9 years later

James sat down on the hot metal bench of the bleachers, contorting his face into one of discomfort as he attempted to properly adjust himself to the scalding hot seat, and stared out onto the large football field as people slowly began to prepare themselves for the oncoming game. A whistle blast was heard from the other side of the field. A loud *THUMP* was heard as the football was kicked high into the air to the opposing team. James watched, lazily, as the ball soared through the air before landing into the arms of the enemy team. People got up and started cheering loudly as the game soon began. James, on the other hand, leaned back, resting his arms on the bench directly behind him, and sighed.

James had never been one for sports: in fact, he hated them. The concepts of sports just didn't seem to sit well with him. He mainly thought of it as a bunch of sweaty guys or girls fighting over a ball, or a puck or some other dominant factor that lead to victory, which was rather short lived until the next game took place. It was a boring 'rinse and repeat' cycle that was nothing more to him than a colossal waste of time.

Someone was tackled at the halfway point, and the whistle was blown. People began calling things out to the ref; as if it were a bad call or something that let their team gain an unfair advantage. The ref's call, however, was final and the game went on with no further interruption from the crowd. James shook his head. Why can't the players on the field think things through for themselves? In the end, they were all simply idiots following a veteran, who thought of cunning strategies to get his soldiers through the enemy lines.

James raised an eyebrow and made a small smile. He never really thought of football that way before. He made a mental note to himself that the sport could actually be some variation of war tactics.

The boy beside him, a large, stocky being with brown hair that had been bleached blonde, slapped James on his skinny shoulder. James cast his attention away from the war zone tactics simulation and back to the boy who had hit him. The boy smiled at James warmly. "You enjoyin' the game James?" He asked heartily, a deep, bass-like voice that still held onto a cheery
sounding octave, "You barely smile at any sort of sport, dude!"

James turned his attention back to the game. "I was just thinking about some stuff," James admitted, "the thought made me smile. Not the game, Bernard."

Bernard shook his head, his smile still present on his face as he sat down. "I'll never understand you, bud. How can you not like sports? It's always just 'video games, video games, video games' with you!" He turned his attention back to James, "you, my friend, need a new hobby!"

James leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together in front of his mouth. "if you want to find me a hobby, Bernard," James began, his voice holding a slight edge, "why did we have to start with my least favorite thing? At least video games make more sense."

Bernard, confused at his friends frustration, raised his hands and defense. "Hey; first off, I'm entitled to my own opinions. Even if they're about you. Secondly, this game isn't about finding your potential interest; you CHOSE to come down here with me. You bought the ticket with me, remember?"

James' hand got to meet the warm surface of his forehead. "And I immediately regret it."

Bernard smiled, wrapping an arm around his friend. "Smart ass comments aside, I'm grateful you came down with me. It means a lot to me, really." He roughly patted his friend on the back, causing James to lean forward a little at each impact.

James raised his head from his hand and smiled back in response. "Ah, it's nothing. You're a friend, and I know this means a lot to you. Besides, I kind of owe you one after you came with me to that gaming tournament."

Bernard chuckled loudly. "You mean the one where you whooped my ass in every match we played? Dude, I didn't even KNOW you could play Melee that quickly! I always saw it as a party game!"

James sighed and shook his head at his friends comment, however his smile persisted on his face. "Well, now you know. Better prepare yourself because 20XX is coming soon."

Puzzled, Bernard cocked his head to the side. "20XX?"

James' smile vanished off of his face in an instant, and he turned his attention back to the players on the field. "It's a Smash Brothers thing. Don't worry about it. Just enjoy the game."

Bernard smiled apologetically at his friend before returning his attention back to the game. "Well, that's something I can do."

Suddenly, a touchdown was made by the home team, causing the crowd to erupt into cheers, applause and some boo's. James turned his attention away from the crowd and glanced back at the highschool behind him. He began pondering if he had forgotten anything: it was nearly summertime and he was in the eleventh grade, and he would rather not risk having his mark unexpectedly drop due to some measly paper he forgot to hand in. It could impact the courses he could choose for next year, and the thought shook him a little. However, he managed to shrug it off and return focus to the football game where two players started becoming a bit unsatisfied with each other and the threat of a fight loomed. James closed his eyes for a moment; his talk with Bernard had started making him think about Smash Brothers, and his mind began cycling through the list of technical information that he had memorized, from Wave Dashes to L Cancels. His hands slowly began to mimic the button patterns as if he held an invisible controller within his hands.

