The team took up almost all of Seaside Pizza's tables. They tried to push as many tables together as they could, while still allowing staff to be able to walk through. Any eatery Tyra had ever been to back home was always annoyed at least a little by having a team full of rowdy teens invade their dining room, but everyone had nothing but smiles.

It had made a little more sense after seeing news articles on the walls from Zed's first year on the team. Either they were sports fans, or Zed fans, but either way, she'd never had her order taken with such a genuinely perky attitude. It was equally refreshing and creepy.

Their car group, plus Zeke, had stayed seated together along the wall, three tables squished together. Still close enough to talk to those around them, but contained enough that it was easy conversation. Their table had clapped the loudest when Coach declared he was paying for all the pizza, and Tyra may have gone a bit too hard on her order.

Her mouth was watering when her medium pizza was placed in front of her, and she leaned in to get a good whiff of that fresh bread smell. The steam coming off the pie warmed her face and she wiggled in her seat.

Thin crust. Half meat lovers, half loaded veggie. Extra cheese. The perfect combination for a pizza sandwich.

Flipping two opposing slices onto each other, Tyra closed her eyes to take as large a bite as possible. She hadn't had a chance to try this pizza place, but there was something in their cheese to sauce ratio that told her she would be coming back for more. Not opening her eyes until she had inhaled the rest of the slice, she leaned back from the table as soon as she did.

All her friends were staring at her with either concern or wonderment etched on their faces. It was unsettling to say the least. "What? Did I...get sauce all over my face or something?" she asked, swiping her tongue around her mouth as far out as it could go. There were napkins somewhere, but her tongue was more environmentally friendly.

"No, that's not it," Zeke began, rubbing a hand along his chin. "How do I even say this without sounding like some sort of asshole. We've all seen you eat at lunch. Just not as…"

The silence left as he simply gestured towards her was filled by Hunter. "Have you not eaten at all today? Or maybe yesterday? Did I just black out every other time you've eaten?"

While Tyra's eyebrows had raised expectantly at the prospect of an explanation, they lowered at his questions. "Ok, yeah, I was hungry, and?"

"Not that you eat like a bird normally or anything, but I think none of us have seen you be so...ravenous?" Fitz attempted, half hiding behind his own slice of pizza. "You know you ate those two slices in like, thirty seconds, right?"

Oh. That was the problem? "Yeah...that's because a lot of you miss me snacking in first period, and forget I have Cooking right after lunch. Sure, Zed is the one who takes the leftovers home, but I'm the one eating half of whatever dish we made in class," Tyra explained, though that only turned everyone's attention to her partner.

Unlike her annoyance at being stared at, Zed only shrugged. "If you guys had her cooking, you'd take whatever you could get. Sometimes I get three bites, other times I get an actual meal out of it," he stated matter-of-factly before taking a large bite of his own cauliflower crust pizza.

"That reminds me," Tyra got out between bites. "You still have two of my containers, thief."

Only then did he turn a little sheepish under everyone's gaze. "Oh, yeah. Sorry. They're all clean, but I'll bring them on Monday. Promise. And if not, I'll run extra laps."

Tyra snorted and held her cup of water up to hide the fact she was talking with her mouth full. "Your extra laps can be you running to your house and running back with my containers."

The table laughed at their exchange, and Hunter just shook his head and pointed at her with a slice of his pizza. "You better be careful - people might get a wifey vibe off you and be completely confused when it turns out you're actually a demon," he teased, free hand pressing to his head. He held up one finger to imitate a horn and wiggled his brows at her.

Her eyes rolled as far back in her head as possible as she flipped him off, earning more laughter from the table, as well as those within earshot. Their conversation shifted focus, back to the game, to what they thought they did well on, and what weaknesses they still felt they had. It let Tyra eat her pizza with only throwing a word or two out in contribution.

"I was wondering, Tyra," Christian started, earning her attention in his brief pause. "Why did you move for your senior year? Obviously you can't tell your parents no when they say you're moving but like, didn't it suck leaving your friends behind? And won't it mess with your transcripts if you don't have your extracurriculars all lined up?"

