The Dragon’s Game(s)

Chapter 1

A Name

1

The players hustled up into a clump of bodies after the screeching whistle signalled a foul play. Sweaty palms met mud-riddled jerseys as the teams bent over for a reset. From between the many pairs of stained sports boots, the ball came flying out of the scrum into the hands of the Mythics’ fullback. The ball fell to his dirty boot and soared into the sky, its spheroid silhouette blocking out a piece of the sun as it arched up, hit its peak, then descended to left field, where the wingman waited with his arms outstretched like he was the town preacher, the ball his audience as he prayed for good health and fortune. Which he was, secretly.

The cold air nipped at the skin, but the young (wing)man’s lungs were on fire, his own breath visible as puffs of steam from his mouth. The ball came down to his waiting hands, and the moment he brushed its bumpy surface, he proceeded to fumble it like it were a hot potato covered in mayonnaise. As he slipped through the other team’s defence, there was one horrible second where he thought it was going to fall right through his fingers and he’d be at the fault of yet another foul, but he just about managed to scoop his left hand underneath the ball and throw it back up into his waiting right.

But then his right hand decided that no, it wasn’t going to get itself a grip, and there was another dreadful moment where he thought it would drop to the grass. The crowd up in the stands, a good number of spectators for a simple test game, the wingman thought, ooooh’d and ahhhh’d like they were watching a circus show reaching its climactic event.

The comparison was appropriate, because Jim felt like a clown as he rushed down the field adjacent to the sideline, juggling the football from left hand to right as he sprinted, knees rising higher than his hips in his classic run his friends liked to rib him over. But no one made fun of Jim’s speed, no way, that’s why he was chosen as left wingman. And a wingman in his spare time, too, but that’s a story for another time.

The wind was with him as he dashed down-field towards the try line. Jim checked his right for the other team’s defenders, and found that all twenty-five other players in the game were running after him, hair bobbing, faces snarling, arms pumping like sweaty pistons. Upon seeing all those jersey’s chasing after Jim and the sacred ball he had in his hands – of which he was still trying to get a good hold on – his mouth dipped into a frightened ‘o’ shape, and he double-timed for his life.

But Jim had caught (or was in the process of catching) one of the most perfect kicks from Mason, and had slipped through their defence with ease – nothing could stop the massive head start he had from securing the try, even if the rumble of stampeding players behind him was terrifying. It was a tradition dating back thousands of years that one showed off at their highs, and Jim wasn’t one to disappoint his ancestors. After a thirty-meter run, at last his fingers came smoothly down on the ball, the little bumps in the leather fitting snug against his fingerprints. He put the ball under an arm, and used his free hand to wave to the crowd. The fans shouted their approval at him as he passed them by.

From below those stands of uniformed colleagues, he discerned a unique face, surrounded by a bright eye-catching pink that drew his gaze. It wasn’t exactly a ‘face’ as one might know one, as there was some interesting characteristics one could not ignore about the body it was attached to.

For example, the three-tipped pads that were its feet ended in white triangular talons instead of toes. The thick legs were covered in a layer of scales the colour of the deep ocean, and they danced in synchronicity with the six other cheerleaders on this particular individual’s left. These reptilian legs were supported by a pair of meaty thighs that were teasingly hidden behind a fluffy, pink skirt ending just shy above the knees. A bright red stomach was hidden behind a pink tank top, with the word MYTHIC printed across the front, the letters stretching across a curvy breast.

Her thin arms raised up a pair of pom-poms in each hand, the two bat-wings extending from her forearms flapping like small flags in the breeze. She began to roll her hips to the chant she and the other females bellowed, doing one full, slow spin as the tassels of her pom-poms danced about. This gave Jim a view of her thick tail, poking out of a slot in her skirt and swishing around in a gentle jig.

M-Y-T-H-I-C

You’re getting your asses kicked, by our team!

Gooo Mythics!

The Garchomp stood out well against the rest of the human troupe, the female beast lean and proud and not one bit conscious that she was the only Pokémon cheerleader. Jim’s ‘o’ of previous terror now fell into a wide oval as his jaw dropped. He slowed down to a measly jog to draw out his gawking without even realising.

He actually felt his heart skip a beat when their eyes met across the sidelines, her golden irises just a shade darker than the yellow, five-pointed star printed on her snout. Jim didn’t even notice his coach standing just off to one side of his vision, fist shaking in Jim’s direction, eyes bugging out by how many obscenities he was screaming. Jim remembered getting flustered around girls back in high school. This one time he was passing this cute girl and he dropped his textbooks right on top of her foot and-

This recollection was interrupted by the world’s biggest body collision, reminiscent of a car crash he’d seen last year. Jim went down like a WWE wrestler, doing a few flips in mid-air before smashing face first to the dirt. Some chunky boy from the other team grounded him with all ninety kilograms of his flesh, and Jim hadn’t even seen him coming. The air came out of Jim’s lungs in a wheeze, and his dreams of scoring a try were buried under fifteen bodies, players from both sides deciding to join in on the tackle. He thought he heard his team’s cheerleader’s enthusiasm go from quiet to flummoxed silence, before he ate the mud and all he heard was this painful buzzing noise in his ears.

Somewhere far away a whistle was blown from a pensive referee. Airhorns blared as full time was reached. Jim felt more than one spike from a shoe dig into his calves and back from a frustrated player, some of which was not on accident, but he didn’t care, he only had thoughts for that Garchomp. He’d seen a few dragon-types about the campus, but he’d never actually seen a Garchomp in person until this afternoon.

Soon the forest of legs subsided enough to allow Jim to get up off the bottom of the body-pile, the front of his jersey dripping with mud and grass. Around him the players huffed and puffed, some keeled over, some standing tall, some trying to do both at the same time in order to appear tireless. Someone from the other team ripped the ball from Jim’s hands, as if possessing the ball would somehow make up for the fact that the Mythics had won, but he was too busy looking out to the sidelines to care.

The cheerleaders apparently had had enough and were hustling off with the departing crowds away from the field. It was easy to pick out the seven cheerleaders due to their stark, pink outfits, and the Garchomp even more so, her big tail swishing from side to side to counteract her heavier weight. Call it cliché, but Jim hoped on hope she would turn around and they’d meet eyes across the field of people, mud, grass, sweat and all those romantic things, and they’d give each other distant, longing looks. It might have happened too, at least the meeting-eyes part, if his coach didn’t fill up his vision when the man stepped in front of him.

“Well done there, Jimmy! When it comes to eating dirt, you sure showed them! Now if you would please tell me, what in the HELL were you doing!? The line was OPEN, you had a straight, SHOT, and you stood there like a toilet brush!”

Jim was a head taller than his fuming coach, younger, with less spare tire in the buttocks, but his coach had the anger of a cuckholded rhino. Most short, older people had a gift for expressing more emotion than the average Joe, and Mr. Bahril was no exception, hands waving about crazily whenever he spoke, his tone always thick with annoyance even at the best of times.

“Sir,” Jim began, as if he’d just seen Mr. Bahril for the first time since kick-off. “the, ah… the sun? It got in my eyes…?”

Whatever insult Mr. Bahril was starting to say tumbled into another language as he looked up at Jim. “Th-The SUN? Got in your EYES?”

“Yes?”

“And once the sun got in your eyes, that made you slow DOWN?”

“Yes!”

“AND, this sudden explosion of photosensitivity, caused you to look like you’d just seen a boob for the first time?”

“… Yes?”

Mr. Bahril had the expression of a teacher who’d just been corrected in the middle of class. His mouth dropped open but he seemed incapable of forming words.

“Coach’s right,” one of his teammates said, laying one hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Jimmy here’s got the old ‘look but don’t touch’ rule when it comes to tits. Never touched, never will.”

“Actually I have,” Jim said. “Your mom can back me up on that, Isaac.”

Isaac blinked, and Jim didn’t have to push his arm off. It went on its own.

After the teams shook hands for a show of good sportsmanship – the losers careful to keep their bitterness in check – the rest of the Mythics gathered up around the coach. Mr. Bahril coughed into his hand and regained his composure.

“Well, at least we were up on points, so congrats on winning a test match you rectal tufts. There were more than a couple of shit plays from a lot of you. Matty, you need to lose that flab, you jiggled around like a beanbag all game, and your lack of speed is costing us. Kyle, my grandma could kick better than you, and she already kicked the bucket ten years ago. And Jim.” Mr. Bahril’s demeaning finger came down on the wingman. “Jimmy, Jimmy, Jim, if you pull that shit again during the qualifiers I will actually find a way to expel your ass from this campus.”

The team laughed, some of them clapping Jim on the back. He took it all with a grin, as he usually did when getting ribbed.

“Oh sure, laugh it up, all of you, but I’m dead serious. How long have we been training for?”

“All year,” the Mythic’s answered in bored unison.

“That’s right. All year. And if any of you screw it up now that’s another year we have to wait, and when I say we, I mean ‘I’, because most of you won’t be here, count on that. So! Matty, lose that caboose. Kyle, learn to kick a ball. Jim, bloody focus on the game, or don’t bother coming back. ‘Sun in my eyes’… Alright, get out of here you lot, you’re stinking up my field.”

Jim went with the team, but glanced over his shoulder towards the other side of the field, where the pink group of tassels and pom-poms was going. But any ounce of pink was gone, the group absorbed into the distant mass of people. He made sure to not stare just in case Mr. Bahril was watching him.

“Anyone know who we’re playing first?” Matty was asking, as they gathered up in the locker room after cleaning down. Steam misted up the tiled room as the showers washed grime from bodies and grit pooled near the drains, the underlying stench of male sweat rank in the tight space.

“Pop says it’s the Nova’s,” Nate replied. He was the other wingman and Mr. Bahril’s son. The boys thought he’d be a giant crutch on the field who only got in because his dad gave him the spot, but he’d drilled through the team’s combined attempts to ‘encourage’ him to quit, and eventually he’d proved himself to be quite the asset. “We’ll be up against them in the first round.”

“Nova’s?” Matty asked. “from upstate? They’re not the ones who’ve got that Charizard halfback do they?”

“Nah they can’t do that,” Isaac said, just coming out of the shower with a towel wrapped over his waist. “The big cheeses won’t let a Charizard run your fat ass down out there, Matty. Ain’t fair.”

“Unless we get one too,” the fullback, Gavin, said. He was the team captain. “I know a Mewtwo that could just blink the ball up the field for us.”

“Sure, he can replace Jim as left wing,” Isaac said. He opened up his locker and took his uniform out. “the fuck happened out there, butter-fingers? What was all this?” He started juggling imaginary balls, making monkey noises as he did. Those noises turned to coughs when Jim threw his dirty towel at his face. “Gah! Germs!”

“I got distracted, okay?” Jim said when the din of laughter died down.

“By the sun?” Matty asked. “That’s bullshit. You were looking at something else. Someone.”

“Well… yeah…” Jim swallowed, an audible click in his throat. “There was a… a girl.”

As is the usual response when one admits attraction to the fairer gender, and boy’s locker room went wild with cat-calls and whistles and every other stupid noise guys like to make. Isaac, after discarding the wet towel off his face, leaned against the locker beside Jim and asked him who she was.

“I don’t know. She’s one of the cheerleaders.”

“Yeah I expected that from how shallow your pool is, Jim, but which one?” Isaac asked.

“You didn’t notice that dragoness on the end?”

The jeering reached a whole other octane after this admission. His friend slash enemy threw up his hands in surprise. “Woah woah hey now! Jimmy likes the derg? Oh I don’t believe this.”

“Me either,” Matty said. “what’s wrong with Hannah, the lead girl? She’s top of the line, plus she’s got much bigger, uhm…” He cupped his hands over his chest, nodding encouragingly.

“It’s not all about bra-size, Matt,” Nate said. “And give her a break, she’s new, and she got Jim’s attention, so that’s got to count for something.”

“Old Jimmy’s been looking for pussy since Lara dumped his ass,” Isaac said. “don’t be naïve, fatty-Matty’s right.”

“Firstly, fuck you,” Jim said, pointing at Isaac, then to Nate. “Secondly, Nate? How do you know she’s new?”

“What do you mean? We’ve never even seen her around before, for one thing. Plus my pop’s friend had her do tryouts the other week. He saw over her trials personally. Filled out the forms a couple days ago I think.”

Jim practically teleported over to Nate’s side, seizing him by the front of his shirt before he could even blink. “You’re saying your dad knows her?”

“Uh, yes?” Nate said, looking as if Jim had him admitting his crimes before a rigged courtroom. “He’s our team coach? Remember?”

“Do you know her name? Her classes? Date of birth? Anything?”

“I don’t know, dude! Let me go, you’re freaking me out!”

“O-Oh, right. Sorry.” Jim released him and brushed his friend’s shirt of any crinkles he’d made.

“I could try finding out some things, if you want dude.” Nate shrugged.

“Nah, man,” Isaac said. “that’s creepy. Just find out where she lives then ‘pretend’ to bump into her when she’s walking home. I tried that once, good results.”

“Volunteer to be a bench-warmer,” Matty tried. “they sit right next to the girls during half-time. That’s a good half hour alone right there!”

“How about,” Gavin said. “You go up and say hello?”

The team looked at Gavin as if he’d just suggested he defecate in the town fountain. “‘Say hello’?” Jim parroted. “What kind of opening is that? You want me to fail before I even start?”

Gavin shrugged, as if he’d conveyed all the wisdom he could share. As Jim shouldered his backpack he asked Nate: “You seriously don’t know anything? Not even the first letter of her name?”

“Sorry dude. I could try asking pop, but-“

“Nah, don’t bother,” Jim said. Some of the other guys started offering their own advice, all of which about as helpful as an Ikea instruction manual. He shushed them with a few hand gestures. “I don’t remember asking for any suggestions, guys. Besides, I’ve already got a plan.”

Regardless, the rest of the team fired one idea after another at Jim as he retreated from the locker room. Eat that ass, was yelled just before he shut the door behind him. Jim adjusted a strap on his bag and made his way across the stands. Dismissing his team’s help wasn’t just an excuse to call them idiots – if he could hook up with Lara he could hook up with anyone, and besides, he’d heard Pokémon were easier going than human women.

Jim caught up and blended in with the crowd heading back to the campus proper. He saw a few draconic faces as he walked, but the Garchomp was nowhere to be found. Maybe that was because she was creeped out by him staring at her and was avoiding him. It wasn’t his fault she was easy on the eyes, was it?

Hope something like that doesn’t happen again during finals.