His mind decided to stop on the subject of Multi Shines, and he grinned as the familiar sounds of the game began to play through his head. It was one consecutive noise repeated over and over, yet the thought and sight of it was incredible to behold. He opened his eyes and found the cheerleader team had already taken to the field and performing a routine, causing the crowd to whoop and holler as their spirits raised dauntingly high. Even Bernard was standing and cheering, beads of sweat apparent on his face, due to the broiling sun and the constant
movement.

Once the cheer squad had finished their routine, one of them, a young, attractive brown haired girl broke away from her team and made her way into the stands towards James. James stiffened as the girl approached, and he bit his lip; he knew exactly who the girl was, and began panicking. Quickly turning his attention to Bernard, he tapped on his shoulder to get his attention and signaled to the approaching girl.

Bernard grinned as James, refusing to speak, made hand signals as quickly as possible. "Oh, dude... just play it cool! You'll be fine."

James gritted his teeth, infuriated at his friends useless advice. "Bernard, please... I can't-"

"Oh, yes you can!" Bernard interrupted loudly, signalling for the brunette to come closer. She smiled in response to Bernard's gesture and moved through the sea of people. Bernard leaned in close to James and whispered excitedly, "I told you; you needed a new hobby. Now's your chance!"

James, clearly not in the mood, began grinding his teeth out of frustration and nerves. "No, now is NOT my chance," he whispered aggressively, "I had chances the other few times, and did they end well Bernard? No. No they did not end well at all. You remember; I can't talk to girls," he turned his attention back to the approaching girl, sweat began to drip down his face, "there isn't going to be some great exception today and shit is just going to magically change. It's going to stay constant until the day I die, Bernard. I'll be single until the day I die."

Bernard shook his head. "Look dude; I get it. You have a crush on her. You don't know how she feels about you though. But you're never gonna actually KNOW until the day you TRY."

"You say that as if I HAVEN'T tried, imbecile."

"Who the hell, says that word anymore? Look; doesn't matter. She's on her way here now; you have a chance: work with it!"

The girl finally approached and smiled, bright teeth flashing in the sunlight, "Hi James!" She said happily, "hi Bernard," she acknowledged politely, and Bernard politely raised his hand and dipped his head in greeting. "Heya Em," he said lazily. James, on the other hand, simply raised a hand in hello. The football game was suddenly looking a LOT more fascinating to him.

Emily sat down beside James. "I'm, uh... not interrupting anything between you two, am I?" She asked curiously, "because you both seemed to be in a rather deep whispering argument."

James laughed, maybe a bit too loudly. "Nope, nothing like that! It was just about, umm..." James scrambled for an excuse, analyzing Emily's outfit before spawning a smart idea, "the cheerleading team! Yeah, they looked awesome this year!" James smiled to back up his statement, while Bernard nodded in agreement.

Emily cocked her head in confusion. "I saw you with your eyes closed for half of it, James..." her soprano voice announcing the contradiction in James' lie.

James' mind stumbled for a moment, temporarily stunned by Emily's observation, before putting an arm up to his head and running his hand through his short, black hair, sweeping it to the side, something he commonly did when he was stressed, nervous or, in this case, both, and letting out a small laugh. "Yeah, but I saw the REST of it! I didn't miss ALL of it!" He continued to laugh, hoping his new theory would hold its weight.

Emily, somehow, cocked her head further, bringing a finger up to her chin in thought. If you liked it so much, then why didn't you get up like everyone else?" She asked curiously.

James, once again, reeled at her response, he glanced at Emily, her brown bangs covering her left, emerald green eye, a curious, innocent look on her smooth face. 'Why does she always have to look so cute?' James thought silently to himself, a small blush apparent on his face, "Umm... well, y'see..."

Bernard grinned. "Yeah, James, tell us WHY you weren't so excited for the cheering squad!" He said smugly, causing James, now completely red in the face, to shoot him a death glare. Bernard laughed in response to his reaction.

James thought as quickly as possible and wiped his forehead of sweat. His mind clung to the thought of sweat and, suddenly, the idea sprung into his head; "it's because it's so freakin' hot out!" He replied finally, after a tense moment, "yeah, I didn't want to get up because it's SO hot out!" He began fanning himself with his hand, "you know how it is. Hot air rises and stuff."

Emily began laughing aloud along with Bernard. James, gave them both confused looks before turning back to Emily, who had seemed to calm down a bit faster than Bernard. She smiled her million-dollar smile. "Oh, James we're just teasing!" She rested a hand on James' leg and he nearly jumped out of his skin, "still, I'm glad to hear you liked it though! It took a lot of time and training to pull it off!" She beamed.

