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Chapter 2

Big News

1

After Jim's successful banter with Cassidy, he had been on such a high, that after he left the campus grounds, he went down to the corner store to get some snacks, and had just waltzed right on out of the shop without even paying, eyes glossed over the entire time.

This act of petty thievery only recalled itself to him later that night, with a sudden exclamation appropriate for the deed.

"Oh shit!"

-What wasn't appropriate, was the fact he'd said this right in the middle of dinner, with his father raising his brow at him from the other side of the table.

"What's wrong?" His father's shoulders tensed, as if expecting some harmful blow.

"I, uh..." Jim's hand fell down to his pocket, where a bundle of coins wrapped in a dollar note jingled quietly there. "I... left my textbooks in my locker!" He swung a disappointed fist for emphasis. "Darn!"

His father's worn expression hinted at a lingering suspicion, but he was either too tired or bored to pursue it. His bowl clinked as he resumed dipping his fork into the stew. "Again? The mid-terms aren't that far away. Now's not the time to start slacking."

Jim found it easier to pick at the tablecloth than to look at his father, so that's what he did, feeling smaller and smaller with each word spoken. His prior victory with Cassidy seemed very far away now.

Wonder if the whole thing had been made up, _Jim wondered. _It went so well.

The parental scolding, however, was not make-believe. Even if his lie had just been a cover, it was still a reminder that just because he'd talked to his crush, it didn't mean his studies would get any easier. It might even have the opposite effect.

"But you know what you're doing," his father remarked, perhaps more to himself than to Jim. "Anyway, forgot to ask earlier - how was school? You talk to that girl you mentioned?"

"What? No, yes, I, how did you...? Yes. Why?"

Father grinned as he dipped his fork into his bowl. "Wondering if you'd worked up the courage yet. Hard to approach women just like that."

"It... was, yeah. But I... _pounced, _like you said."

His father smiled, perhaps because Jim had taken his advice to heart. A rare occurrence, they both knew. "Well done, son."

A flutter in Jim's chest, but it wasn't the _good _kind of flutter. He hadn't really 'pounced' at all with Cassidy, of course. And yet to tell the truth would send his father's approval rating down the toilet, and Jim couldn't remember the last time his father had just... _smiled _at him like that. It was the only thing making his lingering guilt bearable in that moment.

"First steps are always the hardest." His father gestured at himself. "-everyone just needs a little push. I certainly did, back when I was a single mingler."

"Even with mom?"

Whatever father was about to say, was cut off with a surprised blink. By the way his expression dipped, it seemed Jim wasn't the only one feeling guilty. "Yes... Even your mother."

An awkward silence pierced the dining room, but before it could settle in, Jim's father quickly acted. "Wash up once you're done." The wooden legs of his father's chair squeaked as he stood. Jim was aware that father hadn't finished even half his food. "I've got some work to do. Imagine you'll be doing the same?"

Despite lying about his textbooks not being present, Jim nodded, and soon he sat at the dinner table alone, hearing the quiet sound of his father's computer booting up in the other room.

_Every time I bring her up, _Jim thought, shaking his head as he placed dirty cups and bowls into the dishwasher.

After cleaning up, Jim shut himself in his room upstairs, his textbooks laid on his desk before him. But it wasn't long after he read through this week's notes that he quickly grew bored, his Garchomp friend the only thing not willing to leave his thoughts be.

After a half hour's valiant attempt at study, he flipped open his phone, keypad clicking as he typed in something Jim thought much more important than his upcoming assignments.

_Cool famous dramatic poems, _ the blocky letters on his phone read.

Jim's eyes were glued to the screen as he scrolled down the search results.

2

Friday afternoon drills always hurt the most for the Mythics. The grand freedom promised by the weekend was locked behind one last cross-field sprint, one last body-pile in the muddy playing field. And it wouldn't be a classic Mr. Bahril finale without fifty pushups on one's knuckles.

Jim wasn't the only one who collapsed after just thirty. He'd just been too exhausted to go on, and not because he'd been distracted by Cassidy and her cohorts cheerleading on the other field (though she had waved at him at one point). Speaking to her had at least settled some of his obsession.

Mr. Bahril had the team stay back well after Cassidy and the cheerleaders had departed, and Jim didn't blame her for not waiting around for himto finish up. Until every Mythic was on the verge of passing out - or passed out already - staying on campus after hours was of no concern for coach.

"Getting you limp-dicks ready for the games is all that matters," Mr. Bahril would have said, or something along those lines if asked. The sun was well on its way to the horizon by the time training finally came to an end.

"Butter my biscuits, that was a flog, hey guys?" Isaac asked, tired but still ever so cocky.

No one could be bothered answering him, except for someone telling him to shut up from the distant restroom. After a quick shower, Jim was about to head out when Matty called out to him.

"Hey Jim, couple of us are heading out for drinks. Coming?"

Jim went to say no, then chewed his lip in consideration. He hadn't gotten any study last night, on account of his new obsession with poems, and he'd told himself he'd make up for it tonight. But after today's training... he wasn't really in the mood.

"Yeah, what the hell."

"You can tell us all about your new dragoness," Isaac chimed in.

Besides the on-campus bar, there was only one other place worth going to have a good time. While most of the city was grey and dull, there was one little golden conglomerate of entertainment that drew every local to its lights. _Our own little Vegas Strip, _Jim's dad had once described it.

One could find anything they wanted in the valley, and the deeper one went the more _adulterated _the venues became. Luckily the tavern Matty drove them to wasn't too far in - they only passed _one _brothel on the way there.

The satisfying clink of clashing pool-cues greeted the Mythics as they entered the establishment. It was a modest tavern, if a bit in need of a clean, with dirty overhead lightbulbs casting a flickering orange over the busy dining hall.

"There's a booth," Matty said, pointing to one of the corners. "You guys go nab it, I'll get some drinks."

