Yup, it's decided. I'm only doing this story for now. And as for Fang being OOC last chapter, I know. That was my goal. I have an older brother who's popular and a past boyfriend who was, so I know how differently guys act when they're with friends compared to when they're with family or something like that.

Max

"Hey, Maddie," I said in the Spanish room, gesturing for my friend to come over. We had fifteen minutes till the bell rang and announced that school was over.

"Yeah?"

"Want to come to Lonn's office with me? Get my ankle wrapped up." I gestured down to my ankle. It still hadn't started acting up, but Jeb wanted to be safe and wrap it. I'd already gotten in plenty of trouble for not wrapping it at Friday's practice. No way was I being benched for not wrapping my ankle that's already freaking healed.

"Sure." We waved to Senora Karson, who didn't even ask where we were going, and left the room. "God," Maddie sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I hate Mondays."

"Doesn't everybody?" I asked, and she nodded in agreement. I stopped at the vending maching, grabbed a Nutter Butter, and soon we were in Lonn's office.

"Can I help you girls?" he asked as he came around the corner. For being our school's athletic director, the dude was tiny. He was probably just over five feet tall, and he couldn't weigh over 100 pounds. But somehow his military-style cut and his past as a cop helped him...not get ignored by students.

"I need my ankle wrapped for the game." I hopped up onto one of the padded beds and leaned against the wall, removing my shoe and sock so that they wouldn't be in the way.

I watched as he wrapped it tightly, and he applied pressure with his hands when it was all on.

"Feel okay, Max?" he asked.

"Yep. I don't know why it even needs wrapped so badly." I rolled my eyes, but knew better than to argue. I pulled my shoe back on, listening to Lonn talk.

"Well better safe than sorry, right? It'd suck if you made it to State but couldn't play because you didn't want to wrap your ankle." Lonn shot me a strict look, as if he thought I'd remove the tape or something. Which... Well, I wasn't going to do it now. Not after what he'd just said.

"Yeah, yeah." I looked over at Maddie, who was impatiently picking at her nails. "Ready?"

"Let's goooo," she replied, grabbing my wrist and pulling me away just as the bell rang.

XxX

"Oh. My. God. These uniforms are so badass." Maddie was standing in front of the mirror in the locker room, admiring herself in the brand new uniforms we'd gotten. "Come look, Max!" She reached over and grabbed me arm, pulling me forcefully in front of the mirror. I had no choice but to look. And agree.

These uniforms were badass.

The shorts were long and baggy, reaching down to my knees, and they were shiny black. Down each side were two solid gold stripes. The top had no sleeves and it had a slight V-neck to it, but nothing major. It was also black with the same two gold stripes. In gold lettering on the front it said "Nixon" in big bold letters and, slightly smaller and just underneath slightly to the right, it said "Eagles" in script. On the back was the number 15 for me. We didn't get last names on uniform, since it was just high school ball.

"I see you're still rocking the tape, Max," said a junior, Hayley, sarcastically. She tapped the piece silver tape that was on top of my head, holding my flyaway hairs in place. See, even in its usual sloppy ponytail, I had all kinds of flyaway hairs. My head was oddly shaped for headbands or something, and bobby pins weren't allowed, so I used duct tape. Got all kinds of attention for it too.

"Hell yeah," I muttered, smirking at her.

"Girls!" called Jeb from just outside the locker room, which was our cue to hurry our butts up and get to the gym. I threw on the new warm-up tops, which were the same as the actual game tops except they didn't have the number on the back and they had T-shirt sleeves.

We all got lined up, me in the front, followed by Hayley. As soon as "All I Do Is Win" started blaring out of the overhead speakers in the gym, we slapped our hands on each side of the doorway for good luck and jogged out.

"Let's go, girls!" screamed Kara Marten excitedly. She was pretty much the leader of our student section. Tonight we were having a "black out," so everybody was sporting a black line under each of their eyes, as well as full-black outfits. A few of the more rowdy boys in the front had on Darth Vader costumes and masks.

I grabbed a ball from the rack and dribbled to the other side. The other team hadn't yet gotten out here, but I knew they were good. They were our rivals, the Bishop Panthers. Even though it was our last game of the actual season, we would be playing them in post-season games, like Districts. Possibly Sectionals, hopefully not State...

Their student section was relatively large. In basketball student sections are usually tiny or nonexistent, especially at away games. But today their student section had about eighty people, a row or two less than ours did.

I got in the back of the line to warm up layups, so I stood and stretched my arms, carefully rolling my ankle and putting weight on it from different angles.

Lindsey threw a ball at my chest, which I quickly caught. I sprinted out, throwing it to Hayley, and jogged to the three-point line. She then threw it back, and I sprinted up to the hoop. Girls on my team were warming up their defense, so I dodged them all and jumped up, easily sinking the ball through the net. We did this for a few minutes longer.