Jim wouldn’t admit this sounded arrogant, because it was arrogant – the Mythic’s were one of the best teams on the coast. Last season they’d gotten all the way to the semi-finals but lost, six to seven, golden point style against the Spartans. Their universities had been rivals since before Jim was born, attracting many middle-aged mothers to the sidelines to scream their hearts out about how their boys were clearly superior to the others.

Even though the Spartan’s had taken the cup, the Mythic’s nine times out of ten got to the grand finals, so assuming it would happen this season wasn’t much of a stretch. If it did come down to another golden point situation, and he missed an opportunity to swipe victory because of the Garchomp again? Coach would literally kill him. Dad too. Hell, the whole team would want to get a piece of him if he screwed it up when he needed to, as coach said, focus.

Much like when defending the try-line, he’d tackle the problem head-on, and make it so there wouldn’t be a need to ogle, if one knew what he was talking about.

It was strange because Jim had never looked at Pokémon like that before. There were human/Pokémon couples, sure, but he’d never thought much about joining those ranks until today. Maybe it was because he was a sportsman and she a cheerleader. Hollywood always pushes those kinds of pairs, don’t they? Maybe it was the fact she was so… unique, given that Garchomp’s were a rare sight, at least from his perspective.

Or maybe his interest only lay in the fact of his own self-deprecation which had bothered him these past few months. A sign only family and close friends could see, and Jim wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was lacking in both those departments as of late.

Looping around D-block, Jim frowned after failing to see this nameless dragon that had caught his eye. The only thing he did see worth noting was between blocks G and H – two big guys surrounding one small guy just outside an empty classroom. The small guy, Edwardo – yes that’s his name – was about as strong as a malnourished sloth, and it showed. His limbs were more like sticks, and it seemed he’d never known what a protein shake was. The big guys around him were at least two, maybe three years older. They were laughing at something Jim hadn’t heard, one of them giving Edwardo a not so gentle shove. If prison was a comparable analogy to schools or campus’s – and many people agreed so – then Edwardo was the new inmate paying protection money to the big-timers while the guards – the teachers and professors – weren’t around to see. Two thirty PM, on the dot, every day, one would always find them here.

And nobody did nor say anything about it, because it was just one of those things you see often enough you take it for granted as being the norm. Edwardo could do something to stop it but just chose not to, at least in Jim’s opinion, and if that was his choice, to let it happen? So be it.

Jim passed the stick-up without even turning his head, same as everyone else.

But in otherwise good fortune, training ended half an hour before the official end of the day, so Jim and the team, as well as anyone with free time to watch, got an excuse to relax early without the professors getting suspicious. Even though technically it was free time, the professors hated students slacking about so openly. “Makes us all look bad,” one of the teachers said to him once. Usually Jim spent the extra spare time with his teammates at a bar or in the park across the street, but he opted to go straight to the bus stop with everyone else.

The main body of students gathered around the bus shelter, chatting and laughing. Jim sat off to one side, tapping his phone with one hand while his other lay splayed on the grass behind him. He only looked up a while later when someone sat right beside him, and his heart jumped, expecting it to be the Garchomp from before, and that she’d decided to approach him. It wasn’t completely out of the question, was it?

But it couldn’t ever be so easy. Arrogance was just as blinding as the sun, and Jim had been called vain more than once before. Isaac gave him this stupid little grin like he always did, sitting just a little too close than was necessary. “Sup Jimmy?”

“Sup.” He looked back at his phone.

“Well don’t get so excited to see me! After all, I’m the only reason you even get the opportunity to score when we’re playing. No big deal or anything.”

“That’s the centre’s job,” Jim said, not looking up. “and you’re right centre. I am on the LEFT. It’s called geometry. Or trigonometry. Or whatever it is.”

“What about that mad kick I did the other day? Straight over everyone’s head to you, no fuss no sweat. You know how I do crazy shit like that?”

Because you’re like a machine, Jim thought.

“Because I’m like a machine! Honed in, in the now, observant! Just like you weren’t today with that dragon!”

“Shh!” Jim hissed. “Everyone can hear you! Shut your hole.”

Isaac ran a hand through his long hair. “Credit goes to you anyway, Jimmy. At least you’re looking at chicks, not like that faggot Gavin.”

Jim scoffed. “At least Gavin’s getting action, unlike someone I know.”

Isaac rolled his eyes, shrugging off any attempt at being grilled. “Whatever dude. So listen, a bunch of us are getting together to go clubbing tonight. You in?”

“Eh. Not in the mood.”

“You said that last time, dude. By the way, did you talk to that Garchomp yet?”

“I haven’t seen her since training.”

Isaac’s eyes gleamed with ill-intent. “Well you, sir, are just about to. Turn around.”

Jim’s expression was of annoyed confusion as he turned his head, fully expecting Isaac to rant on and on about how he fell for it, and that he was totally into a dragon. But one of the few times Isaac wasn’t being a douchebag occurred when Jim’s eyes fell on the Garchomp’s body, standing maybe ten meters down the path, a little leather handbag over one scaly shoulder. She was completely alone, sighing as she tapped a foot on the grass.

Now, this would usually be the prime time one introduces himself. He walks up to her with swagger-filled strides, leans on a nearby railing, brimming with self-confidence yet holding an eased posture as if he cared not for how anyone saw him, winks and asks her how she’s doing.

Of course, this scenario was played out in Jim’s mind alone, and for all his prior confidence, as soon as the chance presented itself… he clammed up.

“Shit,” Jim said, the word coming out in a hushed exhale as he turned away and covered one side of his face with a hand in some vain attempt at concealment. “Is she looking?” he hissed at Isaac.

His fellow teammate looked at him the same way one looks at an idiot. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Jim peeked around the side of his palm, and noticed the Garchomp had not reacted. She watched the cars roll past from right to left, fiddling every now and then with her bag or one of her horns. Way down the road came the tell-tale bright and wide shape of an incoming bus. Her tail seemed to wag when she laid her eyes on it.

Jim squinted, then his features went slack as he noticed what exactly he was doing. God, what was he, back in fifth grade? Where one could be infected with cooties if eye-contact was made, and you were ridiculed for even daring to think about girls, and rumours were spread about you and you had to take a few days off school to collect yourself before shame destroyed you from the inside?

Damn… was that me? Jim thought. Am I still a…? No, no that’s not true. I’ve just never spoke to a dragon before. That’s it. Isaacs’s just putting me on the spot. I would have seen her if he hadn’t shown up.

And yet, did he not see a sliver of a purple tailfin on his way up here? And just before he sat down, didn’t two tubular horns stick out above the crowd of human heads, and he’d willingly looked away and flipped open his phone to distract himself from said Pokémon?

“Now’s your chance Jimmy,” Isaac said. “before the bus gets here and she’s gone forever.”

“She’s not going to be gone forever,” Jim said.

“How do you know that?”

Jim opened his mouth to speak, when a momentary pause caused him to fall flat, and the more Isaac’s words sank in, the more they started to gain sense. Isaac, the stoner, idiotic, block-headed brat who’d taken prevocational English classes, had actually had a coherent thought that Jim was unable to counter.

“W-Well, she…”

The light honk of a horn drew Jim’s eyes just up the hill, and he saw the familiar metallic blue of his father’s range rover pull up to the curb.

Jim praised the ex machina appearance of an excuse to get out of there. “Oh hey there’s my ride, I’m off. Later.”

Isaac frowned up at Jim as the young man dashed for the car, taking cover behind the other students and weaving between them when possible, so his sightline of the Garchomp was broken as often as it could be.

The older man in the driver’s seat, with grey beginning to advance on the perimeter of his beard and hairline, watched his son throw himself into the car like a soldier diving into a trench for cover, Jim’s bag arching into the backseat as it always did when he had spare time to pick him up.

“Afternoon,” father said. Jim’s feet faced the ceiling of the car for a moment before he righted himself in the seat. The indicator flicked on after his seatbelt clicked in. “How’s it going?”

“Same old, same old,” Jim said, secretly breathing a sigh of relief when his father pulled out onto the road. Jim watched the Garchomp until she was a distant, red and blue shape in the side-view mirror.

“One day you’ll say something different when I ask you how school’s going,” father said. He’d said the exact same thing for several years now, ever since Jim could remember, though the young man wasn’t sure if the irony was lost or not.

“Coach threatened to kick me off the team,” Jim offered.

“That’s not different. Bahril always threatens his pupils, you should know that.” He gave Jim a long side-eye. “Was he justified?”

“No! Well… yes. But no. It was just a stupid thing.”

“Yes I’m sure it’s stupid, so just tell me.” The eyebrow on this side went up. “Was it a girl?”

“No.”

“A guy?”

“No!” Jim decided further denial was pointless. Parents always have a way of knowing when something’s up. “Fine, yes, it was a girl. New cheerleader distracted me and I dropped the ball, or I would’ve if I hadn’t slowed down and got smashed.”

“Must have been quite the dame.” Father rested one hand on the wheel and leaned his elbow on the window. He glanced from the road to his son. “Who is she?”

“Don’t know,” Jim said, looking at his phone to try and telepathically ask his dad to drop the subject. “never seen her around before. She’s a… a ah… Pokémon. Garchomp.”

“A dragon dame?” Father bobbed his eyebrows and smirked in a mildly impressed fashion. “Noice.”

Jim felt heat in his face and shrunk himself deeper into the leather seat. “Could we talk about this some other time? Like NEVER, maybe?”

This was usually the part where the dad teases the son, for all parents hold a measure of power they like to flaunt, as his dad loved to demonstrate. But Jim’s father simply gave this self-satisfied grin and looked back at the road, slowing down for a red light.

“Take my advice,” father said just when Jim was starting to hope he’d stay silent. “new girl comes into town you must pounce.” Father gestured at something in front of him with his free hand, as if he was grabbing the metaphorical chance. “No messing about, uh-uh, opportunities don’t linger, and neither should you.”

“Feels like everyone today’s got their own bit of advice,” Jim grumbled. “Going to get them all mixed up. Say something stupid.”

“Better than not saying anything at all to her, right? I’m assuming you avoided all contact with her by the way you barged into the car just then.”

“Yeah alright, dad,” Jim said. “I get it.” His father didn’t break the silence. Jim felt it was his job to change the subject, so he asked, “So how was your day?”

Father coughed into his hand. “Called buyers, called sellers, got hung up on more than once, filed a stack of paperwork bigger than the next Game of Thrones book, all that jazz.”

“So same as yesterday then?” Jim asked. “I always thought life got less boring around your age.”

“Only to the lucky ones.” His father looked at him. “And most of us aren’t.”

“Not the answer I was hoping for.”

“But one you needed to hear.” Father raised an authoritative finger.

Home was a thirty-minute drive from campus grounds, just on the outskirts of the neighbouring ghetto. Jim’s father always scolded him every time he called it that out loud, but they both knew it was true. The houses were run down, there were rips in the screen doors, and one knew the smell of cooking dope when they smelt it, and that stench was rank in the suburbs. Jim was lucky they lived a couple blocks away, rich enough to get away from the ever-rising poverty line.

Father sold houses for a living and the one they lived in was big enough for four, though it had just been the two of them for the last few years. There was enough money to spare to get Jim an in for a sports degree in hopes of making it to the big leagues, but kicking a football all day wasn’t going to cut it for his father. “I didn’t raise you to be a big dumb fullback. If I did I would have named you Cronk.”

So Jim had a few more compulsory subjects on top of his game sessions, societal studies and mathematics just to name a few. He’d heard they really weren’t that bad, but it wasn’t too long before he was completely swamped with overdue essays and reports. He was usually a proud individual, but not proud enough to deny he was a total airhead, and the thought of dropping out had passed his mind by more than once.

But thanks to the forces that control the country’s education, that wasn’t an option. His father had made that clear with the many subtle implications he made whenever they conversed over dinner. Jim spent the hours before and after dark with his face desperately buried in a mountain of textbooks, but felt fatigued embarrassingly too quickly. Maybe I should go clubbing with Isaac and the boys.

Then he imagined them all teasing him over that Garchomp, and reconsidered. This is my friend Jim; he’s got a thing for dragons. He was just distracting himself from his work anyway.

After hours of useless studying he flopped onto his bed and stared holes into the ceiling. Laying there in the dark, Jim began to feel lonely, and he hated the feeling more than sweet-potato chips. Couple the fact that tomorrow would be a day of lectures and no training, and he didn’t feel like getting up or doing anything.

So he sat there feeling sorry for himself while his dad snored loudly down the hall. He thought about the Garchomp for a while but any idea he had of approaching her seemed stupid. Today he could have done something, but instead he had run off. Why had he done that? Because…

Because… it wasn’t the right time, of course! What, was he going to keep his dad waiting in the car as he chatted with her? Would he have gone as far as getting on the bus just to spend more time with her? The situation wasn’t right. Yeah, that was it.

… Oh, who was he kidding? He’d chickened out. And he’d chicken out again next time and he would be alone forever. As always.

Technically not true. Lara counted. She was a bitch of the highest order who’d worded the prior mentioned loneliness, but she still counted.

The thought of her made him frown, and soon he settled into a rough night’s sleep.

2

He didn’t see the Garchomp the next day since there was no practice. Jim had his cheek buried into a hand as he paid half a mind to the day’s lectures, getting plenty of notes down but not quite understanding most of them.

He spent a bit of time at lunch searching for the Garchomp, but she wasn’t anywhere to be found, none of the cheerleaders were. Perhaps Isaac had been right, and that he’d missed his opportunity – maybe she’d moved away or decided cheerleading wasn’t for her (he’d disagree with that with all his heart, of course).

As is the strange nature of the human mind, once an idea gets into one’s head, a simple, perhaps implausible scenario develops into full-blown paranoia and/or dementia. It wasn’t impossible that she’d been creeped out by his staring at her yesterday. Good move, dude, new girls are totally into being stared at. Who could blame her for avoiding him?

Call him contradicted, but his inner balance of confidence and depression was subject to sudden shifts in power when it came to the mental madhouse that was life when graduating from school life to adult life. On top of all his educational worries, the Garchomp apparently held priority. To him her absence felt like he’d just missed something very important, and that he’d irreversibly failed.

But then tomorrow came, and he saw her. His worries were stupid, he realised with a thin grin. Of course she hadn’t just up and left because of two seconds of eye-contact, though it did certainly feel like she had.

No one could mistake the identity of the dragon dressed in pink and white. Her thorned kneecaps and elbows threatened to cut the fabric of her tank top and skirt with each one of her pom-pom waves and complex foot maneuvers. How she changed into that thing without going through a few sewing kits Jim did not know. Her and her troupe were bringing their voices together in a typical team shout- ‘Let’s go Mythics let’s go!’ -and Jim was watching her just as often as he was charging through the mock defence line.

Which was to say, all the time.