Leather rumpled as Jim planted himself closest to the window. Outside the glass, one could see parts of the sea stretching from left to right, where tall, flashy buildings didn't disrupt the view of the coast. He remembered only a year ago one could see the islands from this very building without difficulty.

City was developing fast. Or maybe he'd just been too busy to notice. Perhaps both.

"Why the distant eyes, Jimmy?" Isaac asked, elbowing him. "You look like some Greek philosopher, staring out like that."

"I'm just thinking."

"Oh no, that can't be good." A few of the others laughed.

"Probably shouldn't have come tonight," Jim continued.

"Told you!" Isaac waved at the surrounding hustle and bustle. "Come on, what's better than a Friday night drink with the boys? Don't tell me you fucked things up with that dragon."

"That actually went pretty well."

"See? We all had faith in you, Jimmy. A hundred percent! Makes you wonder what the point of all that worrying was."

"I'm just saying I should probably be studying. Didn't get much done this week."

"There's always next week," Isaac replied, a dismissive hand raised. He was looking out across the room. "God, how long's Matty gonna make us wait?"

"He's got a point," Gavin said, who was sat across from Jim. "Assignments and exams'll all pile on at once. And if coach keeps pushing us like he did today, might have to consider skipping a few sessions."

"Mr. Bahril's not gonna let that stand, buddy," Isaac said. "I saw coach looking at that black clipboard of his yesterday, you all know the one. Something tells me today's slog was just the start."

"Isaac's right, for once," Matty said, just catching the conversation as he returned, a couple of drinking glasses clutched in his hands. It was a wonder he had only spilled a few drops from only one of the drinks. "Nate says his dad's thinking about weekend training, so this might be the last chance we'll have. Better drink up, boys."

A collective groan was shared, Nate being the only one present not to participate. "It's not _definite, _guys," Nate said, tracing the rim of his glass with a nail. "But yeah, dad met with some suit the other night. They were talking about us."

"Us? In particular?" Isaac asked. "We didn't do anything! I think."

"Not just us, the team. DDad sat him down, wearing this getup that looked pretty formal. They talked about the campus, hell, the whole damn university. I think the suit said he was from the National Leagues."

That got everyone's attention. Even Isaac shut his trap for a moment of rare silence. "The Nationals?" Jim asked, suddenly glad he'd come along. "You sure?"

"I didn't hear much, dad sent me upstairs and told me not to come down the whole night. They had dinner, dad had it all planned out. My room's right above the kitchen, so I had my head against the floorboards the whole time. I could be wrong, but... I heard the Leagues come up a couple times, and we all know coach wouldn't waste time on people he thinks aren't important."

"Could be he's looking into our upcoming games," Matty wondered. "That'd explain the sudden gear shift today, and the possible weekend sessions."

"He could be sponsoring our team!" Isaac said, taking a gulp of his beer. "Hear that, Jim? Forget about studying, if this guy is from the Nationals, think about it! We could all get a free pass out of here, straight to the big-time!"

"If that's the case," Gavin said. "we'd have to go all the way, no runner-up second place like last year. Sponsors only offer shit to the best of the best."

"Well duh!" Isaac said. "Apart from the Spartan's I'd say we got this year in the bag. 'Course there is that Charizard who joined the Nova's. Bet he'll be a pain in the ass, that is if the rumours are true." Isaac paused. "You haven't told anyone else about this have you, Natey?"

The young man shook his head no. "Well then let's keep it that way, yeah?" Isaac continued. "Everyone agree to shut their traps about this? Any of the other teams find out and we'll lose our one-up on them. Hopefully, we can get through most of the season without it becoming a big thing."

The monitor hanging in the far corner of the room had its volume dialed up to max by a curious viewer. Like most other TV's occupying taverns and bars, they could barely be heard over the ambience of the venue, so actually hearing one was unnatural enough to draw the general attention of all the patrons. Even the pool games in the back had stopped to listen to tonight's top headline:

"Government officials landed today as part of a new country-wide sports funding scheme; the local budget alone expected to rise by over twenty percent. This marks the most expensive plan the government has introduced to the sports industry since 1989. Councilman Lathan had this to say..."

"-our young boys have been training hard all year round, and now they're finally going to get the recognition they deserve along with a bit of friendly competition. Not only will this help with bringing the spotlight onto our little community, but we're also providing great incentives for all our kids to get out there and have their shot at glory."

"Universities across the state will be the main focus of the program, with kick-offs set to begin in the next few weeks. Now on to Rhonda with the weather..."

The Mythics reactions were a general mix of shock. Matty had made a little 'o' with his mouth, Gavin had his face buried in a palm, and Jim's expression was of the worlds most pained smile. Only Isaac managed to pick his jaw up off the floor and attempt to be the positive voice in the group.

"W-Well, nobody listens to the... the news, right?"

3

After the weekend, it was the talk of the campus, to put it lightly. Every student and lecturer seemed bound by fate to mention the big news at least once per day. Even the notice boards held at least one pinned message each about the upcoming first game.

20th May 12:00pm, oval No.2

Mythics vs Strikers

Add your voice and cheer our boys on!

Not even the middle of an important lecture could save Jim from being reminded about the game. Nor could lunch break, or on the bus home, or even in the urinals - someone would always be there to ask him the same old thing:

"Excited for the game, Jimmy?"

"Ready to play ball Jim?!"

"Got some moves planned for the game, Jim?"

"Hey Jim can I borrow your pen-"

Same shit different person. Normally Jim wasn't an anxious guy about sports, but the constant reminders were getting on his nerves. The only person who didn't have the need to remind him was his coach, of all people. Jim thought he'd at least mention the whole deal, but Mr. Bahril simply went about yelling and cussing as usual. The grueling drills and exercises were more than enough a reminder regardless.

Least it's Tuesday...

No cheerleaders today, so Jim got changed and walked down to the hall after training, alone. He made sure to slap on an extra layer of deodorant under his pits before pushing the double doors of the hall open.

