Autumn lingered in the crisp air, outmatched only by the buzz of students heading to school. Bold banners of blue and white adorned every hallway of Overwatch High—Homecoming Week was around the corner.

While her peers gossiped over potential date material for the dance, Fareeha's focus lied elsewhere. In between note taking, she scribbled strategies to present to Coach Morrison. She needed to win the most important match of the year—a Friday night game against their longtime rivals, the Talon Warlocks. What better way to prove she was the right choice as starting quarterback than help win the Homecoming game? Her mother would be proud, most certainly, but that victory on her college resume was beyond perfect.

And maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to garner the attention of a certain cheerleader.

Fareeha passed her in between periods daily—a spirited blonde with a radiant smile. They only ever shared a single class together throughout the entirety of their high school career and she spent study hall freshman year with her nose buried in countless biology and chemistry books. Fareeha admired that level of dedication and intellect, even if some of it was beyond her understanding. Regardless, she cherished those moments they walked by. It was enough to lift Fareeha's spirits.

She was with a friend, discussing lecture notes from AP Physics. She clutched notebooks to her chest, lost in conversation and oblivious to the chaotic hallway. Some punk—a sophomore, for all Fareeha knew—collided into her and knocked those precious notebooks out of her grasp. She gasped, papers flying everywhere. Dropping to her knees, she scurried to retrieve her notes and homework before others stepped on them.

Fareeha didn't hesitate; she approached the frazzled girl. Calculus could wait.

"Here," Fareeha said, "let me help."

Once on her level, she absorbed those wide blue eyes regarding her. That smile rekindled.

"Oh, thank you!"

"Don't mention it."

As they stood, she tilted her head. "Say, you're Amari, right? The new quarterback?"

Fareeha blinked and puffed up her chest. "Yeah, that's me! Was a tight end the previous year, but hoping I can pull it off."

"That's great! I—"

"Angela," her friend butted in, "we need to get going. We'll be late to AP Lit."

Her posture deflated, though as she caught up with her friend, she looked back to Fareeha and waved. "Thanks again for your help!"

That's right—her name was Angela. How could she possibly forget?

It was Angela, the student council treasurer; Angela, a National Honors Society member; Angela, the returning cheerleading captain; and Angela, a runner-up for Homecoming Queen that year.

Fareeha stared at the ballot later that day. If Friday was the big game, then Saturday was the even bigger celebration. Preparations in the gymnasium were halfway complete, gradually transforming the space into an aquatic-themed dance floor. It was that exact dance floor where the announcement of Homecoming King and Queen took place.

The thought of Angela crowned as Queen tingled throughout Fareeha. Who better than that radiant young lady? Fareeha frowned at the options for King; if only it could have been her.

Well, I can't have everything, she sighed while checking the box by Angela's name. Already starting quarterback. That's good enough. Though it would be nice to be King. Or maybe... hmm, I wonder if she has a date to the dance? Fareeha laughed at herself. No, that's silly. We barely know each other. Besides, she's probably got her eyes on someone else.

She couldn't let a pretty girl cloud her thoughts; Fareeha needed to get through the week and be prepared for game time. Everyone was counting on her—the team, her coach, her school, the parents, all of them. If she messed this up, then who would want to hang out with her, let alone go to the Homecoming Dance with her?

"Don't you worry about a thing," her mother said the following morning while Fareeha slumped over the kitchen table and pushed scrambled eggs along the plate. "You're going to be great. I just know it."

Fareeha sighed. "Yeah, but what if I mess up?"

Ana ruffled Fareeha's hair. "Even heroes make mistakes. Do the best you can. That's all anyone expects. And I know you'll do great."

Smoothing out her hair, she wrinkled her face. "Easier said than done, Mom."

"Good thing you've always been the type to act than sit on the sidelines," Ana reminded her, sealing it with a kiss on the temple.

Those words echoed in Fareeha's mind throughout the school day. She rolled her pen between her fingers and gazed out countless windows. The hours dragged, much to her dismay.

And she swore it froze when she passed by Angela.

Her friend accompanied her down the hall, per usual, but Angela donned her blue and white cheerleader uniform. A blue ribbon held her blonde locks back in a high ponytail with matching eyeshadow swept across her lids. She laughed with her friend, pausing to catch Fareeha's eye. That smile blossomed as she waved.

Fareeha couldn't remember if she waved back. Hopefully she did. What kind of loser just stood there and gawked back at their crush?

Oh fuck. This is a crush. I have a crush. It's her. Oh shit oh shit oh shit it's her. She stormed to the nearest bathroom despite needing to head to class. Her reflection gave way to a burning red face. Ugh, what if she finds out? What if she laughs at me? What if she never talks to me again? What if she becomes Homecoming Queen and publicly calls me out at the dance for staring at her? Oh my god, maybe I shouldn't go to the dance... no, no... I'm the starting quarterback. The whole team is going. I have to go. But... ugh, she'll be there being pretty and I don't want to ignore her or have her think I'm being weird. What am I to do?!

Splashing cold water onto her face, Fareeha rushed out in time for Calculus. The numbers and formulas weren't enough of a distraction; her mind raced with nothing but Angela.

It continued to do so all the way up to the pep rally. Blue and white attire stuffed the bleachers as the entire student body rejoiced before the rival game between the Overwatch Paladins and the Talon Warlocks. Fareeha sat in the back, clapping along with the enthusiastic crowd. Her heart thrummed as her anxiety for both the game and the dance clashed. Now wasn't the time to be distracted; people were counting on her to follow through.