He was on the other side of the field most of the time they trained that afternoon, but there were a few moments he thought she was looking at him over the distance, and each time this happened he tried something new to try and mask his innocence of the fact he was being a complete creep. Like coughing into his hand, examining the clouds, or throwing himself into a big tackle-pile even though he didn’t need to, just to name a few examples.

And of course, each of these resulted in distraction from the practice drills, and it wasn’t long before Jim’s cover was blown, though not by the Garchomp.

“Are you on drugs Jimmy?” Mr. Bahril asked him on their five-minute active recovery, jogging laps around the edge of the field. Mr. Bahril was old but very much in shape, and kept pace with the team even as he shouted out instructions. The whistle around his neck bounced off his bulky chest with each stride.

“No sir,” Jim panted.

“You sneaking in a few whiffs before your daddy dropped you off today?”

“No sir.”

“Well where did your dose of incompetency come from if not from a sniff of methamphetamines?”

Jim didn’t answer. Speaking now would only make it worse.

“Our first game is two weeks away! You want to be around to see it?”

“Yes sir!”

“Then I suggest you stuff that crack in a safe place and get your shit in the game! You keep this up, your days on my team are numbered, Jimmy. Less days than there are fingers on your hands! Now get it together!“

Coach had said that right as their jog brought them directly in front of the cheerleaders, and Jim felt like dropping dead when he heard an unmistakable snicker from at least half of the females. He’d rather the humiliation come from one of his teammates – at least he knew how to take a roasting from them.

Mr. Bahril drove them to hell and back, as he always did when the season was approaching. Training soon came to a close, and the rancid odour of sweat was foul in the locker room. The general murmur of chat was broken by Isaac’s daily gripe. “So! Jimmy! Saw your scaly wife out there today. You gonna teach her how to catch balls or what?”

Jim closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. There was a little laughter from the rest of the team. “Maybe. I’m going to make a play even if it means forcing myself in.” He frowned. “That… sounded better in my head.”

During his short panic yesterday, what his father had said the day before had repeated itself through his thoughts. Opportunities don’t linger, and neither should you. And that scare yesterday when he didn’t see her put things into a perspective he couldn’t ignore. He’d have to time it just right so that he’d walk out of the locker room just as the cheerleaders had finished changing out of their uniforms. Take a page out of Isaac’s book and ‘accidently’ bump into her. Oh yes. The plan was flawless.

Say by some miracle that works, a voice told him. then what do you say to her?

It was a tad of an oversight to think of that just now, as he left his whooping and snickering team behind and strode out into the cool afternoon air. He followed the path up the side of the field, and spotted just beside the stands, one of the cheerleaders moving out of the girls change room.

Just say, ‘hey’. Like the song. And she’ll say ‘Hi, how are you?’ Then say you’re okay, you got that? O-kay. Then ask her how she is. It can’t fail.

Yes it can, he thought right back to this mentor-ish voice, stopping near the opening leading to the changerooms, and saw a familiar blue horn of a Garchomp coming out from behind the interior wall. Jim suddenly fell into an elbow-thrusting power walk, internally screaming that he should abort mission. Live to fight another day. Fall back and regroup. Anything but standing there outside the female changerooms like a total pervert.

Ten meters later he chanced a look back and his eyes went wide as moons when the Garchomp was practically right behind him, and this time there can be no doubt she could tell he was looking out for her in particular. Jim feigned ignorance anyway, casting his gaze up to the sky and rubbing his chin like a contemplating astronomer. No good. She seemed to be coming right for him, probably to ask why the fuck he was looking at her all afternoon and that, what, had he never seen a dragon before? He tried to flee into the crowds but his legs were off having lunch and wouldn’t listen to his commands, and he froze up like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming, draconic truck. People walked by him without paying any mind, and when he expected (hoped, a part of him corrected), the Garchomp to walk by as well, instead she stopped right in front of him!

Having not been this close to her before, he hadn’t realised she stood a few inches taller than him, a little more if one counted the two stubby horns above her ear-holes. She literally looked down on him with her big, golden eyes, both ringed by deep reptilian sockets that made her look like she was wearing ebony eyeliner.

His eyes drifted from the yellow star on her snout to her mouth, which moved, but he didn’t hear her speak. He was paying too much attention to her perfume. It reminded him of gently sizzling marshmallows, with an underlying spicy smell mixed into the scent.

“H-Hi, I’m okay,” he blurted out.

She didn’t exactly raise an eyebrow given her lack of eyebrows, but one side of her face did lift up in a similar gesture. “What?” she asked, and her voice was a lot less gruff than he’d imagined a dragon might sound like. Soft, with just the right amount of a feminine flintiness.

“Oh, I, ahem. I mean, ah…” He lowered a hand and pinched his leg with two fingers to try and knock some sense into himself. “I meant to say, how are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m okay!”

“I know.”

Her chops drew upwards into a draconic version of a grin, and then her hand came up to her lips. There was this strange little sound that slipped through her fingers, accompanied by the bucking of her shoulders. The cogs in Jim’s brain moved until he realised something.

She was giggling at him.

Normally being laughed at by a woman was a man’s worst fear, but she wasn’t moving off to go gossip to her friends, not preaching to the surrounding choir that he was in fact, a bumbling doofus. Even if he was wrong and she was about to do either of those things, he was too distracted by her laugh to care. It was just the right pitch to be innocently lilting, with just a hint of femininity to make anyone’s day brighten should one be near enough to hear it.

“So, ah, are you new here?” he asked her, slowly, taking care that he didn’t stutter this time. “I haven’t notice you around before.”

“My first week,” the Garchomp said. “and my second time rehearsing with the other girls.”

“Oh right? Well, ah, welcome to the Mythics! Meetings are at three o’clock every Tuesday.”

Oh, nice one dude. Was that supposed to be funny or something? He stood there wandering if the next thing he said wouldn’t be grounds for her immediate departure from his vicinity.

The dragoness’s grin was small but there. “I might not be able to make them. What are these meetings about?”

“Just, ah, finances, and stuff. Sometimes we do cultural debates, discuss the state of the political climate, things like that.”

“Sounds awfully droll. You can count me out.”

There was a small moment where neither of them said anything, but any ounce of self-consciousness Jim had was already on the bus home when the dragoness smiled again. His eyes fell down her smooth, crimson neck-scales, each one getting more red the lower they went, towards her white tank top, and the obvious prominence of her breasts (purely by accident of course). They were just the right size – not showing off, not lagging behind. If only that could be an apt description of his life.

He covered this short peek by angling his head down to wipe sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. A few of the other Mythics cheerleaders passed by, waving and saying farewell to the Garchomp. She waved back, but didn’t look like she was making to join them. Maybe that was because he was verbally keeping her there by gawking and saying stupid things to her.

“I’ll, ah, I’ll let you go now,” he said, gesturing at the departing girls. “was nice meeting you.”

Today’s training started and ended much earlier, and most people were heading down the path east from the oval, so they could loop around the campus and avoid running into any wandering staff, but Jim liked to just head straight to the bus stop, right down the main avenue. A teacher might see him walk out early, but Jim had never gotten much worse than a few stern words from Mrs. Green, who was usually out and about around this time.

He offered a farewell grin and turned away. Just in case he didn’t appear any more like a creep – if that was possible at this point – he did not look back to see the Garchomp depart with her friends. He took their little chat as a massive victory, and as Sun Tzu would agree, you got out of there once you’d done your part.

At least, that was the excuse he was to use this day.

But the old war general didn’t explain what you did when the Garchomp’s heavy footfalls caught up with you, and then she was beside him again, her half blue, half red face watching him past the two triangular thorns on her left bicep.

“Heya,” she said. “You’re going this way too?”

“Oh, hey, uhm, yep. Quickest way out of this dump.”

“Good to know.” She appeared to be shortening her strides so he could keep up with her. He wondered if those wings on her arms were just for show or she could actually fly around. They didn’t seem big enough for flight. “You boys looked like you were all about to drop dead back there.”

“Back where?”

“When you were training? Does that man always run you guys so hard?”

“What, Mr. Bahril? Sometimes, yeah. You should see him on his bad days.”

Her reptilian eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re implying today was a ‘good day’?”

“Better than average. This one time, last year, the government cut his and all the other teachers pay. Coach took his anger out on all of us. They had to send one of the guys to the hospital.” He realised he was rambling on and stopped himself.

“The hospital? Was it bad?”

“Yeah, they demolished it last month, thank God, but Francis is fine. He’s that big dude, number nine, the one who looks like he can lift a truck.”

They passed the intersection where Edwardo usually has his daily hold-ups. Jim spottedhim a little further down towards the science blocks. Maybe the bullies wanted to be away from any prying eyes today, and Jim counted it as a blessing. Less distractions now the better.

“He seems pretty scary,” the Garchomp said. “I heard what he said to you when you were running laps.”

“Oh… heard that, did you?” he asked, even though she just said she did. He decided to press on with what small amount of dignity he had left and changed the subject, asking her if she had recently moved here or transferred or something.

“Yes, my family moved down from upstate just recently. Got some time off, but daddy wanted me back in class as soon as possible. Haven’t even unpacked half my things yet.”

“You came down here just like that?” he asked, hand gesturing. The Garchomp nodded. “Mustn’t have been easy.”

She shrugged. “We’ve been moving around a lot lately, so I’m used to being the new girl on the block anyway. But so far you’ve all been very nice to me.”

“Let me know if I start changing that, okay?”

That giggle again, so natural and yet somehow lighting up her face as if someone were shining a spotlight down on her. “Will do,” she said.

It was a total one-eighty from the day before. The walk to the end of campus grounds was too short, and without a doubt the bus would come early today, and probably make all the green lights to boot, just so their time could be cut as short as possible. He was about to ask her something else when she suddenly stopped before the staircase leading out of the grounds.

“Well, this is where we part,” the Garchomp said. Jim turned and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“You’re staying here? Day’s pretty much over.”

“I told you, I can’t make the Tuesday meetings. A lot of my afternoons are booked. Theatre club.”

Theatre? That’s right, Jim had seen a few news fliers for that group around, most of them located on the top of rubbish bin piles, but that had been ages ago, he’d assumed they’d disbanded. Maybe that was why he hadn’t seen her much during the day. “Suppose I’ll see you next practice day then? Monday, right?” she asked.

Jim bit his tongue. It was the easiest thing in the world to give up. He could nod and shake her hand and part ways now, then maybe he’d see her on Monday and they’d walk once again to this spot, where she would go one way and he the other, the walks just short enough so that nothing could bloom between them, and they’d end up simply as two acquaintances. She had said she was moving a lot, and maybe one day she wouldn’t be there for good anymore.

He could do and let all that happen. Or maybe… maybe he could try something new. Dad had to be wrong about life being mundane. He had to, especially if one made unpredictable choices. Right?

She turned away, went five steps before he spoke up, an octane or two higher in pitch than he wanted. “Maybe I can come with?” he asked.

A strange light casted over her draconic face as she turned around, something between amusement and suspicion dancing on her features. “I thought you wanted to get home as quick as you can.”

“Bah, home schmome.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Been meaning to check that club out for a while now.”

He had no idea if her superior dragon-eyes could root out lies easier than humans could, but it did seem like she was scrutinizing him for any sign of deceit, but came up wanting. “Well, sure, alright. It’ll be a nice surprise for the others. We meet up at the hall.”

She led Jim down past the avenue to the other side of the campus. On the way he was suddenly hit by a thought. “Wait up, didn’t you say you just moved here?” She nodded. “But… you’re a part of the cheerleaders and a poet, and this is your first week?”

She grinned at him, a few of her thick teeth showing. “Mhm. Daddy wouldn’t let me laze about. Says I had enough time off already, if you can call sitting on planes for whole days and sleeping on a folding couch ‘time off’. And theatre doesn’t just mean poetry. We also do plays.”

So she joined two groups within seven days? This right after moving? On top of whatever she was studying? She put him to shame without even realising it.

As their walk continued on Jim noticed he hadn’t thought this far ahead. Was he just going to sit around watching her rehearse for an hour or however long this club lasted? Oh yes, that would be a big turn-on, seeing him, this random guy smiling in the back row of the stands while she recited Shakespeare. Maybe it wouldn’t be better to make up some bullshit excuse to get out of this before it was too late.

But before he knew it, they were at the hall’s double doors, and the Garchomp was already moving inside. She saw Jim hesitate and offered him a toothy smile, one hand holding the door open.

“Don’t worry, the others are really nice. We’ve actually been looking to get an audience for a rehearsal or two.”

Embarrassed by his obvious tentativeness, Jim held his shoulders proud and followed her inside.

The hall had that dusty smell that all carpet-blanketed, barely used buildings have. Two large ceiling fans way up in the vaulted ceiling cast an orange glow over a curtained stage and a wide stand that could accommodate a few hundred students. Jim remembered coming here once years ago for that introduction lecture, everyone new to the campus in attendance. Now barely a handful of seats were occupied, and those only by schoolbags and discarded jackets.

There were a few people about, a few humans, but they were well within the minority of Pokémon gathered inside. There was a Lapras holding hands with a Blastoise, the two attempting to do a pirouette of some kind. Near them was a Typhlosion barking orders at a few other fire-types, though she was a little hard to hear over the racket going on behind the far wall. That side of the hall was entirely glass, but someone had drawn the curtains to either keep the inside dark and dingy, or to muffle the noisy group out there, who just now erupted into a chorus of cheers from some unseen play of the century.

“And I thought the ghetto looked bad…” Jim murmured. He kicked away a tumbleweed of dust that had gathered by his heel.

“Say something?” the Garchomp asked.

“No nothing,” he replied quickly, dumping his bag by the door. He didn’t imagine staying very long.

Their timely arrival just happened to save the group of humans and Pokémon from a heavy roasting from the aforementioned Typhlosion. Her lean muscles were barely hidden behind a simple black t-shirt and long jeans stopping just above her stubby ankles. Her thin, small eyes swept over the dancing water-types like they were a pair of the biggest stooges in town.

“No no! No, clockwise spin! Always clockwise! Did you both come out of the egg head-first? Jesus Mary wept!” A little bit of flame spurted out the back of her neck at that last bit.

The rest of the idling crowd was busy deciding whether to look at the exploding Typhlosion, the dancing duo (who themselves looked totally out of their depth, pun intended), or somewhere between the two. But the approach of Jim and the Garchomp provided a better alternative, and all eyes fell on him in particular.

The Typhlosion’s ramble sputtered into silence when she noticed no one was paying her any attention, and she spun around on the two newcomers. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at the Garchomp, not even so much as glancing in Jim’s direction.