The theatre club was gathered on and around the stage, a few of its members posed like they were in the middle of a scene. One of them, the Lapras he'd seen before, was in the middle of what Jim assumed was her line at the moment he'd barged in.

She, and all other Pokémon and human alike, grew quiet and turned as one. It was as if Jim was an estranged outlaw from the movies entering an unwelcoming bar. A dull _bar, one with cobwebs and missing chairs and cracks in the walls. He wondered if this place was vandalized on a _weekly basis.

It didn't come as a surprise that they'd see Jim as some sort of alien intruder - even he didn't expect to come here more than once. The same could be said for the club itself, as Jim swore there were less people here than last time he was around.

"Yo," Jim announced, doing something between a salute and a wave with his arm. He chucked his bag along with the rest of the pile by the door. The collective gaze from the club could just about make Jim cringe right on out of this reality.

Thankfully Cassidy came to his rescue. Her generous figure was hidden behind a sports top and slim-fitting pants today, with holes cut out to allow her thorns to breathe. Jim tried not to stare too much this time around.

"You're back," the Garchomp said, flashing him a quick wink, before turning. "Told you all he'd show. Now we can get started."

"Started?" Jim echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Forget already?" Kendra asked, the Typhlosion burning holes in Jim's head by her stare alone. "Shouldn't be surprised - there's no tackling or other physical violence involved in here. You're to be our... our, eh..."

Kendra gulped, as if the next words would be easier to say if they were vomited out.

"_Feedback, _on our latest soliloquy's."

"... Huh." Jim blinked. "Made it pretty clear last time I wasn't really welcome."

"Yet here you are. So you might as well make yourself useful. Today's the last day we're open to non-club members. Indefinitely. So don't get comfortable. Just... go sit down over there and wait."

"I'll get my pen and paper." Jim unzipped a pocket on his bag. He caught Kendra's attention before she moved off. "Hey quick question, uhm, what's a 'silly-key'?"

Flames pluming from the back of her neck, Kendra rubbed her temple with a paw. "Jesus Mary... C-Cass can you-? Because I just can't right now."

"You just go organise the others alright?" Cassidy put a clawed hand on her friend's shoulder. It might have been a trick of the eyes, but Jim saw the fire-type's flames cool down just a tad. After watching Kendrago, Cassidy turned and grinned toothily down at him. "Heya. How was training?"

"Yeah, good. How's theatre?"

"You'll have to tell me, Mister Feedback. Took me forever to convince Kendra to let you stay just one more day."

Jim watched the Typhlosion order the other members onto the stage. "She seems to listen to you more than anyone else. You two close?"

"I've known her since she was a Quilava. Not knowing what a soliloquy is, well, it's pretty high up on her peeve list."

"Guess that list rolls on all the way from here to the bus stop."

Cassidy snickered, a sound as satisfying as a penalty kick winning goal. "More or less. Thanks for coming by today. Part of me didn't think you'd actually come."

"I said I would, didn't I?"

Cassidy seemed genuinely surprised by his expression, fueling Jim's confusion even more. "You did, just... With the games coming up, I thought you'd be busy."

"Busy schmissy," He shrugged. "I could use the distraction."

Cassidy nodded, but as she went to speak, a loud, fire-type beat her to it. "Cassidy! Anytime today, thank you!"

"Coming!" the Garchomp called over her shoulder. She grinned at Jim. "We'll talk after, okay? Oh, and a soliloquy is like a monologue."

"I got it, good luck."

Jim took his place in the middle of the front row of (remaining) bleachers. These were the kind one finds at a discounted Cinemax, the foldable ones with the backs bolted down. Plastic creaked as Jim made himself as comfortable as he could.

The Pokémon and human actors had split into two groups, each taking to the flanking steps leading onto the stage. Cassidy was at the back of the left-hand group, a paper in her hand like most of the others. Obviously, Jim was looking forward to hers the most - hopefully nobody here would slog out too much time.

"Ready everyone?" Kendra asked, drawing the attention from all. The performers murmured an affirmative. Jim wasn't asked. "Amelia? Why don't you get us started?"

It turned out Amelia was the club's Lapras. As she silently moved on to center stage, Jim took it upon himself to start off the applause. When nobody else joined in, he played it off by wringing out his wrists, dying on the inside the whole time.

Amelia the Lapras had a few excerpts from Shakespeare planned for today. Jim was pretty sure it was from Hamlet, but he wasn't familiar with who exactly she was supposed to be quoting from.

So he let her go on for a minute, before he raised his hand, and eventually the Lapras went quiet, blinking her glassy eyes at him. "Y-Yes?"

"I was just wondering what your character's name is? It's not Ophelia is it?"

"N-No. Mine's not a part of the original play. Clemence is a cleaning girl in the background of the plot."

"Oh cool." He wrote the name down.

"Any more interruptions?" Kendra snarled. Jim grinned and shook his head. "Continue, then."

Just as Amelia picked up from her last line... _Bang~! _ It sounded like a cannon had been fired. The walls vibrated from an impact fierce enough to make the Lapras jump. From somewhere outside came the sound of a laughing group of hyenas.

Nobody needed to draw the curtains to know a ball had been thrown at the window, and very much on purpose. Judging by the way the club acted, it seemed they'd put up with the interruption for some time, perhaps even accepted it. Unlike Jim, who frowned in the direction of the noise.

Amelia continued on, the sound of the bouncing ball kind of like her baseline by how frequent it became. Not five minutes had passed when the ball once again slammed into the window, more laughter following right after. The Lapras had been building a decent rhythm, and each time she was interrupted, her cheeks grew more and more red.

"-T-Tis about time thee bid farewell, for I-"

Bang~!

Amelia winced, and Jim felt bad for her. He put down his notebook and raised his hands.

"The hell is that?" he asked, storming over to the side of the hall. "How do you guys rehearse with this crap going on?"

