Football Practice ((Open))

[Lark Lowell]

Lark quietly moved her way into the back of the gym where she thought she wouldn't be seen; large sunglasses and her hair combed down to try and hide her face. It probably would have blended in better at home in New York where most people dressed in black and wore that style anyhow. It was really her insistence of lingering just against the bleachers that offered her any cover.

But it was nice. She watched the others play sports and it was nice. She'd met a few of them in passing in the hall; felt a few of them as well worrying about finals. Lark watched those more than the others. Even if they didn't know her. She knew them; and that was enough to make her smile.

"Get up... get back up, you can do it. You're almost there..." The words came out as little more than a soft whisper as she watched one of the slower kids - one of the ones paralyzed about failing math - one of the ones who was scared about asking a girl out at the end of the semester. She opened her mouth like she was going to cheer when he finally caught up at the end and even made a little squeak that trailed off when he greeted Espy and he handled it.

[Flicker]

Two-A-Day practices were starting to take their toll. During open practice - the field had been littered with students of all walks, but as the sun crested the ridge and Coach Armstrong took the field, the kids who showed up early and stayed a little later, he had some dedicated athletes. Being this was their first year, there would be no cuts from the team, plus from the looks of it, they wouldn't have many 'reserves' to choose from anyway.

Armstrong smiled as he used his control over gravity to put a little extra weight on the sleds as team Defense pushed up against them. He looked over at the kids who just a week ago were getting tripped up on the rope ladders getting less tripped up on the rope ladders.

"No such thing as miracles." He reminded himself.

[Guillermo Espinosa]

Espy absolutely loved the feeling of being in pads. It was like wearing his suit of armor to the battlefield. He had requested the number 43 on his practice jersey, and got it since most others didn't really know, or care for the significance of the number. Since he was planning on becoming the strong safety for the Westbrook Academy Mustangs, he couldn't help but want to mimic his idol, Troy Polamalu of the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Espy had his shoulder on the pad of the sled, pushing forward as hard as he could with his legs. For some reason this sled seemed a lot heavier than he remembered it. He yelled to his fellow teammates as they pushed the 5 man sled uphill. "Lets go Defense! I want at least four shut-outs this season! This sled isn't going anywhere by itself!

(In case people don't know what the sled is.)

[Galactic Halo]

Chase was already panting heavily after his fourth run through the rope ladders, his feet blinding quick as his body reacted to the familiar exercise. Something about this practice was new, as the exercises were much harder now than they usually were. His arms felt heavier, each leg refused to want to move more than it should. Annoying yes, but it definitely was pushing Chase to his limit, which only brought a grin to his eyes.

He spied Espy pushing the sled along with some of the other defensively inclined players and grinned. No way in hell he was going to let Espy show him up. He was Chase Masters. Former Quarterback to the Archbishop John Joseph WIlliams High Fighting Wildcats. Nothing was going to stop him from leading from the front. And he'd be damned if he was going to give up being quarterback for the Mustangs without giving it his best effort.

As such, Chase continued to run the rope ladders faster, focusing on his quick feet and even quicker reaction time, his most important traits as a fan of the Triple Option offense, to send him hurtling through the obstacle.

Faster....faster....

[Diya Behari]

Diya slipped onto the field, her eyes darting back and forth to see if anyone noticed her. Coach had known she was going to miss the first two days of two-a-days, thanks to her long-planned (though unwelcome) trip to New York, but he certainly hadn't okayed showing up late to practice. But transit was still a mess and she didn't get home until late...suffice it to say, Diya had slept through her alarm. And now her first two-a-day practice was well into gear, and she was lurking on the sidelines. She scanned the field, wondering where she should slip in. Fall in line behind Espy on the - what were they called? Sleds. Or maybe she could follow Chase on the rope ladders. Challenge him to a race or something to spice things up and prove she was more than just a mimic.

"Behari!"

Diya jumped at the sharpness of Coach Armstrong's tone. She looked up, knowing her guilt was written across her face. "Sorry, Coach, I-"

"No excuses, Behari," Armstrong growled. "You going to be showing up to games late?"

"No, of course-"

"There's consequences to your actions, Behari. Get over there and start doing push ups."