“There you are! I told you practice starts at three from now on. Where have you been?”

“Relax, Kendra, I’m five minutes late. I didn’t miss anything.”

“Don’t just assume! You may be right but don’t ever assume anything, especially about my schedules, okay? We could have got permission to move into a class instead of this place and you’d never have known!”

“That would be the day, wouldn’t it?” The dragoness rolled her eyes at Jim.

The Typhlosion eyeballed Jim, and he felt uneasy at how red her irises were when she looked at him head-on. She addressed him without seeming to actually acknowledge his presence. “And who is this, the groundskeeper? Sorry not sorry, we’ve still got a few hours before we’re done.”

“No no, I’m, ah, I’m Jim. How’s it going?” He held out his hand but the Typhlosion simply stared at him. Jim’s initial grin turned into a frown. Oh man, he hadn’t even introduced himself to the Garchomp yet! And she was the reason he was here in the first place!

Stomach lurching, he turned his offered hand to the dragon’s direction. “O-Oh, I’m Jim, by the way.”

The Garchomp looked at his hand, out there on its own with nothing to shake, then smiled as she took it into her own, larger claw-hand, rescuing him from the awkwardness that follows the gesture everywhere. The little bumpy scales on her pads were hard and warm under his palm. “Nice to meet you. Jim,” she said.

Jim felt the eyes of all others present bore into his skin, and he turned to them and smiled with a few too many teeth. “I’m Jim everyone!” he said, thinking he might as well say so and let everyone know that he was a totally awkward reject.

“This is a hell of a club you guys have here,” he added when he heard a cricket chirp outside. Just at that moment a picture hanging on the wall nearby fell off its hook and thwacked to the ground, the noise echoing. Jim felt his cheeks burn when he noticed he was still holding onto the Garchomp’s hand. He let go, wishing he could just die right about now.

“Never heard of you,” Kendra the Typhlosion said. “Handball’s on the other side of the hall. You can get there by going back the way you came in. Those curtains aren’t coming down.”

As if on a cue, a roar of mixed cheers and boos went up from behind said curtains, right after something, presumably the handball, smacked hard enough into the window over there to send a rattle through the building. A few of the group shook their heads, but that was the peak of their collective reaction.

“Actually, I heard you guys were looking for an audience,” Jim replied. “thought I’d pop by and see what’s up.”

Kendra rolled her eyes at that, pointed a claw at the Garchomp. “I suppose you ‘heard’ that from her, and that she failed to mention we were looking for a critic to provide feedback to several poetical recitals, someone with prior background knowledge on the world’s greatest artists and actors, not some sport jockey who decides to just ‘pop by’.”

“Don’t listen to her,” the Garchomp said to Jim, cupping a hand over her mouth and whispering like a conspiring child, even though everyone could clearly hear her. “She’s a little lacking in the manners department.”

“That’s not the only thing lacking in this place.” Jim thought he saw the cobwebs in the back corner move. The Garchomp snorted, and even a few of the other club members snickered.

They were soon drowned away by a fiery explosion, as a ball of flames birthed from the back of Kendra’s neck. “Oh, wise-guy is it? Well, if you think you’re so smart? JASMINE!”

A short Sylveon hiding behind a human girl jumped, the bows and ties around her pink ears flying about her like silky strands of hair not affected by gravity. She looked up at Kendra with huge eyes.

“Go ahead and recite to us all that poem you’ve been practicing on. See if our friend here can tell us who wrote it.” Kendra folded her arms with a very satisfied grin.

“Th-The whole thing or…?” Jasmine squeaked.

“Just the one verse, I think. Can’t overload our new ‘audience’ now can we?”

“A-Alright…” Jim was glad that the spotlight had at least gone over to someone else, small and positively sheepish the small Sylveon may be. The Pokémon glanced at some of her companions, who nodded their collective encouragement, before clearing her throat and lifting her chin high. She said in a small voice trying but sadly failing to be confident, thus:

My little horse must think it queer

to stop without a farmhouse near

between the woods and frozen lake

the darkest evening of the year.

She’d barely spoken the second line before flat-out refusing to make eye-contact with Jim, and clamped her eyes shut to block out the world. Her tone of voice and pacing was about what you’d expect for a timid poet performing for the first time with a severe diagnosis of stage-fright, and Jim had never before tried so hard to keep a straight face.

“There, Jim, why don’t you enlighten us and tell me who wrote that poem?” Kendra’s grin was laced with smugness. “Well done Jasmine, by the way.”

Even though the praise sounded like an afterthought, the Sylveon beamed like she was a tiny little sun, her friends murmuring their own approval. Soon the collective scrutiny was turned back on Jim, and the club went quiet. He scratched his chin in thought.

“That’s a, ah, Frost, right?” he said after a pause. He looked to the Garchomp, the only familiar thing in this place of strangers. “Robert Frost…? Right? Yes?”

The Typhlosion gave him a look. Then her mane of fire erupted like someone had poured a can of gasoline over her head. “That was an easy one!” Her talon came up and pointed at him. “Who doesn’t know Robert Frost’s most famous settings? That was just a fluke. It means nothing. JASMINE! Tell him the other one, see if he knows-“

“You know what, I think it’s time for me to go,” Jim interrupted. He offered the group an apologetic shrug. “thanks for having me, everyone. Oh and uhm, Jasmine, right? That was… okay, but… maybe try and open your eyes next time? If you can’t look at me, then… I don’t think an actual audience would want to look at you, you know?”

By the way the Sylveon deflated like a popped balloon he thought he might have gone a tad too far and insulted her. The big Blastoise’s throat rumbled with a growl, and several other Pokémon stood protectively in front of the Sylveon, glaring at Jim as if he were a bully.

“You watch your mouth, human Jim,” the Blastoise growled.

He thought he was about to be in big trouble when Jasmine’s paw came down surprisingly hard on the carpet, ordering silence.

“Wait!” she said. “He’s right. You’re right, Jim. I… I’ll work on that.” She nodded in gratitude, making only a second of eye-contact.

Jim made a gesture that said, well there you go, and the angry Pokémon calmed a little. He wondered if he was the first person to actually criticise Jasmine, and her friends had been too tentative to say the truth before. Art was, after all, delicate in more ways than one.

“Anyway,” he said, slowly backing up as the club watched him go. He’d overstayed his welcome long enough. “Ah, keep it real. And my name’s Jim by the way.” He was already scooping up his bag and halfway out the door before he was done speaking.

“That’s right,” Kendra said from behind him. “go on and skat. We don’t need any more males coming in here and explaining to us what we have to do.”

“Ah, it’s like that, is it?” Jim grumbled. He wasn’t planning on going there right now. He let the barking Typhlosion get back to what she was doing and got out of there.

He was pushing the door open when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. It was the Garchomp. In his haste he’d completely forgotten about her. Way to go there, girls just love it when you just dismiss them after asking them to show you around. “Going already?”

“I know when I’m not welcome.” He glanced at the flames spurting from Kendra’s back.

“Don’t listen to her,” she said, nothing about her seeming to say she was offended by him leaving. “Kendra’s just scared to death of being judged.”

Her claw fell from his shoulder and settled down to her wide hip. He’d never seen a dragon with such an hourglass figure before, generous in all the right places. Usually the Charizards and Salamances were all brutish and bulky, but this one was a prime example of when sleekness meets with femininity. Jim had to will himself to keep his eyes on her own.

“Didn’t know Typhlosion’s could be such bi… ah, tempered,” he said.

“You should see her on her bad days,” she said, echoing his own words about Mr. Bahril. The two of them shared a laugh at the inside joke, and Jim applauded himself for how natural he sounded. “Oh, what was your name again?” she then asked.

His face went from bright to dark, and something in his chest twisted into a knot. Hadn’t he said so, like, a million times just now? He babbled out something as he struggled to find some reasoning as to how she forgot his name, when she was standing right there and-

She saw the look on his face and laughed. “I’m just teasing. I always do when I’ve embarrassed myself. Shifts the tension away, I suppose.”

He asked her what she meant.

“Well, we’ve been talking all this time and I haven’t even told you my name! So silly of me. I’m Cassidy.”

“J-Jim,” he said as if she totally did not know that already and he stood there like an idiot wondering what the hell you say when you make yourself look like a retard. He’d shove his hand into his mouth right now if it was socially acceptable. “I-It’s a nice name,” he added.

Cassidy smiled at him. “Most three-letter names are.”

“N-No I didn’t mean mine, obviously.” Her grin was infectious no matter how draconic it looked. “Who’d think ‘Jim’ is anything to rave about?”

“A lot of people I imagine. It’s easy to remember. Simple.”

“Just like me,” Jim said. Cassidy giggled, and he counted that as a big win.

“I don’t think someone simple would know Robert Frost’s works right off the top of his head. You know, because… not to insult you or anything, but since you’re… hmm…”

This time it was she who was stumbling over her words, and him the one laughing her off. “Because I’m a dumb jock, like Kendra said?” He shrugged. “She might be right, but you wouldn’t know it at first, but I’m a real sucker for drama.”

“That so?” she asked. One side of her chops dipped into a frown. “I’m sorry if that sounded rude, Jim. Kendra’s right, I do like to presume sometimes. Well, all of the time.”

“I think everyone’s guilty of doing that,” Jim said. “so all’s forgiven.”

A pause. And by some miracle it wasn’t an awkward one. Her smile, with just the right amount of shyness tweaking at the corners of her chops, probably had something to do with that.

“You should come by again,” she said. “Same time, Tuesday, if you can skip that meeting you mentioned. I’ll have Kendra’s flames fanned by then. Promise.”

He grinned at the pun and shrugged. “Maybe I will.” They stood silent for a few moments, the afternoon sun warming Jim’s back. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Anywho I better get going. I’ll see you later?”

“Sure,” she said. “Bye Jim!”

“Bye.”

Cassidy disappeared back inside, the door swinging shut after her tail ducked into the frame. His heart racing, Jim turned up the path and back-tracked the way he and Cassidy had taken, pumping his fist in victory when he was safely on the other side of the campus. His father would have a few colourful things to say for keeping him waiting out there for half an hour, but Jim didn’t care. He had a name, now.

And that was more than a start.

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.”

Chapter 3

Down in the Valley

1

The week slipped by as Jim’s date with Cassidy approached. He’d take another week of preparation any day, as he had yet to plan out how he was going to woo her and spike her interest in him.

Thus, he was forced to seek council from his most trusted companions. Surely an input from someone looking from outside his perspective could provide some useful insight? It was a solid plan…

“You gotta eat her out before the clock strikes twelve.”

… if his companions were just a tweak or two wiser. Or weren’t all sex-obsessed males who laughed at Jim’s expense.

Maybe I should ask a chick or two, a voice told him, one that sounded a lot like Kendra. I think she might be rubbing off on me.

“I said useful advice, dick-wad.” Jim said over the noisy, beef-ridden air of the cafeteria.

“You didn’t actually say useful, technically.” Isaac’s grin couldn’t be more shit-eating if he tried. “Word your wishes carefully, Jimmy.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to you bunch of assholes.” He ran a hand down his face.

“Hey! I had some valid points, didn’t I?” Matty said. “Dragons like gems and stuff yeah? Get her a fancy necklace, a nice ring, and the dragon will open her legs soon enough.”

“Just because she’s a dragon doesn’t make her a gold-digger,” Gavin pointed out, his own uncertainty causing him to glance at Jim. “Right? She’s not loaded, is she?”

“I don’t know. Look guys, she’s just a normal girl with scales, thorns, a tail, and the power to burn my wiener off if I do something stupid! So I’d appreciate it if you could all just give me something I can work with.”

“Well let’s brainstorm,” Nate said, the only one who hadn’t taken the opportunity to rib Jim this afternoon. “You said you don’t know much about her, so we’ll have to go off by generalisation. Anyone here know any dragons? Friends, or a distant cousin, even?”

Chins were scratched as the party took a moment to think. “Hey,” Gavin said. “I had a friend back in primary who was a Zekrom. Is, I mean. He used to pick on me, until I socked him one right in the mouth. Pow! We were best buddies after that.”

They all looked at him like he’d just spoken another language. “Dude,” Isaac said. “Even my suggestion was more helpful than that.”

“No no, there’s something.” Nate turned to Jim. “Dragons are proud, right? It’s part of their biology, so if Gavin could befriend a bully by punching him, the same principal applies.”

“So I should… strike her?” Jim blinked.

“No, dolt, be assertive with her. If girls like a direct guy, I’d say it goes double for a dragon. No empty words or gestures.”

“Direct…” Jim tasted the word, finding the sense in it. “Okay, okay. Anything else?”

“If I may…” Isaac began. There were several rolls of eyes at this. “Hey if anyone here’s an expert on pussy its ya boi’. Anyway, imagine how many guys have tried approaching a derg the careful way – “Oh geez, mighty dragon, would you like to get something to eat? It’s okay if you don’t I’m just dirt compared to your draconic splendor.” Who’s gonna respect that wimpy shit?”

“So you gotta outmatch her own pride. She’s a proud dragon? You be proud-er. She’s smug? Be smugger! She-dragons totally dig that, especially on a first date!”

“You ever actually date a dragon, Isaac?” Matty asked.

“Almost!” he replied.

“Besides that small detail,” Matty continued. “Isaac may be right. It’ll be the last thing she’ll expect.” He raised a cautious hand. “Just don’t go too overboard, yeah? You’re not that kind of guy, don’t pretend you are or she’ll see right through it.”

Jim took this all with a grain of salt, not willing to admit he was… nervous, to put it lightly. Cassidy did have a lot of teeth. Pretty, clean, white teeth that sparkled when she smiled. Who knew what she was capable of when angered, even without using her Type?

But Isaac had a point (go figure) – he couldn’t be scared of her just because she was a dragon. This wasn’t the only reason why he was unsettled, but it was more superficial, so it was an easy scapegoat for Jim’s deeper troubles.

“Wish we had more for you, Jim,” Nate tried.

“Nah, it’s something to think about, at least.” Jim checked the time. “You guys doing anything this afternoon?” When they all answered with shrugs and negatives, Jim suggested they drop by the club with him.

Isaac blinked. “Wait, we have a theatre cl-“

“Yes, we do,” Jim cut him off before he could get the whole thing out. “I’ve been helping them out and giving them some tips. I could use some backup.”

Their reaction was about what one would expect from a bunch of uncultured jocks. Jim would have had the same reaction, if he hadn’t been convinced by the prettiest dragon around.

“There’s not any poetry is there?” Matty asked. “That shits boooring.”

“There might be, and it’s not boring. Some of them deliver a pretty good performance. You guys don’t even have to analyze it, just cheer and clap every now and then. I don’t want to have to keep going alone.”