"We've asked them to stop," Kendra explained. "Just ignore them. And sit down, Jim, she's not finished."

"Give me a second here, Amelia." Jim tried the door on this side, but found it was locked. He considered asking for the keys for only a second, before reaching up and tugging the curtains back. Sunlight blared brightly through the normally dim interior, illuminating all the dust lingering in the air.

Jim coughed his lungs clean and pulled open the window, the lock snapping after a pathetic bit of resistance. "Jim!" Cassidy called, but the young man was already vaulting through the frame, shoes clicking as he hit the concrete.

It was almost disgusting how stuffy the hall was compared to the fresh, outside air. He was probably the first to open that window in a hundred years, and his lungs thanked him for it.

A wide, concrete path ringing this side of the hall was shaded by a strip of metal roof sheets. Sparse, aluminium support beams surrounded a group of students gathered around a roughly square-shaped court, drawn on the ground in white chalk.

There were about seven of them, all younger than Jim by a year or two, and skinnier than twigs. Their constant yelling and shouts of joy were brought to an abrupt halt by Jim's surprise entrance, finding himself right between them all.

"Take this somewhere else, guys." Jim said, folding his arms over his front. "Theatre club's practicing."

"We have a theatre club?" the one with the handball said. Jim nearly told him he thought the exact same thing, but the guy's rat-face didn't seem the kind Jim wanted to relate to. "Sounds pretty gay, ba dum tss!"

This was somehow enough to elicit a snicker from the others, that hyena-like laugh more annoying now that Jim was right in the middle of it.

"There's like four proper courts down by the oval," Jim said. "Go play there."

"But we like this one!" the one holding the handball said. He tossed it from one hand to the other. "And that window makes for some mad shots! Look!"

He leaned back, like the most over-exaggerate bowler in the world, even adding in a little pirouette before lugging the handball straight at the window. Yet before it could slam the glass once again, Jim's hand stopped it inches from impact, his palm experiencing a momentary zing of pain.

None of the students even saw Jim's arm move, just a short blur of movement.

Jim moved through the middle of the court, passing the guy who'd thrown the ball, and looked up. The short fence ringing the whole university stared back at him from up a short incline.

Jim grinned, aimed with his left hand, pulled back his right, breathed out, and threw the ball over with a grunt of effort.

Like a dropkicked kitten, the ball went soaring high and mightily. It almost swiped the tail of a car driving by at that second as it landed on the street beyond. It bounced off the far curb and landed in a clump of bushes in somebody's front yard.

From behind Jim, the handballers all looked like flabbergasted fish, mouths moving but no words coming out. "You're right," Jim said, dusting his hands. "that was a mad shot. Ba dum tss."

Some of them looked about ready to blow up, but Jim was in better shape than any of them, in no small thanks to Mr. Bahril's ruthless training, and he used it as well as his height to make himself more intimidating. Even though they outnumbered Jim, it was easy to tell that like their ball, their fight had left them.

"You'll regret that, asshole." The one who Jim thought owned the ball said, storming away with steam coming out his ears. One by one, the rest of the entourage soon followed.

When the last one left, Jim saw the whole theatre club pressing their snouts up against the glass, watching him with a comical variety of slack-jawed expressions.

He caught the eye of Cassidy's draconic face watching him with no small measure of intrigue. Jim gave her a stupid smile before moving over and jumping back through the window, the club giving him some room.

"Alright then," Jim said. He gestured at Amelia. "Where were we?"

"I, uhhhhmmmm." Amelia picked her jaw up and blinked. "I was... near the end anyway, so..."

"Ah come on, you were pretty good, I wanna hear it all. Right guys?" He looked to the others. "Kendra?"

"... Yes. Of course." The Typhlosion regarded Jim, with a glare of course, but there was also a bit of something else there too, just hidden very well. "Yes, wrap it up, Amelia, we've got plenty more people to go through."

Some of the members praised Jim as they moved back to the stage, but only one of them stood out among the others, and who else would it belong to apart from a certain Garchomp?

"Nice," was all she said, all she needed to say to make Jim's face flush red.

"I-It was nothing."

"Quite the opposite," Kendra interrupted, putting herself between him and Cassidy. A talon found its way right in front of Jim's eyes. "You know what stunt of yours will costus? What if they tell a teacher?"

"So what?" he asked.

"So...! So... nothing! Just sit the hell down. Come on, Cass..."

The female Pokémon left Jim standing there, shrugging to no one in particular. "You're welcome," he mumbled, grabbing up his notepad once more.

Now that they'd achieved some peace and quiet, Amelia could finish up what she started. Although Jim had heard enough of Shakespeare back in high school, it was obvious the Lapras had done her homework, although there were one or two more 'thee's and 'thou's' than were necessary at some points.

And that was exactly what Jim told her, after Kendra asked what the 'male gaze' thought of the performance. Amelia took it all with a smile, a thoughtful fin on her chin as she considered his notes.

Over an hour later and about half the club had gotten their time in the spotlight - not literally though, those had been stripped down along with the rest of the building's grandeur. There were a few worth recalling, like Bernard the Blastoise and his World War sketch. Caius, a Lucario acting as a begrudging monster-hunter (monsters being only human volunteers). And who could forget Tira, the Pichu cosplaying as Thor, her electric touch adding a good splash of realism to the show.

Alas, just when Jim thought it was getting close to Cassidy's turn, Kendra interrupted the proceedings. "That's our time everyone. We'll pick this up next time."

A few moans and disapproving head shakes, but none seemed to be more annoyed than Jim, if one could believe it. Group by group, the club slowly filtered out into the afternoon light. After slinging his bag over a shoulder, Jim went and asked Kendra when exactly the next session would be.

"Why?" she asked right back. Jim blinked, once and deliberate.

"Well we didn't get through everyone today, did we?"