Next we warmed up three-pointers. I sunk four of the five I shot. Usually I played better in games, when I was under pressure.

As we put the balls back on the rack I watched the other team finish their warm-ups. And damn, they did look good. We were undefeated so far, but this game looked as if it might actually be a close one.

We went back to the locker room, where Jeb made sure it was safe to be and followed.

"Alright, girls, we all know Bishop has a good team," Jeb began as I pulled my warm-up top off over my head. I bundled it up and sat down, biting my thumbnail. "I want you guys to play hard, even from the beginning. Don't foul if it can be helped, but use that defense we've been working for." As he spoke, Jeb made eye contact with each and every one of us. His eyes stayed locked on mine for a moment longer than the others'. "Ignore the student sections. Don't let them get to your head. Bishop has a really annoying student section. They're going to treat you like our student section has treated everybody so far." Jeb finally stood up from where he'd been kneeling. "Play hard, girls." Then he walked away, off to take the clipboard to the announcer so our names would be right.

"You heard him, ladies," Maddie finally said.

We exited back to the gym, where the band was standing to begin the Star Spangled Banner. We lined up in the center of the gym, the other team right in front of us, the cheerleaders and dance team right behind us. We held hands and at the very end brought our hands up above our heads.

"Your starting lineup for the Bishop Panthers...," the announcer started to say, but I ignored him. That or our student section started to boo so loudly I couldn't hear him. I sat down in a seat at the edge, holding my bundled-up warm-up top to my chest and fighting the urge to bite my thumbnail. I got so nervous before games, but when I was out there it was fine. Except for free throws. I could puke every time I had to shoot a free throw.

"And now the starting lineup for your own Nixon Eagles!" Our student section slowly and reluctantly stood. Even if they were super-supportive (sarcasm; more like super-rude to the other team) they were a bunch of tired teenagers. "First up, number 27, junior Hayley Evans!" Hayley stood up and ran through the aisle made by the dance team. The guy went on, naming off the rest of our starters for the game (which did include Maddie), until it was just me and the subs on the bench. "And number 15, senior Max Martinez!"

I stood up and jogged through the tunnel, aware of the student section cheering loudly. I jumped into the circle of our starters. We bent down, our hands tight around each other's shoulders, and went left and right, yelling, "Aaah!" for about eight seconds. Then we yelled, "Let's kick butt!" On "let's" we stomped our right foot behind our left ankle, on "kick" we stomped it right behind, and on "butt" we...well, kicked our butts. Yeah.

Our circle dispersed and everybody got in their place. I got in the center, directly in front of a girl on the other team. I was tall, so I always did the swat at the beginning. This girl was tall of course, but still failry short. Maybe she had jumps or something.

The ref blew his whistle, tossed the ball up, and stepped back.

I had started in a crouch, and so I used all the force in my legs to jump up, extending them fully before leaving the ground. The other girl jumped higher than I'd expected, but I still swatted the ball. Maddie caught it, and so the game began.

She dribbled down to our hoop, but had to back up as multiple girls from the other team were already there, grabbing at the ball.

"Max!" Maddie yelled, and she threw the ball under one girl's arm. I caugh it from where I was, a few feet behind the three-point line. I decided not to take the risk barely a minute into the game, so I took a quick bound forward so that I was well inside the two-point range, which was a guarenteed shot for me. A girl jumped at me, swatting her arm out for the ball. But the ball was gone, so she shoved my chest forcefully.

I stumbled backward, not really because she'd pushed me that hard, more because I was keeping my eye on the ball. I'd thrown it a millisecond before she shoved me. It sunk through just as the ref blew his whistle on the other girl's foul. Our student section erupted in cheers.

Wow. Really? A free throw already? I hate free throws about as much as I hate banana pudding. Which is a lot. (I mean, seriously? Pudding is made to be chocolate. Go eat a freakin' banana if that's what you want.)

"You got it, Max," Lindsey said, high-fiving me lazily.

I wasn't sweating yet, but my breath was beginning to catch a little. I glanced at the scoreboard. Two points up, forty-eight seconds into the game.

The ref passed me the ball. I made sure my toes were just on the free throw line, bent my knees, and dribbled the ball a few times. Then, keeping my knees bent, I got prepped and ready. I straighted up and extended my arms, watching the ball go. I didn't jump on free throws like on my usual shots, for fear I would accidentally step over the line. I just lifted my heel and shot off my toe.

The ball went cleanly through, earning me a high-five from two more girls on the team.

I dribbled the ball again and repeated my method. This one wasn't so neat - it bounced off the backboard and on the rim twice - but it still went through.

"Nice shot, Max," I heard Jeb say from somewhere through the chaos.

I didn't even acknowledge him. The other team had rebounded and were now heading to the other end of the court.

I took one deep, steady breath, and sprinted after them.