Diya glanced over where Coach had pointed and saw another girl off on the sidelines, struggling with some push ups herself. "How many?"

"Until I think you've learned to be punctual. Now go!"

Diya jogged over to where the other girl was sweating and cursing under her breath. She collapsed when Diya took her place next to her. "Tsk tsk, Coach doesn't like late arrivals."

"Oh yeah? What'd you do?" Diya asked, sliding into position for her first push up.

The girl grinned. "Hit somebody. When I wasn't supposed to."

Diya couldn't help but grin as well - a grin that was wiped off her face as she tried to complete the first push up. It shouldn't have been so hard just to get out one. Diya was dreading how long Coach intended to make her suffer. "What's your name?" Diya asked as the girl grabbed a drink of water from a nearby bottle.

"Shanna."

"You going out for kicker?"

"Nah, I'm thinking cornerback."

"Then Shanna, I think you and I are gonna be good friends out here."

"Less chatting, more working, Behari!"

Shanna laughed, not unkindly, as Diya gritted her teeth and went into her second slow push up.

[Galvanic]

Henry had missed the first practice of the year due to being involved in the Mr. Druce incident, but he made sure to show up early for the next practice, explaining where he was even though Coach Armstrong had already known. The extra laps before the rest of the team showed up weren't protested, as Hank ran them quietly. The practices that followed, Hank was never at the head of the pack. During the conditioning he could be found near the back, urging some of the younger players to stick it out. Encouraging his teammates to push it when it looked as though they would give up. For anyone who genuinely wanted to play, he'd be there. If they were disheartened by the prowess of some of the stronger more adept students, Henry would always remind them that
"It is a team sport. There is no first and last, its all about teamwork."

A lot had changed since Henry had played, but the fundamentals were still there. While he wasn't the most talented athlete to step on the field, he was dedicated, hard working, and a positive role model to those around him. Having experience leading a team before and being a senior, he went out for the position of quarterback again

[Diya Behari]

A week after the awesome high of winning their first football game, practices were nerve wracking for Diya.

Tensions were running high on campus. You couldn't walk two feet without some sort of argument being set off - or a round of furious blushing over a stray thought about how cute someone looked today.

The football team was valiantly trying to set their thoughts aside, focus on the practices and their upcoming game. But it wasn't always successful, and Diya felt more like kicking her own ass than the dumb football.

She knew she didn't really have anything to prove to these boys - everyone had been way more cool about having a girl on the team than she'd expected when she'd confronted Coach over the summer. But still, she felt like a complete moron over every passing thought about her teammates. She couldn't help it! She had hormones, too, and she was surrounded by a bunch of guys in their physical prime.

But she was Diya Behari. She was supposed to be a professional about this sort of thing. And normally she was - but suddenly everyone was just that much more distracting when she knew they knew what she was thinking. And she was terrified that even innocent thoughts were going to be misinterpreted.

Diya lined up another field goal kick. Off it went, sailing through the uprights. She sighed in relief. Even if everyone suddenly thought she was a flighty girl, at least she could still do that.

Hopefully she would still be able to when game time rolled around. If the entire school didn't implode on itself by then.

[Flicker]

Keep things as normal as possible. That was the word down from Hererra and the school board. Coach Armstrong wondered how that would be entirely possible as he crossed the field to his team. He'd secured some extra practice time at Denton, but even so, that was only one day, and he had five left to handle on his own unsuppressed field.

He glanced at the names and their new found powers next to them. Full contact was definitely out. You never know who would short circuit or burst into flames, who now was super strong, and what was worse, most of the kids were just learning what they could do as well. Best to stick with the basics. Run the ladders, wind sprints, bear crawls. Maybe some rudimentary plays.

Normal as possible. Just another day in Westbrook. He blew a few blasts on his whistle to signify the start of practice.

[Diya Behari]

Diya was sitting in the bleachers, hurriedly finishing an apple, when Coach blew the whistle to start practice.

She still wasn’t one hundred percent sure she wanted to be here. She had...screwed up. She knew that. She knew she was darn lucky that Coach had said her spot was still open if she wanted it.