"Too bad, isn't it? I told you earlier today was your chance, and let's see here..." From her pocket she flipped out her phone, peered at the screen. "Ah, yes, today is now _over. _As is your demeaning of my club members."

"I think you mispronounced criticism."

"And I think you didn't hear me. We're done. _End of story, goodbye, _full-time. Any of this getting through that block-head of yours?"

"You know you can come down and 'demean' me during training whenever you want, I wouldn't mind the pointers."

"I think I'll do that!"

"Good!"

"Good!" The Typhlosion's flames were full-mast by this point, shouldering past the human with a scowl on her face. He had to duck to avoid a nasty burn.

He was a little annoyed, of course, but somehow his mood lifted when, on his way out the door, Cassidy hopped to his side, chops turned up in a childish grin.

"That was fun!" she said.

"For a little bit, yeah." He pointed a thumb behind them. "You catch that chat just then? Kendra thinks I was too hard on you all today."

"She's just never had an audience before. Besides, who doesn't like a bit of honest feedback?"

"Got one or two names off the top of my head..." Jim said, blinking when Cassidy laughed. Did she actually think he was funny?

They reached the branching paths out of the campus all too soon. Jim was about to bid her farewell, but the dragon beat him to the punch.

"Lectures really had me swamped today." She turned to him, rubbing one of her horns. "Know any good places to get a coffee?"

"Coffee?" Jim asked. "Well, there's a... a lounge not too far from here, they got some mean mochas. Know the way?"

She couldn't have looked more unimpressed at that moment, her mouth flat as a line, hands by her hips. "I just moved here, remember?"

"O-Oh, I, uhm..." He stammered out an apology, but Cassidy just laughed at his expression.

"I'm only teasing you. A lounge sounds nice." She glanced at her watch. "Care to show me this place? If you've got time?"

_Do I ever, _Jim thought.

4

He hadn't actually visited the lounge in a long time, but their brew had _tang _then and he hoped they still had it now. The décor of the lounge was a retro of the recent 90's, with cozy copper-coloured walls flanking many hanging garden pots. The mix of boiling caffeine and earthy scents could please any nostril.

After ordering, Jim and Cassidy took a booth with a street view. He was at first wary she might not be comfortable in a booth on account of her large tail, but the she-dragon simply curved the appendage round her flank and tucked it in her lap.

"Gorgeous place," Cassidy said, giving the lounge a glance-over. "Everywhere used to look like this when I was little. Reminds me of home."

"The colours are neat," Jim remarked, putting an arm up on the table. "Used to come here all the time with my friends, chill after a long day."

"Just what I need."

A waitress came by, two steaming mochas on a plate. "Thank you." Cassidy brought the cup to her snout, took a breath. "Mm, smell's delicious."

She tipped the cup back, her long, crimson neck exposed as she took a sip. Even with such a small movement she possessed a certain elegance Jim found intriguing. "Mm! Tastes even better!"

Jim agreed, his own drink having just the right amount of kick behind it. "Way better than that trash they have on campus, huh?"

"Are you kidding? Their _depresso _machines have nothing on this brew."

They shared a collective chuckle at that, then slowly grew quiet after a moment. He took another sip and decided to not let the quiet drag on and ask why she had a long day.

She told him about how today was nothing but lecture after lecture, and she segwayed into her studies. Her range of subjects was fairly vast. Economics, social studies, mathematics with Professor Hode, the most boring teacher this side of the country...

"Wait, did you say Hode?" Jim asked. "I'm in his class as well. I haven't seen you."

"You're probably in the later classes, I'm in the morning lecture - only one that had an opening. Some way to start off the day, isn't it?" She set her cup down and leaned on the table. "That's why I joined theatre and the cheerleaders. Offset the grind, you know? And you certainly brought some excitement this afternoon."

"What, that handball thing?" He shrugged. "It was getting annoying."

"And that's enough to make you jump out the window?" She laughed. "Kendra's put up with them for months, she'd never do something as crazy as that. Neither could I. Maybe it's a human thing."

"What is?" he asked, not following.

"Being so... _protective, _like that. A good trait in a male, isn't it?"

"W-Well, yes... yeah...?" Jim could feel his cheeks burn up like the sun. He stuffed his face in his cup before Cassidy could see.

"And then-!" Cassidy's laugh continued into her next sentence. "And then you just pegged _their ball over the fence! What did you say right after? _'You're right, that was a mad shot, bad dum tss'. The looks on their stupid faces, oh dear..."

She jammed her snout into a paw to stifle her hysterics. Jim tried to be modest and shrug it off, grinning himself. "Wonder if they've gotten their ball back yet," he thought aloud.

"I doubt it, you threw that thing hard. I've only seen throws that good on TV."

"Ha, well..." Jim wasn't all that good at being humble, but now was a good time for a bit of a boast. "Balls are my speciality."

... And he'd never been good at bragging either, it turned out.

He'd said that right as Cassidy was taking a drink, and only after she snorted, her eyes boggling in their sockets, did he realise exactly what he just said.

"-Waitthatcameoutwrong," he said, trying to salvage some of his remaining dignity. Cassidy was too busy coughing and laughing to hear him.

"_I-It went up my nose! I think it went up my nose!" _It was hard to tell if she found this development funny or painful, maybe both. Jim quickly placed a napkin in her hand. She wiped at her snout several times until she got under control.

"Sorry, I-I just..." He pathetically facepalmed. "Sometimes I don't hear what I'm saying and I..."

Poor Jim couldn't even muster up a _poor _excuse. Cassidy wiped a tear from her eye, a few last giggles leaving her system. "You're funny, you know that? I'm glad we had theatre today."

His shame took a backfoot to the compliment, grinning at his own stupid words.

"Probably my last one though," Jim said, glancing to the right. A man and a woman at another table were watching them, whispering to each other. They looked away when they noticed Jim had caught them staring.