A long drink of water allowed her to put her thoughts in order before she opened her mouth. Only answer the asked questions with enough detail that nobody asks anything else. Nobody really seemed to care too much past the answers she supplied, but it still didn't hurt to keep everything close to the vest. "It did kind of suck moving away from my best friends and teammates, but I left the team in good hands. So even though I won't have three years as captain, I have two clean sweeps, and an interesting thing in being a student coach for a sport I've never played before," Tyra replied, ticking questions off by pressing her fingertips into her thigh.

"And as for why, my dad got offered a job, and it's cheaper here than the city, so…" She shrugged at the sentence she had repeated the most since arriving in Seabrook. That was normally the end of the conversation, but apparently Christian was an inquisitive guy.

"What does your dad do for work that he got offered a job across the country?"

"Ok, not quite that far, but he's a lawyer."

"Oh, cool," he mumbled through chewing on the end of his crust. "And your mom was cool with moving so far? I know my mom would have flipped."

It wasn't so much that it was a weird conversation - they were all normal questions - Tyra just wasn't used to people asking more than a cursory question about her moving. Nobody seemed to care to know more about her parents other than she had them. "Not really? Mom's an ER nurse, so she's cool finding work wherever. She actually works in the city too, not too-too far from where dad works," she said, feeling an odd sensation at telling a full truth. (will I name this city? Probably freaking not but idk maybe)

Zed frowned across the table at her. "I didn't know your mom was a nurse."

"Ok?" Tyra asked, palms up. What was there for him to frown about? "It's part of the reason I don't worry too much about any injuries I get - she taught me what to worry about, what to patch up and how, and what to call her or emergency right away for. Prime example right here."

Holding her palms in front of her face, she showed off the bandages wrapped around her knuckles. "This is a patch it myself. Or I guess...a Zed patch up. It's part of the reason I'm impressed with the way you bandage me up, oh capi-tan," Tyra grinned, dropping her hands so it was visible.

Laughing, Zed rested his arms on the table and leaned over them a little. "Oh yeah? I'm up to your standards?" he teased, a goofy grin on his face.

"Yup, Nurse Molina would be proud. And…" Tyra looked both ways before leaning across the table and dropping her voice conspiratorially. "Between you and me, your bedside manner is better."

The guys erupted into a bunch of oooohs which had both Tyra and Zed rolling their eyes and telling them to grow up, almost in unison. "You idiots know what I meant. Honestly…"

While she'd been the first one done, it was another while before the rest of her table was done. That was the problem with doing all of the talking - it took longer to eat your food. Tyra didn't mind sitting and chatting casually with them all. Sure, Zed was always present at the lunch table, but not the rest of them. They floated in and out, but that was one or two at a time. It was nice to get to know them as a unit a bit better. Even the other tables when she would tune out and eavesdrop gave her a little more insight into the team.

In that time, though, it had started to get a little chilly. She wasn't sure if it was from the temperature dropping a bit outside, or the fact she seemed to be under an a/c vent, but she rolled the sleeves of her neon green sweatshirt down until the cuffs pooled at her wrists. Stupid monkey arms of that green giant.

Some time between the last time he said something, and in the middle of her current questioning of how their school was allowed to sell such cute cupcakes at lunch, Fitz had stopped looking at her. Normally she wouldn't have noticed when someone stopped listening, but it was the second time she'd glanced around the table and he seemed to deliberately avoid looking at her. Wait.

Was his face tinged a little purple?

She stopped mid-sentence to look directly at him and his lavender cheekbones. "Fitz?"

He legitimately looked at the ceiling before answering. "Yes?"

"Is there like, any reason in particular you're not looking at me?" Tyra asked before pausing to rephrase. "What I mean is, deliberately not looking at me. You don't normally look at the ceiling when I'm talking to you."

She wasn't a quiet person by nature, and with so many people in earshot, she could see heads tilting their way. People trying to seem like they weren't listening to the conversation. The purple blush on Fitz's cheeks quickly deepend as he dropped his eyes to his lap.