This was also her first practice in almost two weeks. She’d missed everything the week leading up to Homecoming, thanks to all of her stupid sessions with Ms. Wilson, and then of course there was now the craziness of this...switching powers thing to contend with.

“Hey Diya! Working on your manicure over there?”

Diya stood up to glare down at Derrick Cork - well, the intention was to glare down, but even being a row up in the bleachers put her at something more akin to eye-level rather than above the lineman.

Coach blew his whistle again. “Cork. Behari. On the field.”

Cork just smirked at Diya as he took his place on the field, preparing for his first drill. Diya did the same, shaking off his taunt, and forging ahead.

Once on the field, Diya felt better about returning to practice. She’d meant what she’d said to Brook: she loved being an athlete. It was practically all she knew, but she was okay with that, because she was good at it. Even if she felt perpetually off-kilter during practice. She was still clumsier than she was used to being, and still so cold and so tired. She was trying to follow Lauren’s advice - and Roach’s orders - to keep her energy up, but it was so hard.

And she could swear, every time she stumbled or missed a start on a wind sprint, Cork was next to her, laughing at her misfortune.

Half way through practice, Diya was flat out exhausted. She jogged, slowly, carefully, to the bleachers, grabbing her water bottle as she sat down to take a breather. She dug in her bag, trying to find one of the other snacks she’d stashed in there, when Cork’s voice found her.

Again.

“What’s the matter, Diya? PMSing? Again?”

At that moment, Diya was many things. Tired. Hungry. Frustrated.

But in an instant, at the very least she wasn’t cold.

As Diya had scrambled to come up with a devastating come back, her temper flared and, as was becoming increasingly common, literal flames flared up, too, quickly engulfing her body in a shield of flames. She stood quickly, mindful of the singe she’d left on the dorm stairs.

“Holy sh-” Cork started to curse, but was interrupted by his own stumbling backwards and falling on his rear.

“Behari!” Coach called, striding quickly across the field. “Get it under control, now!”

But Diya had no idea how to do that. She and Lauren hadn’t reached that point in sharing how their powers worked. In fact, Diya still knew next to nothing about how to control this.

She remembered what Brook had tried telling Abby - think cool thoughts. Maybe that would stop it?

Hot cocoa, snow days, snow angels... As Diya calmed herself, the flames disappeared with the same suddenness with which they’d appeared.

“You okay?” Coach asked, his voice still gruff but clearly concerned.

Diya nodded then glanced down at herself and groaned. Her practice gear was way looser than what she’d worn the other times she’d had an accident, and now the bottom of her shirt was scorched, as well as the bottom half of her pants. “Dammit,” she muttered. She sat back down, more in need of that snack than ever right then.

“Go change, and if you feel up to it, come back out,” Coach said. “But take care of yourself, first and foremost, right?”

“Right, Coach,” Diya said with a sigh. She pulled her letterman jacket on over her burned shirt before collecting her stuff for the trek back to her room to find appropriate practice clothing.

Coach nodded then turned around and blew his whistle. “Cork! Laps! Now.”

“Aw, c’mon, Coach, I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t care what you meant. Start running.”

[Guillermo Espinosa]

Espy was focused.

The past few days had been a blurr. Meeting with Ms. Wilson really got him thinking about what he wanted to do. Having any type of relationship was simply out of the question. He was only 16 years old, there was plenty of time for dealing with girls, right now, right now was football time.

Espy sort of missed full-contact practice, but he knew why Coach decided to keep it to drills. Espy waited for Shanna to go on the ladders before following the drill himself. He focused simply on the technique, on his speed, and then went through with sprints and cover drills without a problem.

Then the fire started.

Espy completely thought the fire he started was his fault. He must have been focusing too hard on something, he didn't really understand why it would set Diya on fire intead of Mike Jackson. He began sprinting towards Diya, knowing that if he made contact with the first he could put it out quicker than taking a few seconds to concentrate...but before he could get there, the fire quickly disappeared. Diya stood completely unharmed, with only her clothes slightly singed.

"Holy shit..."

Espy looked around to see if anyone was mocking his sprinting. Nobody was really paying attention to him, Diya did just set herself on fire.

He watched Diya head back before resuming his place on the field.