Cassidy followed his gaze, and her smile dipped, just a tad, but it was enough to make his heart sink. "You'd think they'd never heard someone laugh before." She traced the handle of her cup with a claw.

"Don't worry about them. Some people are... beyond help." He was about to cuss real hard but held back for the sake of manners.

"You don't have to make excuses for them. Plenty of Pokémon act the same." She shrugged, bringing her mocha to her lips. "But you were saying? About today being your last visit? Don't you like the stage?"

"It's not that, I just got this vibe from Kendra, you know? She didn't appreciate... well, anything I did. She might singe my eyebrows off if I go down there again."

"I think she's just overreacting. The others really appreciated your help, Jim. They've wanted to perform live for some time."

"Not all of them got the chance," he said. "Speaking of, what was your performance gonna be?"

She regarded him with a smug grin all too at home on a dragon's face. "Fishing for a sneak peek? You'll have to wait until it's my turn."

"And if miss flame-neck's got me on the ban list?"

"I'm sure she'll come around."

They sat quietly as they finished off their drinks, but despite it all the silence wasn't awkward. He took a moment to examine all the raw alienness of her compared to a human woman. The scales instead of skin, the star on her snout, the thorns across her arms and crown. Did they make any sort of close-contact awkward, those wicked-sharp thorns?

She still shared a few human traits, of course, and although the inhuman parts of her were intriguing, her chest was shapely enough to keep him staring. He wondered if her crimson scales went all the way over them.

Cassidy caught him looking. "Scrappy, isn't it?"

"Huh? What? No, they're f-"

"I really do need some better clothes." She picked at the sleeve of her shirt. "These are so old, and bland, you'd think a dragoness could stand to clean herself up a bit."

Jim started to say something about how they're not that bad, anything to make sure she didn't notice his rudeness.

"You're nice, Jim, but I can see the signs. I've been meaning to see more of this city since we moved, but my parents have been a bit busy lately, and going out alone seems rather mundane." Her eyes narrowed at him. "Besides, I wouldn't know where to look for clothes."

"Target's got some stuff," Jim began, but stuttered when a little voice in his head begged him to shut up.

She's giving you an in, numb-nuts.

"-for chums, I mean! Target has stuff for chums, but there's plenty of places in the valley. If you'd like, I could, er, well... show you the best ones...?"

"Oh?" Cassidy grinned. "You mean like a date?"

Jim couldn't trust himself to not say something dumb, so he just nodded.

"_Hm. _Well, if your taste in fashion's as good as your taste in coffee, then sure. What time? Friday night I'm free."

"Yeah, uhm, what about we meet here around about three? We can walk."

"Great, you can show me round the town while we're at it."

They soon finished their coffees and paid their bill, the Garchomp letting him pay half. The late afternoon breeze swept at the two as they left the lounge.

"I should really be going, look how late it is." Cassidy turned to him. "Daddy's probably worried sick, but I think it was worth it."

She touched him on the wrist, her grip soft and tender, the talons pinching but in a good way. Her hand was warm, not scolding, just the right temperature to make him feel cold afterward.

"See you later," she said, and then she was gone, slipping past him and disappearing down the street. He watched her go, waving even though her back was turned.

"Bye," he said, blinking when he examined his raised hand, the one she touched. It was still tingling. "God, how did I do that?"

The only person in earshot was some guy sitting down nearby, watching the whole exchange, and he could only offer Jim a polite shrug.

5

This development with Cassidy brought a wave of relief for Jim, who found the week going by swiftly leading up to the big date. If he was distracted before during his lectures, Jim's notetaking had seen nothing yet. All of his thoughts were focused on the coming Friday. It had been a long, long time since he had to worry about showing a pretty girl a good time.

_Too long, _he realised. What he'd had with Lara, how it had gone down in the end, chasing Cassidy's tail reminded him of these things, things he'd rather leave be.

But this wasn't the only drawback his plans with the dragoness brought with. God seemed determined to work against Jim, because he'd heard from Isaac that Friday afternoon, the same time his date with Cassidy would be, was one of many new additions to the training regimen.

"Don't believe me?" he'd said. "See for yourself, Jimmy boi'."

And sure enough, there on the campus main noticeboard, in Mr. Bahril's handwriting, the new timetable stared back at Jim, mocking him with its new times.

"Shiiit." Jim leaned down, to make sure his eyes weren't fooling him. "There goes Friday unwinds, Nate was right."

"Yeah, if weekends go next, we may have to stage a coup d'état!" Isaac slapped his friend on the back. "Ah well, we weren't doing anything Friday anyway."

"One of us was," Jim corrected. "Well, is. Dammit, dude..."

"What's that? Since when do you have weekend plans?"

"Hey I go out all the time."

"Out with your dad, maybe, but not without the boys you don't. So what is it, fancy dinner with the relatives?"

"No, I..." Despite a voice screaming to not tell his frenemy, Jim had to relent. "I got a date, actually. With Cassidy."

"Who?" Isaac bit his lip in thought.

"The dragon cheerleader, douchebag. Who'd you think?"

"Oh. Oh... _Oh!" _It seemed to take three exclamations for Isaac to finally comprehend what Jim was talking about. "Jimmy you sly dog! How'd you pull that off?"

Jim recounted the basics, not giving out too many details, and maybe exaggerating a few parts to build himself up a bit.

"So she just up and asks you for coffee?" Jim had been hoping for praise at his boasting, something to really knock some since into his cocky friend, but instead all he got from Isaac was a concerned frown.

"Is it that hard to believe?"

"Yeah!" Isaac said, gesturing. "I mean, look at you. Need I say more?"

"Fuck you, seriously. Every girl here keeps at least fifteen meters away from you at all times, so you can't talk."

"And you can't date this derg, look!" Isaac ripped the notice off, paper tearing loudly as he shoved it in Jim's face. "We got training to do. You'll have to ring her up and cancel."