"Are you, um, cold at all?" he asked, turning his plate with small flicks of his wrist. It made a slight scraping sound every time he moved it, which only made him appear more awkward. "Do you want my jacket maybe?"

"Uh, I guess I'm a little chilly? I'm right under the A/C. But I'm good." Her brow was knit as she looked at him - he was generally a little nervous, but this was some new level. (is nervous what I mean? Is that telling not showing?)

He stopped fidgeting with his plate and started wringing and twisting his fingers on the edge of the table before leaning over the table. Fitz even partially stood up to lean closer, though he glared as the rest of their table leaned in too. "You just look a little...um, like, cold…" Looking as if he were going to die of embarrassment, Fitz motioned at his chest.

What was even doing?

Oh.

Tyra looked down, and sure enough, she was a little pointy. Leave it up to Seabrook to not have thick enough sweatshirts.

"Are you,are you not-not wearing a, uh, a…"

"A bra?" At the question, Fitz nodded and slid down in his seat again. Tyra just sighed. "No, it was all wet. You know, from when some geniuses threw a whole lot of water on me?"

The entire table shifted, all of the boys sitting upright in their seats. Except for Fitz, who was a beautiful shade of purple as he mumbled, "Then it would be-"

"In the bag in the car? Where else would I have put it?" Tyra asked incredulously. It took a few beats of awkward silence for her to throw her hands up in the air. "Oh come on, grow up! Are you all thirteen years old and the thought of boobs existing is too much for your brains to handle?"

Before anyone could answer, she launched into what was probably an unnecessary explanation. "If I had put it on, there would have just been big wet patches where the fabrics met. That's how science works - wet thing makes dry thing wet. I didn't think it would matter if I had a bra on or not - a lot of my sweatshirts are thick enough so you can't see even if I'm freezing. I don't see how it's my fault that the school bought shitty sweats."

Her five friends nodded, and even Zed seemed unsure of what to say. Tyra looked at him for some support, but he was looking slightly above her head. "Are you kidding me," she muttered, rubbing between her eyes. "Do you have any idea how many girls every single day are probably not wearing bras at school?! Whether because their tits are small enough that it doesn't matter, or because of the cut of the top they're wearing?"

"True, but we aren't aware of that," Christian pointed out, suddenly interested in his phone.

"Ok, fine. How about dances where there is no way they're wearing a bra, even if it were strapless? You're not idiots. Do you have trouble not staring at their boobs then? Or are you human - or zombie - beings, and function like normal people? Huh?" She was back to being loud, and the rest of the team was doing their best to not be involved even in the slightest.

"No, I'm not gross."

"I'm not a perv."

Other similar things were mumbled by the guys, and she groaned as she pushed her chair back. The sound it made just added to her disappointment as she picked her phone up off the table. "I'm going to go wait at the car until it's time to go, let everyone calm down from the apparent excitement."

Tyra wasn't waiting at the car long, and she kept her arms crossed as she plopped into the passenger seat. It was nothing to do with her lack of bra, and everything to do with her irritation, which only grew the longer the ride was silent. "Seriously? Are you all going to be back to normal on Monday? Or will we just go through the entire practice with nobody able to look at me?" she demanded, twisting to try and see everyone.

Zed finally figured out how his mouth worked. "We just didn't want you to think we were like...staring at you or anything. After we knew you weren't wearing a bra."

"...were you staring before?" Tyra asked, remembering that first practice and the reason for their extra laps.

"No!" they all exclaimed in unison, though Fitz's was more of a squeak. The baby really wasn't able to handle much.

"Then why would I suddenly think you were staring at my boobs?" The question was asked slowly to let all the words sink in. Really give them time to think before answering. Time they took, from the amount of silence in the car.

"That's a good point," Hunter sighed, slumping in his seat.

"I know it's a good point, it's why I said it," Tyra muttered.

It didn't take much longer to get back to the school parking lot, and there was lots of waving as they exchanged goodnights, see you laters, and drive safes. As soon as Tyra was safely in her car, she thumped her forehead against the steering wheel. "Boys…"