“I don’t know, Jimbo.” Isaac scratched his long hair. “You’ve got a reason to be there, tickle the derg puss and shit, but we don’t.”

“Most of the club is made up of girls and they’re single.”

“Yeah I’m down,” Isaac said.

“Me too,” Matty added.

“Couldn’t hurt to at least hear them out,” Nate pondered.

Gavin was grinning despite his disappointed shake of the head. “You guys are something else. I’ll come with, just to see if any of you can score.”

Jim and his Mythics buddies met up later and made their way across the campus, laughing and ribbing each other in a way only close friends could achieve.

Their volume seemed uncanny in the quietness that gripped this lower part of the university grounds, and Jim’s companions noticed it.

“I haven’t been down here since I tried my first blunt,” Matty remarked, his neck craning up to examine the roof of the club hall. “And that was years ago. Been no reason too come here since.”

“Well I’m here to change that,” Jim replied, leading the way to the double doors. “And guys, before we go in, please try and act normal for once, huh? Just for an hour?”

“A whole hour?” Isaac asked. “That’ll cost you extra. Like pointing out which girls are easy.”

“Like that’s gonna help you,” Gavin said. “You got the personality of a dirty toilet brush.”

“And the haircut of one too,” Jim said, hushing Isaac before he could think of a comeback. “Alright shut the fuck up guys, they might be rehearsing…”

He gripped the handle and pushed the doors open, friends by his flanks, confidence surging in his chest now that he was with company. By the way the club was arranged his suspicions were correct – it looked like it was Jasmine the Sylveon’s turn to perform in front of everyone.

“Okay guys,” Jim whispered. “Bags by the door and we’ll slip into the back and-“

“Hey ladies!” Isaac called out, causing Jasmine to sputter mid-sentence. The man waved at them.

It need not be specified who among the club was most annoyed at the disturbance. Kendra’s left eye twitched as she turned to see the group of boys intruding at the worst possible time. “Jesus Mary wept,” she said under her breath, looking back at Jasmine and the others. “Take five, everyone, we’ve got ourselves a ‘proper’ audience now.”

There were more than a few nodding heads and whispered praises at this (much to Kendra’s chagrin). The Tyhplosion turned to meet the approaching group, Cassidy joining her side and giving her a light nudge.

“Told you he wouldn’t come alone.”

“It seems your admirer is determined to keep proving me wrong, Cass.”

“You’re not complaining.”

“Hi Kendra, Cassidy,” Jim’s smile was more sincere for the latter. Kendra threw up a little in her mouth. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “I brought some buddies.”

“I can see that, we’re not blind.” The Typhlosion gave each of the boys a once-over, each one less impressive than the last. “I was expecting at least double this amount.”

“Baby steps, Ken’,” Jim tried. “Everyone’s gone home by now.”

“Don’t “Ken'” me, Jim.” She scrutinized one of the Mythics for longer than the others. “And who’s this? The one so brazen enough to interrupt our rehearsals?”

“Me?” Isaac asked.

“No, the other dog-faced loud mouth. I’m guessing you’re the dumb one of the group? Do you always shout whenever you enter a room? Is it because you crave attention your daddy doesn’t bother giving you?”

Each Mythic, Jim, Cassidy, and even a few observing Pokémon had little ‘o’ shaped mouths of astonishment. Isaac was the worst of them all, with an expression as slack as a slapped ass cheek.

“I- I will have you know,” Isaac began. “That I have more friends than your club has members! You can’t talk about attention.”

Jim watched the squabble with a thoughtful look, realizing he’d gotten off easy, the first time he’d met Kendra. She was the most snide, rude, condescending she-devil he’d ever met. And it was actually… kind of hot.

And it seemed he wasn’t alone in this conclusion. He heard Matty whisper to Gavin: “I want to be her friend.” To which Gavin nodded agreement.

“Now that pleasantries are over,” Cassidy said, stepping between the arguing duo. “Why don’t you boys grab some seats? We nicked a few from F block so you don’t have to sit all the way in the back. They’re over in the corner.”

Nate escorted one stunned Isaac with the other Mythics to where she pointed. Jim was about to join them when a talon pressed against his shoulder. It was Cassidy, and she asked him how he managed to convince his friends to come along.

“After Kendra told me about your vote, I had to go the extra mile.”

“Vote?” She frowned. “What vote?”

“The… vote you all made to make me an honourary member?”

The Garchomp folded her arms. “I think I’d remember a group vote like that.”

“Then that means… But Kendra, I thought you said-“

“Positions everyone!” Kendra shouted, drowning out Jim’s questions. “Break time’s over, chop chop!” She shooed Jim one way, Cassidy the other. “Keep your friends in line, Jim, if you can even manage that.”

Jim stared at her back for a moment longer, a suspicious grin on his face. The sound of chair legs dragging across the floor drew his attention to his friends, and he went to join them as the club reoriented themselves for their ‘auditions’.

When the Mythics were all seated and quiet, Kendra took center stage and addressed the boys. It was obvious it had been quite some time since she’d had to present before severaloutsiders. “Ahem. It is with some effort that I welcome our new ‘critics’ to our individual rehearsals. We have a strict timetable at the moment so let’s get down to it. Firstly-“

“Wait wait,” Jim got up and gestured to his right. “Why are they still closed?”

Without waiting for an answer, he went over to the window that had once been the target of many a handball. The dusty, rugged curtains were still drawn over them. “No need for these anymore,” he said, and with one great effort, heaved the curtain from left to right.

Soft, afternoon light flooded its way inside, presenting with it a clean view of the world outside. Jim sneezed on account of all the dust clinging to the velvet drapes, but apart from that it was a welcome sight to all.

-Save for one of course.

“Must you interrupt every single meeting at least once?” Kendra asked him, hands on her hips.

“Yes,” he answered, pulling open the windows, letting the place get some fresh air. Once he was satisfied, he dusted his hands and took his place by his friends once more. “There we are. Better right?”

“Yeah I can actually see the stage now,” Gavin said. “Continue please, hostess.”

The Typhlosion furrowed her brow at the politeness, finding it odd coming from such brutes. “Ahem, yes. Starting us off this afternoon will be Jasmine, with her recital of some of John Keats works.”

“Poetry? Fuuuck…” Matty groaned, but his attitude did a one eighty when Jim stamped his foot down on his toes. “Ow! I mean, wooo! Yeah!”

Jim was relieved his friends didn’t go too overboard, their cheers and claps eliciting a shy smile from the little Sylveon. She had taken Jim’s earlier notes to heart, speaking loud and clear, conveying just the right amount of emotion into her lines. It came as a pleasant surprise that she didn’t really seem bothered being judged by multiple people. Even Matty admitted it wasn’t half bad when she was finished.

One by one the club put themselves before their first real scrutiny from a group. Although his friends were honest with what they did and didn’t like about each performance, Jim found his opinion a bit more sort after than the others. Maybe it was because he was a familiar face, or maybe he was fooling himself as well as the rest of the club that he actually knew what he was talking about when he criticised them.

Either way, it was humbling, and Jim even made a few new friends. Nothing short of Cassidy sweeping him off his feet and kissing him could make this afternoon much better.

Speaking of which…

“Dude I think your derg’s up next,” Isaac whispered to him. “What’s she gonna do? A romantic poem? Dancing, maybe?”

“Dunno,” Jim said. “but I’ve got a hunch she’s going last for a reason.”

“If I hear Shakespeare one more time I’m walking,” Matty said. “Let’s hope she does something with that hot bod’ of hers. I’d be an all-time regular if that’s the case.”

Jim slapped him across the arm with his notebook. “Don’t talk about my derg like that.”

“Just being honest, man.”

Before Jim could strike again, Kendra’s voice drew the attention of all. “I’m afraid we’re out of time for today, everyone.”

The Mythic’s were like a crowd of disappointed fans, seeing their favourite team lose a game because of a referee’s poor decision. Hands were thrown up, faces were palmed, even Jim threw his notebook down in shame.

“There has been a change in plans,” Kendra said, hands raised to try and calm them down. “The club needs to allocate more time to next week’s performance. If you must insist on returning, you can come back then.”

“We got our first game next week,” Gavin said. Kendra’s gaze alone told him how much she cared. “Well, I’ll admit I had my doubts, but this was kinda cool, Jim.”

“Told you. Wouldn’t have been the same if it was just me here, so thanks guys. I’m sure the club appreciates it too.”

Jim couldn’t be closer to the truth. The whole club came down and mingled with the Mythics, the boys finding themselves bombarded with questions on how they did.

Jim politely excused himself from the cluster, a self-segregated Typhlosion catching his attention outside the bustle. Her usual cross-armed, agitated posture was there, but he could see that she was pleased, watching her club being so much livelier than usual.

He joined her side, watching with her the humans and Pokémon share an uncommon interest. “So, your friends,” Kendra began. “How did they find it?”

“In general? I’d say they liked it. But they’d probably prefer a more action driven performance. You know, like bungee jumps and fights and crap.”

“That’s what you jocks find entertaining? How enlightening…”

“Well, I don’t know, not as enlightening as say… a ‘group’ vote? One involving a certain new member?” He gave her a knowing look, which she met with a rolling of the eyes.

“Shut up.” She grinned.

“Woah woah! What was that you just did with your mouth? You didn’t just smile, did you?”

The Pokémon pushed her chin into her shoulder, anything that could help her look away from the human. “Indeed. Despite your beliefs I’m not entirely without a heart.”

“Maybe you should show it more often. It looks weird, sure, but good weird.”

“Jim, that’s enough. If you came here to humiliate me you’ve made your point. You know the expression of kicking a dead horse?”

He was about to point out he wasn’t trying to embarrass her, but decided to let it drop. He paused before continuing. “Anyway, you told the club about the principal’s offer? And the stakes?”

“Only a few of them,” Kendra replied, her tone flipping instantly back to normal. “Unnecessary pressure is the last thing we need. Best leave it for later.”

“If you say so.” Jim paused. “You thought of what kind of show you’ll put on? Have some pretty good speakers in this little group. Maybe a play?”

“Of course we would do a play. The only problem is how to include everyone in at least one scene each.”

“Don’t forget the theme,” Cassidy said, coming before the two, chops turned up in a smile. “Amazing friend’s you have, Jim. They’ve given us some great insight.”

“Really?” Jim and Kendra asked at the same time. They shared a confused look at the mutual question.

“Mm, in particular that Isaac. He was telling us about this prop store his uncle owns downtown. He might have something.”

“Oh, he’s got something alright.” Over her thorny shoulder Jim could see Isaac talking to a human and Pokémon couple. He cleared his throat. “Hey, where was your time in the spotlight, Cassidy? That’s twice now you’ve been bumped.”

“I was part of Caius’ group wasn’t I?”

You had like two lines, he wanted to say.

“But today it was on purpose,” the Garchomp continued. “My throat’s a little sore today. I’d rather perform at my best than not.”

“You’d better be at your best when the principal comes,” Kendra said. “One slip up and it could well be our last performance before we exit stage left forever.”

“You girls got a plot in mind or something?” Jim asked. “I can think of a few good books you can take inspiration from.”

“What books, Spot the Dog?” Kendra asked. “Please. The plot is the easy part, what matters is what theme we want to focus on. I was thinking we move into our strengths with a story of perseverance, with a main character acting as a symbol of this very building, struggling through the hardships of a new age.”

“A lot of us like the idea,” Cassidy said. “but we also like the thought of something more light-hearted. Maybe a romantic comedy – everybody likes those. We just have no idea what the principal would like better.”

“What do you think, Jim?”

He was a little taken back that the question had not only been aimed at him, but it was Kendra who had asked it. He glanced between the two Pokémon and frowned in thought. It was only until later that he realised to the full extent that the club’s future rested on his answer.

“The principal seems like the kind of guy who could use a chuckle. He looked kind of excited to get a break from all his usual work, didn’t he Kendra?”

The Typhlosion nodded. “It’s likely he sees us only as a distraction from the real issues. Still, we should give our audience what they want, so a romantic comedy it is. I shall conceive a storyboard by next meeting.”

“Need some help with it?” Cassidy offered.

“No, we shall tweak it later once I’ve informed the rest of the club. Until then, it would be best if you returned alone from now on, Jim.”

“Hey?” he asked. “But I thought you like an audience? Everyone else does.”

“Unfortunately this will only distract the club from practicing, and we are on a strict time limit with this very short notice.”

“I guess that makes sense.” He hoped the club’s confidence had boosted enough from this singular visit. “Doubt we’ll be able to get around to another visit anyway. Season’s starting next week, so coach’ll be reigning us in whenever he can.”

“You’ll still be able to make our meetings, right?” Cassidy asked.

“Oh I’ll find a way.” He wanted to add a wink to this but stopped halfway, feigning an itchy eye which he scratched.

“Good. Suppose the bus will be leaving soon. I’ll see you later.”

She’d said this to Kendra, who bid her farewell. Cassidy’s long tail arched before Jim’s waist as she moved past him, flashing him a quick look. Jim was right about to follow after the dragon, when something occurred to him.

“Hey, Kendra?” He turned.

“Hmm?” She was digging through her handbag.

“I was thinking.” He gestured behind him. “Me and Cassidy are going out Friday.”

The Pokémon gazed at him with a humourless grin. “If it weren’t so ludicrous an event, I’d be impressed.”

“Yeah I know. But you’ve known her for a long time, right? I was thinking about flowers, and wondered if you happened to know her favourite kind?”

She closed the clip on her bag, slinging it over her shoulder with a sigh. “Flowers? Are you serious?”

“Yes…? No?” Either answer seemed to anger her more.

“Flowers are the most cliché, overdone thing since the dark ages. You want to bore her, go right ahead, see what happens.”

“Okay, no flowers. What about, uhm… a plant? Plants come from the ground, and since ground is her Type… you think that could work…?”

Kendra held the expression of one who’s just been told that the Milky Way candy bar was named after a planet. “Simple ideas from a simple male,” she sighed. “How can you find this so difficult? If you weren’t so hopeless you’d see we women really aren’t hard to understand.”

“That’s why I’m asking you. Call it a favour, for bringing my buds along this afternoon.”

The Pokémon mumbled something under her breath, something derogatory, Jim guessed. “Fine. Shouldn’t expect you’d do anything out of the kindness of your heart. Any girl wouldn’t mind a stiff drink, but fortunately for you Cass is a romantic. She likes Ferrero Rocher’s.”

“Chocolate? If anything’s cliché, its chocolate that tops the list.“

“Nevertheless, she’s grown a taste for them, probably because of her fondness of Italy, but don’t give it to her right away, wait a while. A parting gift, preferably.”