"Ah, hmm. About that. We didn't exactly... trade numbers..."

"Jim!"

"What? She never offered!"

"And you didn't ask! Hopeless piece of..." Isaac rubbed his eyes, taking this more personally than he probably should have. "Well you'll have to pray to all the dark gods that she understands the game comes before her." Isaac huffed, putting the notice back on its pins. "Not unless, you know, you try and skip training. That'd really take the cake..."

Isaac turned, saw Jim considering him with a thoughtful finger to his chin. It had been years, perhaps longer, since the last time Jim took Isaac seriously, and this alarmed the former greatly. "Oh no, Jim, I was joking!"

"One session, just one. It couldn't hurt-"

"Jim...!"

"I've never missed one before, so surely..."

"Jim!" Isaac took his friend by the shoulders, gave him a shake. "Remember what happened to Timmy? He skipped out once and Mr. Bahril found out where he lived and paid him a visit! In the dead of night!"

Jim brushed the young man away. "What's couch gonna do, expel me?"

"Yes!" For the second time, Isaac ripped the notice off, damaging the poor parchment further, and pointed to a bit of small print in the corner of the page.

Attendance is compulsory! Anyone found breaking this rule will be subject to expulsure!

"Is that even a word?" Jim asked. "Never mind. Just cover for me, dude. Tell coach I'm sick or something."

"B-But Jim! The games..."

"I'm not gonna forget how to play! It's just one day. _One! _When else am I gonna get the chance to get some dragon-snatch?"

Isaac was about to retaliate, but all that came out was a long exhale. Jim thought the mention of genitals would bring his friend around.

"_*sigh*... _Alright, alright fine. I'll do it for the dragon-pussy. God only knows you need some, Jim. Just don't make this a regular thing, mkay? You know how honest a person I am."

"Sure. Thanks, dude."

Once in a blue moon did these two share a moment that wasn't all insults and roasts, but being a part of the same team, they did share an underlying respect that they'd never openly admit to each other.

Isaac headed off while Jim lingered around, scrutinizing the inconveniency of Mr. Bahril's notice. _One _absence on an otherwise unblemished record. Surely coach would cut him some slack? Surely his father, who he feared the wrath more of than Bahril's, would understand if he found out. Emphasis on the _if _part.

_Haven't wagged since high school, _he thought, remembering once during his final year that he promised himself he'd aim for the big one-hundred percent attendance after graduating. If he did this, he'd be breaking that self-made goal, and he didn't have many of those left.

"Can't get a payoff without a sacrifice," he said. "... Damn it. Let's do it."

"Who are you talking to?"

"Ah-!" Jim jumped half a meter into the air when a voice behind him announced itself. He readied an arm in preparation of a karate chop, and only lowered his guard a tad when he recognised the speaker.

"Kendra? Oh, no one, just myself."

"A double meaning, that." The Typhlosion sneered at him, or maybe that was just her normal expression. She did have a lot of sharp, pointy teeth below that stubby snout of hers.

"Huh, guess it is." He waited awkwardly for her to go on, but found that he had to do the talking instead. "So what's up?"

"On my way to C block."

"Oh cool, me too!" Kendra wasn't as ecstatic at the news as he was. "You wanna walk there together or are you gonna burn my hair off?"

Her left eye experienced a small twitch. "I shall endeavor to restrain myself." She unfolded her arms. "I'd be expelled otherwise."

"Well, good." He turned and, when she fell in beside him, began to walk. "Good. So! Uh, yeah. What do you want?"

She peered at him with the world's most venomous side-eye. "What makes you think I want something from you?"

"Last I checked, you have this seething, unmerited hate for me and every other male out there." He waved a palm out in front of them for emphasis. "It was subtle, but I caught on the other day. So unless you're leading up to it, there has to be another reason we're talking."

"It's not unmerited," she said. "But that's beside the point. You are correct, I'd rather put my hand in peanut-butter and dangle it over piranha-infested waters then converse with you, but I must talk about your future with our theatre club."

"Alright lady, what's got your britches in a bunch? I'm all ears, not literally obviously."

Wisps of smoke left Kendra's snout as she released a long sigh. "Oh how I hate the human slang. _Look, _Jim, I believe you know my stance on your sudden, frankly parasitic involvement with my club."

"'Your' club? Didn't you just say-"

"I know you don't have even the slightest care about poetics and the culture behind drama. The only reason you've been showing up is because you hope it will help you find your way into Cassidy's pants."

Jim raised a finger to object. Then lowered it. It seemed unwise to lie when Kendra was being so direct with him.

"It's hormonal, disgusting, and entirely male." Kendra jabbed a talon at his chest. "If I had my way I'd hire security to keep you out, but alas society forbids it, of course."

Jim looked away, considered a few things. He coughed into a hand and returned her gaze. "Look, I get the picture. You want me out, fine. But until Cassidy spits in my face, I'm not giving that up. If you want me to keep a wide birth, then fine, I'll-"

"That won't be necessary," she said. "Despite my efforts to the contrary, the impact you made on my club members has left a distinct impression, and I was outvoted when I appealed to revoke your association with the club."

"... Huh?"

"That means..." Kendra gulped. "Jesus Mary I can't believe I'm saying this. Jim... I'm asking you to... to..." The young Pokémon looked like she was about to puke. "-to come back, and offer your critique to the rest of the performers."

"What?" He blinked. "Next meetup?"

"All the meetups. _Indefinitely." _She choked the last word out.

"So... that mean I'm a member now?" Kendra could only nod at him, her mouth busy chewing down on a nail. "Alright, cool. Is there some sort of badge I get, or an initiation?"

"Yes, there is a ritual all new members must go through. Tsss!"

"Ow!" Kendra had reached back, dipped a finger into her fire-mane, and poked Jim on the shoulder. Her element pinched for a second, the fabric catching alight only briefly before she put it out.

"There, now you're one of us."