She held a breath when the varsity cheerleaders took to the center of the gymnasium to perform a routine to top off the pep rally. Angela stood front and center, pom poms in hand and her glowing smile brighter than everything else. An overplayed pop song blared through the speakers as the cheerleaders danced in formation. The students screamed and jumped for them, nearly blocking Fareeha's view. She peeked past the bodies and managed to lock her sights onto Angela.

Never before had Fareeha bothered to give the cheerleading squad more than passing glances. The guys on the team might have drooled over them, but a hot body alone didn't sweep Fareeha off her feet. But now she found someone with both qualities: a rich mind and killer looks. Not to mention a kind soul. She recalled their eyes meeting the other day when Angela collected her papers from the floor. That smile... it warmed Fareeha's heart. If only she could always make Angela smile.

The music climaxed and several cheerleaders supported Angela up for their final stunt. She balanced flawlessly on one foot before bracing herself for a basket toss. Twirling midair, Angela plummeted to the safety of her bases' arms. The crowd roared. Even Fareeha joined in the thunderous applause.

If Angela could pull off such a complex move with utmost grace, then surely Fareeha could lead her team towards victory.

As the crowds dispersed from the gymnasium, Fareeha joined her fellow teammates to prepare for the Homecoming game. She donned her equipment and jersey and listened to Coach Morrison's usual tactics and pep talk. With a resounding cheer, the team donned their helmets and took to the field.

The lights nearly blinded Fareeha, but the excitement from the stands urged her onward. Not a single seat was vacant in the sea of blue and white. She caught sight of her mother by the sidelines, lifting a foam hand marked with #1.

Ana whistled sharply. "Go kick some ass, Fareeha!"

A snort sounded beside her. "Oh my god, is that your mom, Amari?!"

She glared at Lena, yet cracked a slight smile. "Can it, Oxton."

The embarrassment subsided and gave way to something else. Her eyes drifted to the cheerleading squad flailing for the team emerging onto the field. Front and center, once again, was the lovely young lady who continued to capture Fareeha's thoughts.

She tried not to stare, shaking her head to free herself from the delightful distraction. I need to focus on winning. I need to give her a reason to keep cheering.

They faced their opponents—a mass of black and purple jerseys. The Warlocks might have outdone them the previous season, but this year the Paladins would triumph over their rivals. Fareeha was sure to see to that.

But the Warlocks continued to put up a good fight. For every plan the Paladins executed, the Warlocks had a counterattack. It didn't dissuade Fareeha, though. She bolstered her peers in their huddles, reminded them who the crowds were cheering for. They couldn't give up now. Not when the score was tied twenty-four to twenty-four. Not when they had two minutes left on the clock in sudden-death overtime.

"We can still win this!" Fareeha shouted past the invigorating roar from the stands. "We rest until it's over, but for now? Keep fighting! We got this, guys!"

Her team broke from the huddle and returned to the field. Fareeha squatted into position, checking both sides before her eyes settled elsewhere in the distance. Angela stared directly at her, shaking her pom poms with a hopeful smile.

She's just doing her job, Fareeha reminded herself while blushing through her helmet. I should do the same.

She scanned over the defensive line up—the telltale signs of a blitz. Coach Morrison's original idea wasn't going to fly if that was the case. Fareeha rolled the tactics in her mind until a solution appeared clear as day.

"Red 22!" she yelled. "Green 18! Blue 19! Hike!"

The ball slipped into her hands. Bodies collided with one another as Fareeha backed up and flicked her eyes about for an opening. Neither Lena nor Genji were in position yet.

Come on, guys. Don't leave me hanging.

A blur of white and blue blipped into view. Despite the Warlock cornerback giving Genji hell, it was the only shot she had at making a pass.

Fareeha licked her lips and dropped into position. Before her arm snapped forward, she caught another blur from the corner of her eye. Defensive lineman Ogundimu rushed her with a growl. Her eyes flashed wide. She launched the ball and he tackled her to the ground.

Her entire weight rolled on her ankle. A yelp shot through Fareeha as she crashed into the ground. Several other linemen piled on top to ensure Fareeha stayed pinned down.

But the referee never blew the whistle. Did the pass complete?

Thunderous cheers overwhelmed her more than the bodies on top of her. The linemen gradually stood up. Blue and white confetti floated in the air as the marching band boomed. Fareeha attempted to push herself to seated, only to wince at the pain throbbing in her ankle. She collapsed onto her back, almost missing the face looming above.

"Fareeha?! Oh no, Fareeha, are you alright?!"

She blinked and found Angela gazing upon her with concern contorting her face.

"You took quite a fall," Angela said, pouting all the while. "Can you move?"

Fareeha shifted her weight and hissed.

"Good enough for me." Angela lifted her head to shout. "Medic! She's injured!" Then she looked back down. "Hang in there, Fareeha," she said with a slight smile, "you're going to be alright."

Not only did the field medic arrive, but so did the rest of her team and Coach Morrison. They grinned and cheered.

"What a throw, Amari!"

"We didn't think you'd get a clear shot!"

"Man, it was so awesome! You should've seen Coach Reyes' face!"

The realization widened Fareeha's eyes. "Did... did we win?"

Coach Morrison helped her up to seated. "You tell me, champ."

She peered past her teammates. The final score read on the opposite end of the field: twenty-four to thirty.