James slowly brought himself back to reality. "Yeah, well, where's your excuse? You claimed you saw me from the beginning of the performance with my eyes closed!" His smile managed to make itself back onto his face, "you mean to tell me you were watching me the whole time?"

Now, it was Emily's turn to react, as her face turned crimson in response. "Well... umm... during a performance, people say to focus on one point and never change your focus. I chose you since you were... in the middle of the crowd and... you were a familiar face?" She smiled at the end of her explanation, hoping James would buy it.

James decided to shrug it off and let it slide. "Alright, alright. I'll let you off easy." He calmly admitted. Emily giggled at his response but the blush on her face from James' observation still persisted, though less prominent.

Bernard leaned towards James, a smug grin on his face. "Yo, look at you go! And you said you couldn't redeem yourself for your past attempts!"

James swatted him away. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," he muttered under his breath before turning his attention back to Emily.

Emily looked at James quizzically. "So... why did you really not get up AND have your eyes closed, James? You're making me curious." She leaned forward and looked him in the eye.

James' fear gripped him again like an iron gauntlet as Emily's green eyes seemed to pierce deep into his soul and steal it like a Darkwraith. 'A very cute, attractive, unarmed Darkwraith. Who's also a cheerleader.' "Do you want the truth, or do you want me to lie and sound cool?"

Emily smiled playfully. "You don't have to lie to sound cool when you already ARE cool," she said smoothly. She seemed slightly nervous as she said it, hoping it wouldn't sound awkward.

James blushed deeply and let out a small laugh and rubbed the back of his head, 'I was just called cool… from my crush… no pressure...' "Umm... well, I was thinking about Multi Shines."

Emily suddenly seemed truly confused for once instead of the mock confusion she displayed beforehand. "Multi...Shine? What is that?"

"Um... well, it's a bit of technical stuff from Super Smash Brothers Melee and-"
"Oh." Her expression seemed to darken slightly at the sound of his answer, "I see. Nevermind then."

She turned her attention back to the football game while James gave her a disappointed, confused look. "You... didn't even let me finish," he said sadly. Having a lengthy discussion on a good game was one of his favorite ways of passing the time with other people, but Emily hardly seemed to care at all, "or start for that matter..."

Emily sighed, exasperated and turned his attention back to James. "Look, I'm sorry, but I just don't like video games. That's just how I am. I'm into..." she gestured to the football field, the crowd and everything else, "this. I want to be outside and being..." she looked for the right word, "productive. That's the word; productive with my life. I'm not into the thought of wasting away in my parents basement surviving off of junk food and soda, staring at a bright screen for hours on end with a chance of getting Carpal Tunnel-"

"Enough." James cut off Emily before she could continue any further on her rant, his expression grim, "I get it, thanks."

Moments after, Emily finally realized she struck a nerve with James, and looked at him apologetically, her mind scrambling for a way to make it up to him. "W-well, I guess not all gamers are like that... I mean, you're here! So, that means you like sports, right?"

James cast her an irritated look, as if the conversation had finished running its course. "I hate sports," he said bluntly, shutting Emily's hopes of redeeming herself down.

Emily continued in her race for an idea that would hopefully be able to fix her mistake, when suddenly, James rose from his seat. "I think I'm gonna head out now. See you later Bernard, Emily," his voice was low and quiet, his expression still dark as he turned and left the bleachers through the sea of people, towards the direction of the school; he had to pick up some of his stuff before he could head home anyways.

Bernard sighed deeply. "Ah, dammit, dude..." he muttered to himself as he got up from his spot.

Emily, who was now on the verge of crying, looked up at the stocky boy. "Where are you going?" She asked, sadness embedded in her voice.

Bernard shook his head. "Where else? I'm going after him. You should come along too. Apologize to him."

"I doubt he would-"

"I think NOT apologizing is the second worst thing you can do to James," Bernard stated honestly, "besides offending him like that."

Emily looked down at her feet, "did I really hurt him that badly?"

"Let's just say," Bernard began moving through the large crowd of people, "everyone MAY be entitled to their own opinion, but they should still be aware of who they're vocalizing it to, and how they say it. That's the big problem with freedom of speech," he turned back to Emily, "you coming, or are you just gonna sit there and feel sorry for yourself?"

Emily slowly got up with a sigh, "okay," she said, taking on a quiet tone herself, "I guess I can try."