Fang

"Na na na na...na na na na...hey hey hey...goodbye!" The other student section was chanting at us crazily, but me and my group couldn't care less.

So what if we'd lost? We'd all known they would anyway. Despite the fact that Nixon is our rival, we admit that their basketball girls are way better than ours.

And hotter too.

But it didn't matter, anyway. This game was just to provoke the student section, which we had achieved with a few chants of "airball" throughout the game. But very few. Their girls were good.

Our guys were going to State, though. I didn't care if Nixon placed last or second, but the Bishop boys basketball team was going to be the State champ this year.

"No, no, number nine," Jon argued with Drew, another senior. He gestured to the girl on Nixon's team with a nine on her back. They were huddled around the coach still, so all I could see was that she had insane calf muscles and dark hair, but I figured they were arguing over who was the best-looking.

"Whatever. Which one do you think, Fang?" Drew eyed me, tilting his head toward the other team.

"Whoever swatted at the beginning. She was hot." I shrugged.

"Fifteen? The one getting a drink?"

I looked over at the orange Gatorade stand. Sure enough, the girl who'd swatted, number fifteen, was chugging down some water. She was tall for a girl, nowhere near my 6'2'', but her tall physique made her slim. I could tell that she was athletic (like, more than one sport athletic) and worked out a lot. She had muscles on her legs that weren't overexcessive, but were definitely noticeable, and lean muscle on her upper arms that was the same way. She sported her long dark blonde hair in a messy ponytail, with something silver on top of her head.

"Yeah. That's her." I nodded and continued to look at the girl.

Every time somebody gestured toward her she would get this shy smirk on her face, almost like she was blushing, but no pink showed in her cheeks. So she seemed shy, but she also got in a smaller huddle with a few other girls when their coach's speech was done. So she was somewhat shy, but comfortable around people she was close to. I was guessing.

Damn, I thought, ignoring everything my friends were saying, I would not mind bumping into her accidentally. Yeah, Fang. Accidentally.

"Hey, guys, I'm gonna run to the concession stand," I said. Then I patted my left pocket, making sure I had my money. "Just go jump in the truck. And pee before we leave this time, right, Jon?"

"Screw you, Fang."

I rolled my eyes and left my friends, jogging out of the gym and to the concession stand. Since the game was over the huge crowd was in front of the doors, but once through there nobody was in my way.

"I'll have a chili frito pie, please. And a slice of pizza," I said, the moment I reached the counter. I wanted to get home and start on that stupid math assignment we had to do.

"Pepperoni or supreme?" asked the girl working there, who looked like a freshman. "We're out of everything else."

"Supreme." She nodded and got to it while I stood there, leaning against the counter, yawning, and pulling out my phone to reply to texts every so often.

"Hey, Nudge," said another voice. I saw the hot girl, number fifteen, come around the corner. She saw me but didn't acknowledge my presence.

"Hi, Max," said the girl behind the counter. She put my food down and said, "The chili frito pie will be another minute."

"Do you have any more popcorn?" asked the hot girl, Max. "I'm starving."

"Yeah, let me grab you some." Nudge smiled and turned to go off.

With Max preoccupied watching Nudge get the popcorn, I took this as the time to look her over more thoroughly. I could tell from here that her eyes were a deep shade of brown, and she had the slightest hint of freckles on her pale skin. She had a black bag with gold lettering slung over her shoulder, and she was now wearing baggy black sweatpants and a cutoff T-shirt that showed off her blue sports bra.

Stop, Fang, I told myself. I was liking this girl way too much.

"Hey," Max finally said, and I was surprised to see she was talking to me.

"Hey." Lame. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. I'm Max." She held her hand out. I took it in a firm grip and shook it once, letting my hand fall back to my side.

"Nick. But most people call me Fang." I smirked when her eyes flickered the tiniest bit at my nickname. I loved those reactions from people.

"Here ya go, Max," Nudge said, hopping lightly back. She put the popcorn on the counter in front of Max. "Sir," she said politely, and she put my frito pie beside my pizza.

What? Sir? What the hell was that ab -

"Max!" somebody yelled. It was some tall guy who I could see had a can of chew in his jean pocket.

"Just a sec, Tyler!" Max turned back and looked at me. She smiled, flashing a set of straight white teeth as she put a dollar on the counter and picked up her popcorn. "See ya later, Fang!" she called, and then she turned and jogged off.

"Yeah. See you later."

I just now finished this all, and it's 10:30 and I'm tired. So sorry if it makes no sense. I hope you enjoyed anyway! (:

To midnightstar96: No, but my cousin is! I think. I don't know. I haven't talked to her in, like, two weeks (forever in our world) and I never pay much attention when the word "school" is brought up. But I believe she's in that district. I'm not, though.

So that reminded me... If you guys ever have any questions for me, no matter how random, just leave 'em in a review and I'll put my reply in the next chapter!