunchroom is the damn monkey exhibit. Reno, buzzing heavily from the chewing tobacco that was tucked into his lip, was getting ready to verbally bash the nerdy Reeve. Zack got to his feet as well, a frown on his face. Reeve was balancing his lunch tray on top of a stack of books.
"Reno," Zack warned. Reno looked at Zack before sitting down heavily. Everyone was silent for a beat. Sephiroth laughed, a cold emotionless laugh that matched his icy eyes, and Reno cussed him out.
"So, Tifa," Zack asked, smiling again now that some bullying had been averted. "How are you settling in?"
Sixth period.
I was sitting in the back right corner of the class, my usual spot. The bell hadn't rung yet, and I was sitting in my chair, flipping through my playbook when the door opened. I halfway put my playbook away, expecting the teacher to come through.
But it was Tifa, she looked around the class, and all of the guys sitting there suddenly perked up. She made eye contact with me, smiled, and headed to the back of the classroom. She sat down next to me, pulling out a notebook and pen out of her purse.
"What?" she asked, smiling as she caught I was staring at her. I shook my head, turning to my playbook once more as the teacher walked in and started lecturing on God knows what.
I don't pay much attention in school, if you haven't noticed.
"Strife!" Coach greeted as Zack exited the equipment room, game pads and helmet in his hands. "Quarterback… quarterback… Aha! Here it is!"
I handed my practice pads and helmet to our head coach, as he gave me my official regular season ones. He also handed me my jersey, number four, and pants in both home and away colors. I nodded, turning around and sitting down in front of my locker, right next to Zack.
"So?" he asked, grinning, as he took his pants off and pulled on his Nike compression shorts, with built in thigh and hip pads, and a pair of mesh athletic shorts.
"So, what?"
"When are you gonna make a move on Tifa?"
What?
"What?" I asked, stripping down to my compression shorts as well and pulling my old girdle on.
"Come on, dude, you know I can't sweep her off her feet, I am already in a committed and loving relationship. And plus she was diggin' you," Zack said, pulling his shoulder pads over his head and buckling them in. "And there's no way in hell I'm gonna let Rufus snag her over you."
"Thanks, I guess."
"See ya out there," he said, grinning, pulling his practice jersey on over his pads and holding his helmet.
"What's your name?" Coach's voice echoed into the locker room. I turned, looking in and was surprised to see none other than Reeve Tuesti standing there.
"Reeve Tuesti, sir," he responded meekly. "I want to try out for the team."
"Well, son, you missed summer training camp, and as of now, we're mostly full up," Coach responded, looking at his clipboard. "What position you wanna go out for?"
"Wide receiver, sir."
"Well, we do have some extra pads," Coach handed Reeve his equipment, and he fumbled it around. "Suit up and we'll see if we have a spot for you on JV or special teams."
Reeve muttered a thank you, and stepped out of the room, running square into Reno and Rude.
"Holy shit, Tuesti," Reno snorted, reaching into his lip and throwing his chaw on the ground. "Get lost on your way to the math-lete practice?"
"N-no."
"This team is going down the shithole if we have nerds suiting up," Reno said to Rude, who shrugged, attaching a new dark visor to his facemask. The two left the locker room, as Reeve came and sat next to me, fumbling with his equipment. He shot me a smile that I didn't return, sighing and standing up, pulling my practice jersey over my pads.
I walked out of the locker room, out onto the field. My cleats ground against the concrete with each step. I made my way out of the tunnel, holding my helmet by its facemask loosely in my hand. I took the red mesh pinnie handed to me by the offensive coordinator, pulling it on over my jersey and moving to stretch with Zack.
I unbuckled the side of my chinstrap, pulling my helmet over my head and leaving it unbuckled.
"You forget your mouth-guard?" Zack asked me. I nodded. "Yeah, me too."
"At least we're not getting hit today."
Zack flipped me a football and I caught it, spinning the pigskin in my hands deftly until my fingers fell on the laces. I flipped it back to him; feet spread shoulder width apart as I reached down, stretching my hamstrings. After I popped up, Zack tossed me the football again.
Coach blew his whistle, calling us all over. Zack and I jogged over, taking a knee with the rest of the team.
"Alright, boys," Coach barked, his whistle around his neck. "This season is about to be a big one. The biggest of this school's career."
"Damn straight!" Reno yelled from the back.
"Not only are we the favorite to repeat as state champions," Coach said, as the team whooped and hollered. "We also have the biggest name in high school football under center for us."
People clapped Zack on the shoulder, hollering again. Zack wasn't smiling at all underneath his helmet.
"But, the good news for the rest of you, other than the fact that we are going to be unstoppable this season, it means there's going to be a shit-ton of college football scouts out here at every game and damn near every practice," people perked up at that. "So, if y'all want to get that scholarship for the next level, y'all gotta prove it."
Coach blew his whistle, and we fell into our positional groups for practice. Rude led the running backs, Rufus was busy with the defensive backs, Sephiroth and Reeve joined the receiving corps, and Zack and I bullshitted around with the football for a few more minutes. Reno was off running laps, cursing. They didn't really need a kicker at this point of the practice.
After an hour, Coach blew his whistle again, and we all lined up on the goal line.
