Author's Notes: THREE-SHOT MADNESS! - - This is the first in line.

"Now, where did that go?" the blonde girl kept on whining.

The nighttime sky was purplish black; gazillions of tiny white dots twinkled within the heavens. A nineteen year old girl grumpily sauntered across the football field. She was surrounded by freshly cut grass and perfectly arranged trees from afar.

The fingers on her left hand tucked her golden strands behind her left ear and her right arm protectively held close her mustard colored shoulder bag that is currently hanging on her right shoulder.

She stopped at her track when she saw a direly familiar male blonde scruffily seated on the grass. He was staring at dim nowhere while dumbly petting his soccer ball.

The Jock and the Princess

By Tammi Super Girl

The nighttime breeze blew her white button-down sweater. She tried to hang onto them and managed to wrap her slim and slightly curvaceous body with it. The weather was cold, but the hearts were colder.

Her powder blue eyes pierced at his figure. She wanted to look away but there was something that made her not to.

As expected, his royal blue orbs slowly crawled to gape at her. He bit his lower lip for a while. "Hi." There was no happiness in his single-worded greeting. There was no identifiable up or down. It was plain and simple; phlegmatic and cold.

Naminé froze for a while. It's been a long time since he actually took notice of her. After for three freaking years of ignoring each other and living like they were complete strangers, that was the first word he managed to say to her. It may seem like it means nothing, but who knows? She can find that out if she stays. She discreetly held up her forehead high "Hi..!" She uttered with a slight louder tone.

He jerked his head away from her direction and took a deep breath. Once again, his royal blue eyes that look so emotionless at the moment, stared at the horizon. There was nothing there but boringness. "Ehem." He cleared his throat. "What are you doing here?"

Naminé slightly crossed her eyebrows. True, he was a soccer player. The whole football field may be his hearted kingdom and he may be asking that because she was intruding his somewhat called territory. Even so, reality check, this is clearly the University's property, not his alone. "I'm looking for something." She answered bitterly.

It was true; she really was looking for something. She wasn't looking for him, although, even if it's hard to admit, finding him there was a bonus.

Naminé's classroom was located at the sixth floor of their building and through its windows was the precious view of the University field. Thirteen minutes ago, her drunken long pink haired guy classmate named Marluxia, threw her small blue brush out of the window. He borrowed her hair brush and when she was asking for it, he threw it out. Naminé never knew a drunk person like Marluxia could fling her brush all the way to the field. It's going to be hard to look for it because it's already dark outside. Damn 8pm classes. Why did the University allow such late schedules?

A vain popped in her head, being irritated with the past scene. She could have just left her hair brush lost but she didn't want to. She had it for more than four years and it's sort of sentimental to her. It's funny and peculiar how girls like her wanted to hold onto something unimportant.

Her black school shoes rustled with the grass. She was beginning to leave. "Is this it?" Roxas plainly uttered.

She looked back and saw her brush clutched within his left hand fingers. "Yes." She replied as she nears him. He stood from the ground and handed it to her. "Thanks… I guess…"

"I knew it was yours." He talked casually. "It landed beside my foot a while back. I thought the heavens were mocking me."

She chuckled. He lifted his eyebrows. "So..!" He turned away his head again and began playing with his ball. "How are things?"

Things? Naminé thought. Couldn't he ask how she was rather than asking how things are? She looked sideways. "…Fine..?" She answered unsurely. She was having mind battles if she's going to continue this conversation with him. "…Just broke up with my boyfriend three weeks ago."

"Yeah," he nonchalantly responded "I heard."

"Riiiight." She managed to say and her shoes began to rustle again with the grass. "See you around." She walked off, knowing though that she left her heart beside his spot.

"I never really liked Olette, ya know!" He called out to her. That was random, Naminé thought. She turned to face him again. "She's Hayner's chick." He continued.

She let out a peeved sigh. "Is there something you want to talk about?" She asked, putting her right fist upon her right hip. "Because clearly, Roxas, I wasn't asking about it."

There really was no issue between Naminé, Roxas and Olette. There was nothing close to that. Except for the fact that there was a gossip spreading that Roxas was going for the brown haired braided girl that his teammate dated. "Well I…" his eyes sheepishly darted on the ground "I just don't need another one believing the rumor."

He is still self-centered. Didn't it occur in his jock head that she doesn't care? She shunned him out of her system…and that didn't happen yesterday. It happened three years ago- right when she realized that he isn't really interested in her. She crossed him out of her list right then and there. What makes him think that she still has a thing for him? "Right." She uttered bitterly. "Good luck with that." And then she walked away. This time, she won't face him again. Never again.

There was a sound of a ball dropping on the grassy ground. "Naminé, WAIT!" He called out for the third time. She didn't turn back like she promised her self just now. She continued walking.

"What?" She soon stopped when he abrasively grabbed her right arm; her mustard colored bag nearly fell off from her shoulder.

After doing an impulsive thing, he just froze there. His royal blue eyes reflected upon her powder blue ones. He knew it. If he keeps this up, she's gonna cry. He's gonna make her cry again. "Look, I'm sorry, alright?"

Naminé's eyebrows furrowed. What is he apologizing for, she thought. "For what?" He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. "Didn't we decide that nothing happened?" She spat.

"No..?"

She tugged away her arm from his grasp. "That's what we were doing, right? We've been discounting our so called familiarity for the past years. We were so good at it. We were fooling everyone!" Then she bit her lower lip for a while. "Why ruin a good thing?"

His slightly desperate facial expression turned to unsympathetic. "We both know that all of these are just mere charades!"

Now, why did he have to bring that up? It made things worse for Naminé. "Whatever..!" She was solemnly annoyed. She hated to admit that all those years she was putting up walls against him came trembling down like a stack of Uno's.

Now, she doesn't know if ever he speaks again, she'd be able to take it. And he did. "Don't tell me it's dead as you and me."

Her heart sank. She paused and took the chance to look deeply in his eyes. This may be the last time she'll be seeing her reflection in those orbs. This can be the only chance she'd get with him and she's clearly blowing it. "I don't need to say it. You know it." She forced a smile and hoped to the heavens that it didn't tell her soul. She wished to the flying unicorns that her smile didn't look so sad.

Awkward silence filled the ambiance. It's as if everything was mourning with them. It's like the whole world stopped just to watch their drama. It's as if they were characters in a soap opera and the eyes of the housewives were piercing at them, being tensed and eager to know what's going to happen next.

She couldn't take it anymore. She wondered if he couldn't as well. So, she gave him a favor and did the exiting for them…for their welfare.

Roxas watched her back disappear. He had never felt that challenged and defeated until now. Never did a soccer match make him experience that. Why with her? She was just some chick he mistook three years ago. Back then, she was just merely a familiar face; not because he knew her, but because she looked similar to someone he thought he loved.

He was just frantic and hopeless that is why he tried hooking up with the look-a-like named Naminé. That was it, nothing more. He easily left her in the air because he thought his so called loved one was going back to him. But she didn't. He lost her and he was left with nothing, not even the look-a-like girl.

If Naminé was nothing more than a similar face, why is he now throwing paroxysms in the night filled grounds? He hurled his soccer ball as far away as he can, letting out exclaimed grunts of anger.

Soon, he calmed down. Sweat dripped off his forehead even when the weather grew colder.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Notes: HOOEEE! –plays with pointing fingers- Why did it turn out so dramatic? Anyhoo, please show appreciation (let alone gratitude) for the underground literature by giving easy-to-do reviews. This literature may be crappy but it is free...and anything free is good enough.