“Right, parting gift. Thanks, Kendra.”

She made a gruff noise he presumed as a you’re welcome, before shooing him away, claiming she had work to do. Cassidy was standing beside his discarded bag, watching. When he was close enough she asked: “What were you two talking about?”

“Oh, nothing just…” He picked up his bag. “I was asking if I had a part in this play for the principal.”

“Oh? And?”

“And apparently lead bush has been taken. She offered me stump number two, but I think she was being sarcastic.”

“Maybe one day we’ll have an opening. Mind walking me to the bus?”

In the corner of his vision he saw his friends watching him. Isaac made a hole with his thumb and finger and with his other hand, dipped two fingers through the loop in rhythmic movements.

Jim flipped him the bird when Cassidy wasn’t looking. “Sure. Gonna tell me what you would have done today if your throat wasn’t sore?”

She did not.

2

Friday afternoon. Jim was glad that he could skip out on training so he didn’t turn up to the date as a sweating mess, but he still caught the early bus home for a quick shower and a fresh pair of clothes.

He picked out some simple black pants and tee, contemplating one of his more expensive jackets, then dismissing it. They were going out shopping for clothes, all a jacket would do was make him look rich and spoiled.

Simple it was, he decided, spraying himself with another layer of cologne. He wondered what Cassidy would be wearing tonight. Her usual slim, sports-tops she wore during theatre were fine and all, but he was eager to see what else her wardrobe sported.

A knock on the door. “Jim? I’ve got a few clients I need to check on. I’ll be back later.”

“Me too,” Jim said. He stepped over a discarded shirt and opened the door.

“Oh?” His father glanced at his attire. “Ah. Got a date with the dragon, hm?”

“Somehow.”

Father didn’t share in his uncertainty. “You’ll do fine. You got keys to get in?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Remember: pounce. Good luck son.”

“Yeah. You too.”

Fifteen minutes later and Jim was outside the coffee lounge, right at the spot they’d parted just a few days earlier. He still remembered her hand upon his arm – the wicked claws mixed with the supple, tender touch of a woman had no comparison.

Sounds like poetry, that. Think I’m getting the hang of it.

He checked the clock on his phone. It was getting closer to their arranged time. Even though he turned up ten minutes early, his thoughts started turning for the worse. If she stood him up tonight, he swore he’d never even look at a girl again.

-Except those one’s in the catalogues he kept tucked away underneath his mattress. They didn’t count.

He was brought out of his thoughts when an approaching dragon caught his eye. There was no mistaking Cassidy’s yellow snout and big horns, but the dress she wore made him do a double take. A dress with little aqua-green tree branches that wrapped around her waist and stomach in leafy lines. A frilly skirt that ended just below her knees rotated with each stride. Two straps over her shoulders supported the gown while leaving her arms bare, likely because her bicep thorns obstructed her ability to wear sleeves easily.

She gave him a wave and, to his surprise, pinched two ends of her skirt, and lowered herself into a curtsy one would see in… well, in a play.

“Hell-oo,” Jim said, more to express his surprise than to actually greet her. He remembered some of the advice of the he’d received. “You look good.” Not enough. “Great,” he added.

“Thank you.” She lifted out of the curtsy and clasped her hands before her stomach, handbag dangling over her left arm. “Shame we both had to miss out on club practice today.”

Kendra’s new timetable changes were as inconvenient as Mr. Bahril’s were, though Jim supposed that was partly his fault – getting the principal interested in the first place.

“I think they can survive without us just this one time,” Jim said.

“Maybe – we’ll have to wait and see if it’s worth it.” She grinned a challenge at him, one Jim was happy to accept, even if he was more than a tad timid. “Well? Where to first?”

“Most of the good stuff’s that way.” He nodded over his shoulder. “I was thinking we could walk around until something strikes your fancy.”

“Simple and sound. Lead the way.” She gestured for him to go.

Jim watched her outstretched arm, swallowed a lump in his throat. Pounce, his father’s voice echoed through his thoughts. Who’s gonna respect that wimpy shit? Issacs’s voice joined in. Hormonal, disgusting, and entirely male.Even Kendra had added herself in, because why the hell not?

Jim fought against all his own inner worries and moved his hand in an act of pure boldness. He’d already taken on the hard part – actually talking to the dragon before him. Surely now came the simple things, and Jim was an expert on simple.

He levelled his hand and angled his arm in a way that it formed a loop across his side. He didn’t quite have the courage to place himself on her, but perhaps that was for the best. Heart hammering away, he looked down at his arm, then back at her in an invitation. “Come on then.”

She stared at him, face blank as a rock. “Excuse me?”

It seemed he had no choice but to take the first step. He swallowed once more, and moved closer so that his arm was over hers until they were almost touching. “Take my arm,” he said, as coolly as he could – which didn’t sound very cool in all honesty.

“Oh!” She blinked in realisation, and then her claws clasped around his skin, just above the wrist. There her touch was again, warm and gentle and electric. Something in Jim’s chest tightened up. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting… well…”

Neither was I. She let her sentence trail, until Jim picked it up while slowly beginning to walk. He had goosebumps all over, her nails slightly pricking his arm. Being so close now he picked up on her perfume – a slightly spicy smell, with something like cinnamon mixed into it. “Th-The night awaits! We should get going, yeah?”

He thought it would be a little awkward, given that he’d never actually held a woman with his arm in this kind of way, but he thought it would be much better than him walking in front of her, leading her on like he was some tour guide.

He was hesitant the first few blocks, both him and her not used to this kind of gesture, but as with anything, one eases slowly into a new experience, and Jim found his closeness with the dragon rather tantalising.

“Mind if we take a little detour?” he asked, and Cassidy responded with a polite shrug.

Rather than head right into the valley, Jim took a left and walked up a slight incline. Houses of the middle-class lined the streets, each land plot here probably costing a small fortune, being so close to the valley itself.

“Check this out,” he said, rounding the corner of the street, hair flicking back as a strong gust bracketed the pair.

Cassidy was led to a view spanning over the lower echelons of the city. Sprawled before her lay the heart of the valley, purples and yellows and other exotic colours sprinkled throughout a carpet of capitalism. The structures and people became denser the further out she looked, until the land rose up again at a hill many miles away. Huge billboards and signs decorated with neon lingered over the more prosperous joints, sticking out like metal fingers from a ground of luxury.

All of this was basked in a pleasant afternoon orange glow and a purple, cloudless sky – the sun lowering itself to the western expanse of water, the clear horizon interrupted here and there by some not-so-distant archipelagos. Jim glanced at her when the Garchomp took in a sharp breath.

“Cool, right?” Jim watched the sights with her. “I like to come this way whenever I head down. Coming back up, though, that’s a real bi… Uhm, hard part.”

“It’s amazing.” With her free arm she pointed. “Those islands are so close!”

“The rainbow isles? Yeah, sometimes when the tide’s low you can walk out to them, but I like to just row over.”

“Row?” She blinked. “You have a boat?”

“Sorta. Some guys at the docks lend them out if you ask nicely. I’m a regular. Well… I was, ages ago.”

The silence was welcoming as Cassidy took another moment to drink it all in. It was interesting to note she looked more towards the water than anywhere else. He waited until she decided she had enough. “So where are these shops you’re going to show me?”

“Not far, just off to the right down there.”

They moved across the street and downhill, the low hum of dense conversation becoming louder and louder, the number of cars driving by gradually increasing until it was a regular occurrence. The smell of engine fuel began to take hold as they delved into the outer valley. Cassidy clutched his arm just a tad tighter when they were absorbed into the hustle.

“Place is way too busy during the weekends,” he told her, though he had to raise his voice to be heard. “But it’s not so bad on Fridays.”

“This isn’t busy already?” she shouted back. Jim didn’t appear to understand the question.

Several intersecting strips of roads lined with commerce all joined together at the main square. They moved through the outer quarter to the inner district. Cars had a way of powering through here once upon a time, but latest redesigns gave pedestrians the privilege of presence, and instead of the sounds of revving engines, hundreds of conversations took hold as the main commotion.

Hundreds of boots clicked against paved cobblestones, as people and Pokémon alike made their way from one branching avenue to another. At the centre of the square, stone depictions of dolphins mid-flight encircled a tall fountain spire, the noise of flowing water calming, if mostly drowned out by all else.

Jim stopped and took a moment to get his bearings. He pointed. “There’s loads of good places down that way. Fashion Lane, I call it.”

“How original.”

They passed places cheap and expensive, but there were more of the latter than the former. Jim wasn’t aware of how much she’d be willing to spend, but opted to wait until Cassidy chose something she liked.

“How about this one?” She stopped before a display window with several formal suits and dresses upon display, mannequins posed dramatically, jewellery hung over stiff wrists and necks.

He read the brass sign above with a frown. Not a cheap place, but he was pretty sure he got some stuff from here long ago.

“Sure, yeah.”

All sorts of formal and informal wear crowded the front of the store, Cassidy casually letting his arm go to fiddle through the racks. The loss of her contact was disappointing, but he supposed holding onto her the whole night might come off as a little creepy.

“What sort of stuff you thinking?” he asked her, stepping aside when another customer brushed by. “Smart? Casual? Business? All of the above?”

“Oh, just something that can accentuate my personality without making me look desperate.” She plucked a hanger from the rack and frowned at what hung from it.

“I think there’s some good stuff in the back. They’re Pokémon-friendly too. Tail-holes and things like that.”

He led her past and through the next section, by some rows of shoes and sunglasses, to the women’s section. The wall here was lined with dresses and tops, and even some underwear to the side, which Jim made sure to keep clear from.

“Mm. My my.” The Garchomp felt the material of one of the clothes. “You certainly know your fashion, Jim. These look great.”

“Presuming again, Cassidy?”

She flashed him a smile. He liked that way too much. “I can’t help it. I don’t think I know any boys who know even one thing about clothes.”

“Well I’m not like most boys.” He tried to sound humble but instead sounded cheesy. He cleared his throat and hoped she didn’t hear him.

“Clearly not.” Her eyes slowly drifted back to examine the dresses again. “What about this one? Or this one?”

She went from left to right, asking his opinions on the ones she picked out. He noticed that every step brought them closer to the underwear section. Jim remembered this one time, when he was like nine or something, he was at Target with his mum and at one point wondered off into the lingerie area. It was the first time he’d discovered the famed brazier, plucking one off its hook, and promptly wearing it like a hat. One of the staff found him and brought him back to an embarrassed, and rightly scolding mother.

Did that count as PTSD? Jim certainly felt nervous, the closer and closer Cassidy came to the undergarments. Jim feigned surprise and pointed the other way. “Woah, hey, look at that stuff over there! Let’s check that out.”

“In a moment, I see something here.” She didn’t see Jim’s face scrunch up as he was forced closer, closer. Could he run away? Pretend he needed some fresh air?

“Oh, here we are,” Cassidy said, lifting the strap of a bra. Too late now. “I could use some of these.”

“Really?” He was trying to look anywhere else but the clothes. The rafters, the lights outside, the guy at the counter, anything.

“I haven’t been swimming in forever.”

“S-Swimming?” Against his instincts he looked down and blinked. Not underwear but swimwear. Still made him gulp, though.

“They’re all so cute. Which one do you think?” She looked at him.

“Me?” He looked at a pair of swimming tops and tried not imagining Cassidy in one of them. “They’re, uhm… you should pick them, who cares what I think?”

“But you’ve got good taste. Come on, help me out.”

His laugh was raked with nerves. “Haha, okay…” The wall of spandex presented itself to him. Jim gulped, imagining what kind of reaction he’d get from Cassidy if he chose poorly. He tried looking for a Poké-friendly set to narrow down his search. He liked the contrast of her current green dress against her blue body, so maybe something green? “That one maybe?”

Cassidy reached over and pulled off the hanger. Dangling from it hung a green one-piece, with a long cut in the neck that would leave no cleavage to the imagination. The Garchomp tugged at the tag and squinted.

“M-Maybe something else will-“

“Where’s the change rooms?” She looked around, spying a section of the shop branching off. “Ah, there. Come on, let’s see if these fit.”

“… What?” This time she was leading him through the shop. A clerk asked if they needed help, which Cassidy replied no.

“I might need to go a size up. Hope these silly thorns don’t cut them up like my last ones.” She looked for an unoccupied room. “Coming Jim?”

“What?”

“If there’s anyone who’s good at feedback, it’s you. You should be the first to see how they look.”

“… What?”

Jim felt increasingly alarmed when she led him to the change room door, then heaved a sigh of relief when she stepped in by herself, the door clicking as he flicked the lock. He leant against the wall and folded his arms, waited.

“How they look?” he asked after a few minutes. Fabric shuffled roughly as the Garchomp got changed.

“You tell me.” The door opened and she stepped out. Gone was her green dress in favour of a slim blouse and denim jeans. Jim blinked when she gave him a twirl, her rump area holding a cut hole so her tail could swish about in the slow three-sixty.

“You look good.” You said that already. “It suits you well,” he said, nodding.

“I thought so too.” She seemed satisfied with his answer, turning and closing the door again. More ruffling. “You going to get something as well, Jim?”

“Nah,” he said, watching the door. “I’m good for clothes. Could do with a bite though.”

“Good idea! I saw a cute sushi-train back at the square.”

A few minutes and she was out again, this time in a skirt and long-sleeved top, one that allowed her thorns to show, although the fabric stretched unhealthily. Jim felt a little weird that he kept on telling her she looked nice, but really he had no complaints about his Garchomp friend. She could dress herself in velvet sweatpants and he’d still drool over her.

Not his fault she was busty in all the right places. The skirt hid most of her thick thighs, but her cheerleading outfit was more than generous in that regard.

“I’d like the sleeves if it weren’t for these.” From her bicep, her thorns poked out from the fabric. “They can never cut the holes just right. Usually I do it on my own with some scissors. Custom-fit, you know? I wish I didn’t have them.”

“Your thorns?” He could see how they can get in the way. “I don’t know, they’re different. Different good.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you had them.” Her tone was a tad down, but by her smile he could tell she took it as a compliment. “Two keepers then.”

Jim was wondering if she’d come out in the swimsuit next. There would be no complaints from him, of course, but surely he hadn’t done that well so far, right? Thankfully the door didn’t open when she spoke. “It’s a little tight. Maybe one size up and it will be perfect.”

“I’m… I’m glad?” he said.

It wasn’t long before she left the changing room, back in her green dress. Her other clothes were clutched in her claws. She looked him up and down and giggled.

“What?” he asked. He checked his shirt for stains.