"Time to see how summer camps paid off for you all," Coach grunted, as people took off one at a time, arms and legs pumping, for their forty-yard dash. First, Sephiroth had the lowest time, then Zack beat him by a few hundreds of a second.
"Tootsie!"
"Tuesti, sir," Reeve corrected through his facemask, as he got down in an athletic stance. Coach yelled go, and Reeve took off, zooming down the forty yards at an incredible speed. He stopped a few yards past the finish line, as the defensive coordinator stared at his stopwatch in shock.
"4… 4.29…"
Stunned silence. One didn't have to be a mind-reader to know what everyone on the team was thinking.
Holy shit, the nerd could run.
That was 2 tenths of a second better than both Zack and Sephiroth, who were highly regarded to be among the fastest in the entire state.
"Is that good?" Reeve asked, walking over to Zack. Zack nodded, dumbfounded.
"Strife!" Coach broke the silence. I stepped to the line.
"Go!"
I was slightly caught off guard and had a bad start, cursing slightly as I took off, legs churning, feet pounding into the turf. I leaned forward, crossing the finish line. I gulped in air, unaware that I was holding my breath the whole time. I turned, looking at the defensive coordinator, who was staring at his stopwatch again.
"4.3… 4.31."
I blinked.
That was insane. Nobody ran that fast in high school, hell, few people ran that fast in college football.
And I stumbled a bit at the beginning.
Zack came over to congratulate me, clapping me on the shoulder pads. I stared forward, not sure what to think or say.
A few hours later, after practice and a shower, I was doing my nightly routine. That is, standing in front of a cash register at the Tasty Freeze. My white and red striped weird-shaped, half-beanie, you-only-see-this-thing-in-fast-food-restaurants hat sat awkwardly on my spiky hair. I handed the customer a large drink cup.
"Cloud."
"Sorry, could you repeat it?" I asked Zack, who was sitting criss-cross applesauce on the side of the counter, playbook open in his lap, extra-large soda sitting next to him.
"Black-16."
"Black-16," I echoed, turning to the soft-serve machine to pump out some ice cream. "Uhhh… I-formation. Hand off… left?"
"Nope."
"Hand off right. Running back hits the three hole," I corrected. Zack nodded, and I handed the ice cream cone off to the kid at the counter. This is what my life entailed. Go to school, go to practice, go to work. Zack usually drives me to work, what with me having no car and all, and stays around, going over play calls with me. I'm sure we annoyed the hell out of the customers at the beginning, but they've gotten used to it by now.
My boss, Lilly, an overweight 30-year-old, slid a burger from the grill area to me. I put it on a tray with a carton of fries, handing it off to the customer.
"Red-22."
"Red-22," I put my head down, thinking. I was QB3, third string, last year, so I didn't even end up getting a complete playbook. "Um. Empty backfield, five wide…"
The door chimed and I looked up, my heart thumping wildly.
Tifa had walked in.
"Oh shit."
"You're doing good, man," Zack sipped his drink, still staring at his playbook. "Need a hint?"
"Hey, Cloud," she greeted, causing Zack to look up. "I didn't know you worked here."
"Yeah…" I muttered, as a younger boy and a middle-aged couple walked in and stood behind her. She caught my glance. Again. Dammit did she not notice anything?
"Oh, these are my parents," they both leaned forward and shook my hand. "And this is my brother, Denzel. This is Cloud."
Denzel greeted me with a head nod.
"Sup."
"Hi."
"Zack Fair," Zack grinned, shaking their hands. "We picked up your daughter on her walk to school today."
Zack made small talk with them for a moment, before the door chimed and another man walked in. He was tall, and built like a brick wall. I recognized him immediately. Johnny something. He played for Junon, the big city a few miles away.
"Damn, this place is harder to find than it should be," he said, crossing the restaurant and joining the Lockhart family. He clapped Mr. Lockhart on the shoulder and then…
Aw shit, no.
He reached down and kissed Tifa. Full on, on the lips.
Zack's usual grin fell of his face, and we both stared daggers at Johnny. He broke the kiss, looking at us with a stupid smile on his stupid face.
"Nice hat, boss… Hey, I know you guys."
"Zack."
"Cloud."
"Yeah, you two play for Nibelheim," he said, looking at Zack. "Well, you play at least. Saw you made the ESPN top 100 list. How's that working out for you, Fair?"
"It has its ups and downs."
"Cloud," Tifa said, breaking the tension. "This is my boyfriend, Johnny."
Boyfriend.
Douchebag.
I remained silent.
"Hey, chief," Johnny said, wrapping his arm around Tifa's waist. "Any way I can get my drink with no ice?"
"You have to order first."
Yeah, that showed him, Cloud.
Tifa's father ordered for all of them, his manner of elegant speaking matching his well-kept and well-dressed appearance. I punched it all into the worn cash register, keeping my head down and muttering back at him. He was convinced I got it right, paid me, and I gave him his change.
"Fucker," Zack muttered as they walked away and sat down at a booth.
"Empty backfield, shotgun formation. Four wide, ten yard slants. Ricky runs an eight-yard curl. Sephiroth runs a post," I grunted, turning to make their drinks. Zack blinked, surprised.
"Yeah, that's right."
NEXT TIME ON FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS: The town gets ready for it's first game, while the team gets ready for their first party. But Cloud has other things on his mind.