"Gee, thanks lady." He thumbed the little burnt fabric by his collar. "Even in this rare show of niceness you're still a complete bitch."

"Don't get used to it." She glared at a pair of passing students who'd overheard the conversation.

"I won't," He followed her round a corner and between blocks D and E. "Not trying to sound ungrateful or anything - truly humbling that you made me a member - but I don't think having just me as your audience is gonna cut it."

"You saw the state we're in," Kendra said. "we hang out after everyone's gone home in the campus' decrepit rear-end. You tell me where I can find an audience."

"I could round up some of the guys from my team, they might give it a try."

"As tempting as the offer is of having more men judging us, one jockey is enough. Besides, there's no appreciation for the arts anymore, the way we're forced to perform out of sight and mind of the public. Sometimes..." She sighed. "Sometimes it feels like I'm only delaying an inevitable end."

"Well let's see if maybe a professor will help out. Hey look, there's the principal over there, let's ask him! HEY! Principal Clark sir!"

"No!" Kendra hissed, reaching a hand over to cover Jim's mouth. His eyes bugged when her claw clamped down. "The last thing I want is to get staff involved!"

"Why?" he asked, knocking her hand away. "You guys need help, and who better-"

"Theatre club is very, very unofficial. The hall's been off-limits to students since-"

"You called for me?" a new voice interrupted. Man and Pokémon turned and looked at a tall, well-built man dressed in a navy-blue suit and matching tie. Principal Clark adjusted a pair of spectacles resting on his nose. "Ah, Mister Beam, Miss Ayers, off to class are we?"

"Yes sir!" Jim said, putting on a rather friendly facade. "Mathematics might have a poor rep, but you know what they say - the tough classes are the most important!"

"I was no stranger to struggles when I was your age, believe you me." The principal tugged on one of his sleeves. "But indeed, now is no better time to develop one's intellectual side."

"True, true." Jim cleared his throat. "That's why I like to make some time for my creative side. As my friend Kendra here says, there'd be no colour in the world without creators."

"Quite so, Miss Ayers," Clarke regarded the fire-type, who seemed to have completely forgotten how to be rude now that staff was present. Jim wondered about that. "I wasn't aware you were so fond of the expression of imagination. Are you enrolled in any art subjects?"

Kendra made a series of sounds, one of which eventually ended up sounding like a 'yes'. When asked which ones, Jim came to her rescue and stepped in. "Actually she's head-mistress of our theatre club, sir. Snazzy stuff."

The principal frowned. "I... don't seem to recall having a theatre club on campus."

"She gets that a lot - it's a relatively new club, right Kendra?" He turned and gave her a look that said_ I can't do all this on my own._

"R-Right." She straightened up and tried to maintain her sense of pride. "Professor Felix expressed some interest, said she'd like us to have our own little space to rehearse."

"Ah yes? Where exactly?"

"The hall, the old one, behind F block."

"I recall having that building sealed off, marked as off-limits. I thought all Professors were aware of that."

Kendra and Jim shared a worried look, neither thinking up anything more to add, waiting with bated breath at what would come next.

"But..." The principal shrugged. "I admit I've been out of touch with Miss Felix for some time, I can get a bit mismanaged with my mail." He laughed.

Jim joined in the laughter, like a student in need of a good grade, and willing to do anything to get it. Kendra added her own forced hysterics after Jim nudged her with an elbow.

"Anywho sir," Jim said. "Called you over because Kendra was just wondering if you couldn't help the club out. They're a little under the radar at the moment in that dirty hall right now."

"Hmm..." Clarke clasped his hands together like a businessman contemplating a tempting deal. "There have been plans for some time to refurbish that building, or to have it demolished. Miss Ayers, how many members does your club consist of?"

"Eleven, sir." The Typhlosion glanced at Jim. "Twelve, actually."

"A small group, but nonetheless a group. Have you formed any plays or acts?"

"We've practiced a few individual rehearsals."

"I'd very much like to see one big performance, with everyone playing a part. Do you think you could whip up something like that, Miss Ayers? It's been some time since I've seen an opera."

"I... don't know about an _opera, _sir, but... I think we could come up with something." She paused. "Do you have a theme in mind?"

"Oh, surprise me with whatever. My timetable's a tad full at the moment, but what about I come down next Wednesday and see what you've all thought up?"

"S-Sir? I... I..." Kendra's face was a mix of surprise, horror, and confusion all mixing together to great one truly flabbergasted individual. Jim took it upon himself to answer.

"We'll be ready by then, sir!" He gave a thumbs-up.

"Splendid! I shall see you two then. Now off to class, both of you, I've held you up long enough."

Kendra felt it only safe to start talking once the principal had rounded a corner, and the sound of his boots had faded away. "I can't believe what just happened." She rubbed at her wrists. "I thought he'd dissolve the club for sure when he found out we were hiding out in the hall."

"That's how you lie to a teacher. Start off on his good side, then just segway your way in."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience," she noted.

"Yep," he admitted. "Don't forget what he said about demolishing the building. You better impress him next week, or else, uh..."

He mimicked an explosion with his hands, adding a little sound effect with it. Kendra scratched at her mane, eyes dilating. "You're right. Jesus Mary wept, I take back what I said earlier - get as many of your friends down to rehearsals as you can, we'll need all the opinions we can get."

"Big changes are coming, Kendra," Jim said. "Big ones."

"Makes me wonder why you're doing it in the first place," she replied. "You doing all this for Cassidy?"

"A little," he said. "But mostly it's for spite. You said earlier I didn't care about the club. Well, as its newest member, I'm about to prove your fiery-ass wrong."

He'd said this like it was some sort of grand build-up to an ultimate show of proving a point, and yet Kendra didn't feel even slightly insulted. If this was his way of one-upping her, she wasn't about to resist him.

"I don't know whether to be thankful or not, but the principal's involved now, so..." She shrugged. "Big changes indeed."