“Nothing. Pretty clothes aren’t usually a guy’s thing. It’s different. Different good, as some would say.” Jim felt heat in his cheeks from his own words being thrown back at him. “Anyway, suppose I better pick out one.”

“One? Why not all three?”

“Oh, they’re a pinch expensive. Not that I’m surprised.”

“You can get them all, Cassidy. My shout.”

She looked at him with eyes wide. “What? Oh, no, I couldn’t let you spend this much money on me.”

“Bah, money schmoney. Call it a gift.”

“But I…” She saw his expression was not wavering. “Jim, it’s too much.”

“Who would I be if I didn’t get my date a gift?” he asked. “Come on, to the checkout!”

He handed the clerk the clothes, who pressed the tags up against the scanner. Jim fished out a few notes from his wallet, thanking the guy when he handed back his change. The clothes were folded into a bag, which Jim handed to Cassidy.

She accepted it with a grin, her claw grazing over his hand a little longer than it should have. He met her golden eyes and smiled back. “So, uhm… hungry?”

3

Despite the booming business, they found a booth without waiting all that long. Cassidy got stuck in right away, accumulating more plates than he could hope to match. Not that he minded – he knew a couple girls who ate barely anything all day and still worried about their weight, and Cassidy was a good contrast to that.

“My, this is amazing! Mmm!” She handled her chopsticks with surprising dexterity, given her claws. “Oh you must try this, Jim.”

He plucked the offered piece of pork and chewed, grinning when Cassidy didn’t even watch his reaction, just digging right back into her dish. Sitting beside her was the bag of clothes she’d picked out earlier, and upon seeing it, he couldn’t help but feel pleased with himself, having bought something for someone else for a change. There was just something about getting a girl a gift that made him feel a little nostalgic. And of course, eager, to see what she looked like in that swimsuit…

“Could you hand me that red one please?” The Garchomp settled her plate against her stack. “Jim?”

“Yeah. Uh, here. How’re you liking the valley so far?”

She nodded while inhaling her new dish, not that he really needed an answer to that, he just wanted to small-talk. They both ate quietly for a while, Jim going to speak when she was almost done eating.

“So, uhm, call me curious, but what got you into the whole theatre shebang?” he asked, twirling his chopsticks around idly. “You seem pretty into it, even though I haven’t seen you perform yet.”

“Your loss, Curious.” A grin played on her chops. “Bad joke. It’s been my hobby ever since I was little. I think it started back in grade four, I think? I never really suffered from stage-fright. That’s what made me stand out from my peers.”

“You ever think about becoming a full-on actress? Hollywood level?”

“It has crossed my mind, yes, though I’ve yet to receive my big break.” She eyed the passing train with a keen gaze. “A lot of the main leads from movies now come from modelling backgrounds, maybe I could branch out that way.”

“You’ve certainly got the thighs for it-” He realised he was speaking aloud and stuffed his face into his water, sputtering when he choked.

“What’s that, Jim?”

“Uhm, I said you’ve certainly got it all planned out! Excuse me.” He cleared his throat.

“Mm… Planned.” She looked away. “Not really. Truth is I just do it for fun. An acting career seems so far-fetched, especially when I say it out loud.”

“Not really,” he said. “Fun is good. And if you enjoy doing something, you can’t let anything get in the way of that.”

Cassidy eyed him suddenly. “You really think so?”

“Well, give me a second.” He tapped a finger to his chin, pondered. “Yep. I really think so.”

The Garchomp rewarded his little joke with a girlish titter. She lost that little droop in her gaze, which he liked. “What about you Jim? Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“Ah, well…” He shrugged. “I’m a pretty boring guy, to be honest.”

“I find that hard to believe, Jim the Poetic Critic. What about you and sports? Have you always been an athletic kind of guy?”

On the word athletic, her eyes had run down his arm before coming back to his face. All that brutal training by Mr. Bahril had finally given something back, although Jim wasn’t as fit as some of the mid-fielders. “I guess so, yeah. I used to always get picked last whenever we had sports class, back in primary.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yep. It sucks, let me tell you. One day I got fed up with it and asked my dad for some gym stuff, and one birthday I got a set of weights. Still have them today – they’re these tiny pink ones, about this big. Combine that and a bit of running round the block a few times a week, suddenly everyone’s picking me first cause I could run like the wind. One day I try out left wing, and it’s been my go-to position ever since.”

“And now all those sponsors are floating around universities, looking for the best. You must be excited.”

“There’s a bit of bias there, huh? You never hear anything about drama sponsorships.”

“Sports has always been more popular than theatre.” She huffed. “People like watching sweaty guys chase balls, don’t they? And lucky me, I get a front seat as your cheerleader!”

They shared a laugh at the absurd accuracy, Jim having never really thought of it in that light before. For a while they talked about school, but quickly they grew bored of the topic, having to think about it enough already while in campus.

“There’s still some places I’d like to show you, if you’re up for it.”

Cassidy agreed. When Jim went to pay the bill, Cassidy grabbed his hand before he could. “Oh, no no, you already bought me something tonight.”

“Cassidy…”

“Jim~” She surprised him by singing his name. “Look how much I had compared to you. It’s only fair.”

Her plate stack was a bit more than double his own. He frowned at the plates, then at her. The draconic sternness in her face told him she wouldn’t be as easy to convince this time. “Halves then,” he said. “Can’t get more fair than that.”

Although reluctant, she agreed, much to the pleasure of an impatient waiter. When they left the sushi-train, Jim found he didn’t need to offer his arm. He watched a clawed, warm hand slip past his waist automatically, the little bumps of her forearm scales rubbing pleasantly against his flesh.

Jim couldn’t help feeling proud, managing to keep this dragon entertained and laughing through the night. The added bonus of her being a foreigner around here meant there was always a sense of wonder with her even in the places he visited regularly. Even his nerves had taken a step back the more time he spent with her.

The night flew by, and at one point the Garchomp glanced at her phone. “It’s getting pretty late, Jim.”

He looked down at the screen. “Nine already? Alright, we’re not too far from the lounge. You got a ride?”

“Not at this hour. I’ll just walk, my place isn’t far. Have to work off that sushi, anyway.”

“Me too. So which way?”

Her golden eyes blinked at him. “Oh, that’s sweet of you, but it’s not necessary. Wont your parents be getting worried?”

“Worried schmorried. Come on, I know a quick way out of here.”

Cassidy could tell by now she couldn’t exactly dissuade Jim. So she directed him towards where she lived, once the valley’s lights were shining on their backs.

Jim presumed they’d head in the vague direction of where he lived, but after a few turns they were heading the opposite way. The suburbs here were quiet, almost eerily so compared to the volume of the valley. Fences had one or two boards missing, clothes were hung from wires strung up before porches, obstructing the view of the many wooden houses sat upon rotting supports around here.

Jim blinked when he remembered his father driving past here not that long ago.

The ghetto? he thought, looking at the dragon. But… the way she talks, I thought… huh.

She caught him looking and he quickly changed his expression to a happy one. Was this why she didn’t want him to walk her home? He found himself feeling guilty having bought her some expensive clothes, she might have gotten the wrong kind of message.

“Well, this is me,” Cassidy said, stopping before a house. The lights were on upstairs, illuminating a patchy tiled roof that sheltered a wooden porch. Beside the garage he got a bit of a look at the yard beyond. Apart from the patchwork grass it was too dark to see much else.

“Alright, feedback time.” He grinned. “How did I do? Pretty good right?”

“I had a lot of fun.” She chuckled when he made a victorious fist-pump. “This place seems a lot more interesting than I first thought.”

“We didn’t even scratch the surface of the valley,” he said. “there’s still the clubs, the beaches, the isles…”

“You already planning our second date?” She leaned on her hip.

He blinked. “Oh, uhm… that is, if you… just a thought…”

She laughed at his blabbering. “I was teasing again. You were so brimming with confidence not ten seconds ago. You should see your face.”

“P-Pretty girls always make me nervous,” he said sheepishly.

“And such a way with words! How could I say no?”

She pulled out her phone and they exchanged numbers. Jim breathed a sigh of relief seeing that line of numbers stored on his contacts. “Cool, uhm… Oh! I almost forgot! I got you something.”

“Another gift?” Although her tone was confused, she looked on with excitement as Jim reached behind him. At one point he’d excused himself to go to the bathroom, only to sneak off and buy something before returning.

“Yep. Here you go.” He offered her a little box decorated with a little red ribbon. Through the plastic top she could see the contents, her chops turned up in a smile.

“Ferrero Rocher?” He placed the box in her scaly palm, feeling proud at her reaction. “I haven’t had one in forever! How’d you know I like them?”

“I have my ways,” he said, waving an elusive hand.

“Mhm. A way of asking Kendra what my favourite things are.” She winked at him. Jim felt a blush on his face, having been caught out. He started mumbling out an apology.

“No, don’t apologise, silly, I’m just relieved you didn’t get me flowers or something like that.”

“Yeah, ha! Talk about boring, right? Haha!” He coughed into his hand, reminding himself to properly thank Kendra later. “Well, anyway, uh… I guess I’ll text you? Later?

“Okay,” she said, slightly turning on her heels, but not leaving just yet. In the following silence a part of him said that if there was any time to pounce, it was now.

He remembered the last time he’d gone in for a kiss on the first date. Bold, sure, and perhaps would have been the right move, but the memory of that time, and the results that followed after, gave him pause.

Thankfully his date made the move for him. Bending down slightly so her chin was level with his shoulder. Suddenly he found himself embraced by her strong, scaly arms wrapping over his back, and a pinching sensation on his waist as her leg thorns pressed up against him, along with the rest of the Garchomp’s body.

So warm, he thought, graciously returning the hug. It was like being embraced by a big, scaly blanket, one that smelled of soft spices. He felt a little disappointed when she pulled away, if only at the idea he could have met her lips with his if he hadn’t hesitated.

“Good night, Jim,” she said, pulling away, but not before leaning across his face. One of her golden eyes filled his vision, as she let her tongue drag across his cheek for one, blissful moment. She released him, then, one of her horns bumping into the side of his temple. “Sorry.”

“Ow. It’s okay,” he replied. “Good night.” He waved when Cassidy turned and walked over the driveway, shoes clipping against the stone path leading up to her porch, his gifts clutched in her hands. Jim could see a silhouette shaded against one of the front windows, spying the shape of horns sat upon a large draconic crown. Whether it was the mother or father he could not tell from here.

His hand tentatively went to his cheek, but he dared not touch it out of fear of disturbing the skin. Not as good as a kiss, but he’d take it.

“Not washing this side of my face again,” he said, floating off the ground as he made his way home.

4

The lights were on when Jim walked up the driveway, unlocking the front door with his key. Father was on the couch, watching some late-night program, teetering on the edge of sleep.

The young man leaned an arm on the other living room chair, frowning at a joke the co-caster made. Father noticed Jim’s presence and clicked the remote, the little volume bar on the screen going down a few blocks.

“Welcome back. How did you go?”

“Good. Very good.” His cheek was still tingling.

“Did you pounce?”

“Sure,” Jim said.

“Am I right to assume you have something planned next week?”

“I got her number, so yeah. Maybe the weekend.”

“Good. And if I might assume correctly again, and all goes well, I think now would be a good time to discuss other matters.”

Other matters? Jim thought.

His father noted his confusion. “I am of course talking about visiting arrangements. She is welcome here if you wish to invite her over for dinner. But dinner is all I will allow. I understand the growing hormones of young adults, but that’s not something I want to wake up to when I’m trying to catch some sleep. Smooches and spooning are the limit – and not while at the table, obviously.”

Jim’s face was redder than ketchup, and for the moment he was unable to form comprehensible sentences as he tried to silence his father.

“You may have more luck with her own home, though I imagine her parents are of the same opinion as mine. So it’s up to you to find out where and how to procreate without me around. If you somehow have the house to yourselves, I trust you’ll keep things confined to your room, and clean up when-“

“Okay, okay! Geez, dad, I get the picture!” Jim’s palms buried into his eyes.

“I’m just making sure I make myself clear.”

“Yes, crystal. Christ…”

Jim didn’t bother trying to linger, deciding to turn in for the night. Lying in bed, Jim flipped open his phone and opened Cassidy’s number, contemplating on a text he had in mind.

Too soon, my man, a voice told him. Eventually he decided the voice was right, and instead opted to look up more poems and commit them to memory. Surely one of them would give him an up in the world of wooing with words.

It wasn’t long before he collapsed from exhaustion, a little grin on his face as he slept, which was a first in a long time for the young man.

Chapter 4

Play Ball

1

By age-long tradition, a Monday morning arrival to campus was met with cold reluctance and tired loathing, but the grounds welcomed a few extra students this week, the air filled with bubbling conversation layered with excitement of all things, as the monotony of the learning weeks finally took a thrilling turn.

Jim almost wouldn’t have noticed the hanging eagerness had he not been riding high ever since his successful date. With some effort, he’d held back on sending a text, worried he might send her a typo, worried he might come off as a tad hasty, worried… in general, like he was playing the ultimate game of Jenga, and any rushed movements could cause ultimate calamity.

His finger brushed by the spot Cassidy had licked him that night. The pace he’d set was good enough, it seemed – the advice from his friends had helped, though he liked to imagine he deserved more credit for the execution.

Morning lectures came and went like blurry dreams, and Jim found a spot outside the cafeteria for a quick morning tea. Quick glances through the crowds brought him no results, not a single draconic woman in sight.

“Hey Jim-dog!” Isaac planted his caboose across from him. The metal table slapped loudly as a food tray came down, startling Jim.

“Sup,” Jim said. “How’s your weekend?”

“Finally got around to watching that Coraline movie. I’m gonna have nightmares for weeks, man.” Isaac looked up from his yogurt and blinked at him. “Hey, I almost forgot! You and the ‘ness! How did you do? Did you do her, eh?”

“It was the first date, dude. Dating’s a delicate dance, you’d know if you ever had one.”

“That’s just a fancy way of saying you chickened out.”

Jim’s expression dipped a little, his friend seemed to see right through his mask without even trying.

“At least tell me you kissed her goodnight.” Isaac returned to his yogurt.

“I don’t want to get into details.”

“Dude, I LIVE for details! So was there any contact? A little show of the leg, maybe? Rubbing of the knee? I’ll take a goddamn hand-holding if I have to.”

“I did lead her by the arm. You know, like this.” He demonstrated.

Isaac couldn’t be more stunned even if he’d been struck by lightning. “Oh my god, that’s so old fashioned, dude! What are you going to do next, invite her to the grand ball?”

“It worked, what else can I say?”

“Yeah yeah, arm holding is good. What then?”

“Then nothing. I got her gifts, stuff she liked.”

