Sorry for all these prompts taking so long to be filled, but I promise they will all be filled this summer! This was prompted by Peddie213! Yet another spin-off of chapter 63: Goth Cheerleader... enjoy! :)

Patricia climbed to the top of the cheerleaders; the pyramid that they had spent countless hours perfecting, was finally going to be seen by an audience, the rival high schools. Even though everyone from both schools were watching her, she could only feel one pair of eyes on her; Eddie's. His green, piercing gaze gave her confidence and she sighed in relief when she finally made it to the top, finally finishing the difficult climb. She was happy.

But what happened next surprised her and knocked the wind right out of her. Something rammed into her stomach and then she was falling, a split second a shocked cries—and everything went black.

Eddie watched the ambulance pull away from the curb. He had wanted to go with Patricia, but Joy had taken that position before he could say anything. So he gave himself the mission of finding the person that had thrown the football at his girlfriend.

He let his eyes scan over the crowd and they eventually landed on his father speaking with some of the rival team members and their coach.

Eddie gritted his teeth and marched over to them. He let them speak for a moment, waiting to discover which of the guys had thrown the ball. And when the coach slapped a hand on the tall brunette's shoulder and an apology followed a minute later, Eddie gripped the back of his green and white jersey and spun him around to look him in the eye.

The eyes that met his were brown and filled with annoyance.

"What the heck, man? Back off." He pushed the American's hand away.

"No. You threw that ball." He stated, his thoughts jerking him back to the moment when his heart had literally stopped beating in his chest as Patricia fell to the ground. His eyes flamed. "You were the one that threw it."

"Listen, man, I'm sorry; I didn't mean for it to hit her. I swear. I hope she gets better. If you want, you can have the girl I was gonna hang out with after the game." He shrugged.

"Conner—" the other team's coach cut in but Eddie spoke,

"Listen, Conner, the girl that you knocked off the pyramid is the only girl I ever spend my time with after games. She's my girlfriend."

"Oh…well, no offence, mate, but isn't she a bit out of your league?"

"Ha, oh, dude…" Even snorted somewhere behind Eddie.

"Yeah, she's out of my league. And she's worth every single punch my fist gives your face." He spat, his fist already swinging out and hitting Conner's jaw. Eddie smirked when he heard the satisfying crack his lower jaw had made at the impact of his knuckles.

"Dude, I get that you're ticked off—!" Conner tried to reason, massaging his chin.

"I'm more than just ticked off; you didn't need to do that. You could have just told me that you don't like the school and the team instead of trying to kill my girlfriend!"

"I didn't try to kill your girlfriend, man—I swear! I was just trying to freak her out, throw her a little off balance. I would never try to kill someone!"

"Big mistake," his vision suddenly went completely red, and he lashed out again; the sound of a nose cracking this time. His fist met Conner's temple and his jaw again before he started to fight back.

Eddie's jaw was hit, and then his temple, and then his stomach, before the two boys were pulled away from each other; Conner by his coach and Eddie by Jerome and Alfie. Mr. Sweet stood in between the two boys and frown.

"Mr. Franks, Mr. Mayor, I think it's best if these two stay out of the rest of the game?"

The coaches nodded their agreement.

Conner was led away and Eddie stormed to the cold, metal bench on the edge of the field. He sipped from his water bottle and let his eyes wander over the game as it progressed without him.

"He wasn't worth it anyway, mate." Jerome pointed out, stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

"Yeah, but she is." he muttered, resting his elbows on his knees, dragging his fingers through his dirty-blonde hair.

"Yeah, I know. I would've done the same thing for Mara." His friend chuckled as he left him alone.

Eddie smirked. Jerome hardly ever told him something he was doing was wrong; he always understood, or tried to understand, when he wanted to. He was a

good friend. But his smirk dropped and shifted into a worried frown. He hoped that Patricia was okay.

"Hey, Yacker, how's the arm?" Eddie asked, jogging up behind her.

Patricia turned and shrugged. "It'll be fine; don't worry."

"I'm glad you're not hurt."

"I have a broken arm, Weasel Face."

"I know, I know; I mean, really hurt, like a concussion, or in a coma—or dead."

"Okay, I get it…" she sighed. She grabbed his shoulder and pushed him around to face her. "Did you find the guy that threw that ball and beat him up for me?"

"Of course," he smirked.

"Thanks, Slimeball,"

"Anything for you, Yacker,"

Okay...review! :)

Now, some horrible yet somewhat exciting news: When this story reaches 150 chapters, I will put it on hold. I'm very sorry, but it must be done. But the good news is that because it'll be on hold, that is one less story I have to work on, which means that I would only have a few more stories to finish before you guys can get some new stuff to read! YAY! :D But I am very sorry that this will be on hiatus, because I know that quite a few of my readers only read this story (so go check some others out, yea?). Again, very sorry, but I have quite a few drabbles to go before I get to 150. So enjoy while you can! Next chapter will be up soon... :)

Therefore I tell you, stop being perpetually uneasy (anxious and worried) about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink; or about your body, what you shall put on. Is not life greater (in quality) than food, and the body (far above and more excellent) than clothing? -Matthew 6:25

-Rachel