“Looking good. Go on.”

“We had some dinner. Sushi.”

“What place?”

“The train at the valley square?”

“What did she have? Tuna?”

“Mostly pork. We talked, walked around for a bit after that. Then I took her home.”

Isaac slapped the table, eliciting a few looks from nearby students. “Slap my ass with a spoon, you what? What happened to that shit about delicacy?“

“Sorry her home, I meant.”

“And she didn’t invite you in? Dayum, man, I feel for you. All that money spent and not even a quickie?”

Jim thought it best not to mention she lived in the fairly poor part of town. He felt guilty enough on the inside, and if anyone could interpret something incorrectly, make things worse, it was the man before him.

“We traded numbers, though,” Jim continued. Isaac swallowed a spoonful of his yogurt.

“Guess not all is lost, then. You didn’t call her or anything did you?” Isaac stared. “Jimmy?”

He shook his head no. “Thank Christ for that. Take my advice, wait for her to text first. Feign some disinterest, girls dig that shit.”

Jimmy humored his friend and said that he would – at least on the texting part. For a time they talked about school and other things, the subject of Friday’s training he’d skipped out on eventually coming up. “How did coach react?” Jim asked.

Isaac took a bite of his sandwich and chewed as he answered. “Not sho’ bad. He ashked abou’ chew and I shed you were shick. Got thish weird look about him, then… tha’ wash it!”

“Yeah? No questions? No search parties?”

“No shir!”

Jim didn’t like it. Well, he did like it, the response by his coach the perfect outcome, but on the other hand… It was a little too good to be true. According to his friend he didn’t miss out on much besides more drills and formation training. Jim knew it all like the back of his hand, but he doubted Mr. Bahril would see it that way.

His friend inhaled the rest of his meal. “You’ll find out if you got away with it soon enough, Jimmy-my-man. Today’s the last sesh’ before the game. Who’re we up against again?”

“Strikers, I think.”

“Those pussies? Should be a fucking cake-walk, huh? You and me Jimbo, we’ll be rolling in sponsorships before you can say ‘game on’. I got a feeling.”

“Here’s hoping you’re right.” Jim downed the rest of his juice and crumpled the plastic box. He got up. “Come on, break time’s over.”

The rest of his day was taken up by the most mundane lectures to date, the only reason he didn’t fall asleep because of the ever-looming risk of failure. He’d meant to get cracking on his assignments over the weekend, but had barely started them, and seeing some of his fellow students already tens of pages into their reports put him in a foul mood.

A mood that only soured when he sneaked a look at his phone, and seeing his message box empty. Sure, it was only an excuse to distract him from his work, but it would have been nice either way.

Now I’m getting the silent treatment from my derg – could this day get any worse?

“Please check your inboxes for the details on our next report due on the first week of June,” his next lecturer Professor Hode said.

… I deserved that.

Usually he had training to look forward to after a long day of sitting down and typing, but instead he was anxious of the approaching afternoon. The professors didn’t much care for absent students, and Jim never felt bad if he missed out on one or two, but unlike Mathematics or English or any other theoretical study, he held a passion for the freedom he felt in the field. Wind in his hair, the rubber bumps of the ball in his hands, the sound the ball made on a really good punt…

He didn’t want to fuck it up. Couldn’t. It was why on the way down to the oval he promised himself he’d not skip out on another session again, Cassidy or otherwise. Easier said than done, as the saying goes, but he’d try to do his best.

The boy’s locker room was alive with chatter when Jim arrived, pulling out his key and fiddling with the lock. Jim grinned as he listened to the usual trash spoken in this place – booze and pussy being prime subjects, probably because neither could be found in a hundred-mile radius from here.

Just as Jim thought he might get through this afternoon without too many questions, Matty sidled up next to him, hip bopping as he leaned on one casual arm. “Jimmy, glad you could join us! So how was your Friday afternoon, eh? Eh?”

His friend had pursed his lips and angled his head in a clearly knowing expression, as if daring him to try and lie to his face. Over Matty’s shoulder Jim stared daggers at a certain member of the team.

“You told him?” Jim said.

Isaac offered a cocky shrug. “What can I say? When there’s Poké-puss involved, I just can’t keep my mouth shut.”

A couple of guys in the background whooped their support. Jim let the team have their moment ribbing him before giving one back. “At least one of us doesn’t have to imagine getting laid.”

There were a few retorts at that, excuses, a few your mom jokes thrown into the mix, and then the piercing sound of a whistle interrupted all, Mr. Bahril shouting right outside the door. “Hustle up, boys! Time’s a wastin!”

Mr. Bahril had in-game scenarios for the team to practice, interspersed by brutal sprints around the oval, regardless of who performed better or not. It was during one of these not-so relaxing interludes that the dreaded moment came bearing down.

“Two laps, boys! In three minutes or you’re dead to me! Except you, Jim, hold a second.”

Jim sighed in both exhaustion and apprehension. The rest of the guys kicked mud up behind him as they began their run, a few snarky comments thrown about as they gained distance.

Jim stopped himself from shaking his head and turned to Mr. Bahril, head angling down a bit at the short coach. “Yeah?”

“First game is in a few days,” the older man said.

“I know.”

“Do you?” The man faked shock. “Because last training day, a certain SOMEONE, failed to show! And as far as my memory serves, this particular left wing hadn’t ever let man-flu get in the way of his duty!”

Jim shrugged. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Don’t try and weasel you’re way out of– Wait, what did you say?” Jim repeated himself, coach answering with a blink. “You’re… not even gonna try and excuse yourself? Make something up?”

He answered with a shake of his head. “It was a personal thing, coach. Won’t happen again.”

Mr. Bahril opened his mouth, closed it, paused, then spoke. “I had a whole reprimand planned for the lies I thought you’d throw at me, but not this.” Over his shoulder Jim could see his team running on the other side of the field. “Fine, I trust this ‘matter’ was important enough to miss out on a critical session. The team needs you, Jim, never forget that. Our whole strategy this season relies on the left side, and you’re the anchor.”

Jim knew this well enough already, but thought it best to let the man finish.

“But don’t let that make you feel comfortable. There are players out there far worse off than others, and they can still make easy points.”

Jim raised a confused eyebrow. No one had ever gone a day being a Mythic without being threatened by the coach, but something about this one struck a chord with Jim. Jim wasn’t blind to the fact he was more… financially stable than average, his dad’s business doing consistently well, but Mr. Bahril’s knowledge of this was startling to say the least.

There was little time to baffle over it, however, when the Mythics ran by at that moment, starting their second lap. Coach waved him on that he should join them, and Jim fell into a run with the group, not looking back.

“What happened, Jim-dog?” Isaac asked with a quick shoulder-check. “He give ya a good grilling?”

“Sure did,” Jim said, brow scrunched in confusion.

“Well look on the bright side, you only have to run one lap!”

Another forty-five minutes of sweat-riddled drills and exercises later, and training drew to a thankful close. As the dejected group of exhausted boys made their way to the change rooms, Mr. Bahril addressed them with a shout. “Listen up everyone! Next time we see each other here we’ll be playing for real. I want you all inside at eleven-thirty on the DOT. Until then, get some rest boys. You’ll need it.”

The Mythics rushed inside after being dismissed, quick to find themselves a shower and eager to end the day. With a heavy set of tired limbs, Jim said his farewells to his friends and made off for the library. With a bit of spare time this afternoon he thought he’d try and play catch up with his ever-growing list of reports and assignments.

He picked a quiet spot in the corner and booted up the computer. He opened up a text document, then flipped his bag open to fetch his books. His joints ached and seized up as they always did after a long session of moving, followed by sitting still in a chair. The keys clicked away quietly as he drew up a page of notes.

Even watching the little vertical line blink away was enough to add onto his fatigue. He sat back with a sigh, wondering if going home hadn’t been a better option.

Just when he was beginning to die from boredom, his phone buzzed against his thigh. Pulling it from his pocket, he flipped the case open and navigated to the message box, preemptively sighing at what his father might have sent, as there weren’t many others these days who bothered messaging him.

Halfway through his sigh, the exhale turned into a gasp when he saw who the text was from, the sound not unlike something off a zombie movie. He read the text twice over just to be sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Hey Jim! Sry I missed u I got home early 2day and been supr bz unpacking. How r u?

The contact he’d put in as Cass hovered over the message like a shining beacon of pixeled hope. “Yes!” he said, all of today’s worries flushed away like bad dreams, earning a few stairs from a couple nearby students.

Okay let’s think about this, he thought, thumbing the numpad to write up a response. Do I ask her out again? Like this? Nah that’s lame. Maybe I could just call her? No, no too soon, plus I’m in a library. Should I ask her how she got a Monday off? Offer to come help unpack, perhaps?

Many minutes passed by as he raked his brain over what to say. He didn’t want to send a whole paragraph of an answer, that would just be creepy, not to mention how long it would take, what with hitting the 7 key four times just to get to the letter S. He wished there was some sort of quick-typing thing they’d invent, or a way to print out a word without putting every single letter down.

After many drafts, some of which he typed out on his computer to proof-read, he looked down at his final response with a critical expression, wondering if it was a tad too long. Printed there on the tiny screen was this:

Im good. Hows rehearsals?

Confident, he changed the full-stop to an exclamation point, hoping to match her own text’s energy, and hit the send button without thinking about it for too long, otherwise he’d never send anything. He waited patiently for a few minutes until his phone buzzed again.

Gr8! Didnt c u there 2day tho?

Bz with homewrk and training agn. What tim is the play?

11 will u b there?

That didn’t exactly give him the biggest time window, considering it was on the same day as the seasons opening game. He’d been foolish to think their times wouldn’t collide, because life was just a plain old bitch sometimes.

Wouldnt miss it, he sent back, though his fingers shook ever so slightly upon hitting send, the corner of his lip pulling down, like a child who knows he’s done wrong. A little voice asked him if could juggle sport and theatre forever.

His answer was a thunk of wood as his forehead fell onto the desk before him. When he eventually built up the will to look up, he saw he’d partly hit the keyboard with his face and there were long strings of v’s and m’s taking up half the page. The sight enraged him the more he stared at it.

Jesus Mary wept, as some would say. He sighed, flipping open his book to reread some of today’s notes.

2

“Jesus Mary wept.”

They say art cannot be rushed, but what exactly did ‘they’ say when one is given seven days (six, technically), to come up with a script that all your hopes and dreams rested upon? Did they cut you some slack? How come they were always there to point out your flaws but never once agreed to compromise?

Of course, it was not lost on her that she considered herself a considerable part of they, for she was the biggest hater of works written by her own hand. Thank God there was no shortage of others to direct her resentment to, else it would turn inward, to herself, then Jesus and Mary really would have reason to weep.

Blending the chosen themes into a story was as simple as pie, her work desk a mess of discarded paper sheets, both folded and scrunched, some related to the play, some not. She’d always fancied herself a creator, an excuse to liven up an otherwise dreary existence, bring some colour to a grey world. She fancied herself an accomplished individual in that regard, but it seemed her creative hand had tensed up for this particular moment of import, the one that actually mattered beyond stupid love stories and snippets of poems, most involving her favourite original character – a young Quilava (not herself, her name was Ardnek).

It appeared that she was a hack when faced with a task that went beyond simple, selfish recognition. She’d not slept in days, her natural strength as a fire Type the only thing keeping her stamina afloat. Hours upon hours of handwriting resulted in a cramped wrist, a bin overflowing with failed drafts, a hole in the wall as the result of her balled fist, and a handful of rehearsals that clearly reflected the lack of time allotted.

“I thought it was quite decent.”

This little voice of positivity had come from Bernard, who had himself been involved in the opening act with a performance she deemed average, if only because he hadn’t stuttered a single time, unlike the others on stage, though being his size one could hardly believe otherwise.

She answered his sheepish grin with a scowl. “Fuck off, Bernard.”

Even though twice her size, the big Pokémon voiced a disappointed “Aww,” –before making himself scarce. Nobody else tried to take a light spin on their current situation, and for good reason (aside from angering an already fuming Tyhplosion).

The principal had arrived fifteen minutes early to the performance, Kendra having her club sweep the hall clean of dust and dead insects to make it at least a little presentable. Hastily had she chucked her infested dustpan to a squeamish Jasmine, who had been complaining about her dirty ribbons for ten minutes straight, before going to unlock the hall doors.

“Principal, sir!” Kendra greeted, smiling as foreign to her as telling truths was to a politician. Her keen vision even picked up on a very slight recoil from Mr. Clarke. “It’s a little early yet.”

“Thought we might save ourselves the best seats.” Even though his grin was honest, she couldn’t help but take it as an insult – as with most things.

“‘We’, sir?”

“You didn’t think I’d spectate all on my own, did you? I’ve brought along some of my staff.”

He gestured behind him, and Kendra looked on with eyes bulging from their sockets, four, five, six professors walking down the path, a certain Professor Felix bringing up the rear of the group, the one who played a key part of her cover story she and Jim had made up.

“Jesus Mary…” Kendra mumbled.

“What was that, Miss Ayers?”

“Um, merry. It makes me merry to see so many interested.”

“Yes, well, most of the students are down on the oval for the season’s first game, so some of us have got time to spare.”

Again she picked up on that tone, that her club was very much an afterthought, or a background prop in a set piece of the male world. It was tricky to tell if he was being condescending or not, but then again despite her inner loathing of the situation, the principal had encouraged this whole idea in the first place.

“Ah… then please, come in! Come in! Cassidy get some more chairs out please!” she called out as she held the door open, greeting each professor as they entered. When it came to Miss Felix’s turn, the older woman came to a halt, regarding her with an impatient tapping of the foot. Like most staff involved in the arts, she was clad in a long black gown adorned with an obscene number of necklaces and jewelry studs, her arms clad in half a dozen bangles on each limb, her face flanked with earrings with loops big enough to fit a fist through each one.

“Well well well, Kendra, you’ve certainly been busy.” She wagged a finger, keyrings and chains tinkling like she was one giant wind chime. “When Mr. Clarke told me you were leading a club I was more than surprised, given I’m the head of this whole department.”

The Typhlosion cleared her throat after an awkward silence. “Ahem, forgive me Miss. It’s… complicated.”

Miss Felix’s mouth curled at the corners. “I played along as best I could, though you could have sent me a heads-up beforehand.” She moved inside, Kendra closing the door behind her. “We’ll speak afterward about this little… development. I’m as curious as the rest of the staff as to what you’ve come up with.”

Kendra thanked the heavens Miss Felix was one of those rare, easy-going professors and hadn’t spilled the beans to the principal. She doubted these lucky miracles would save her bacon forever, given that forever was now over, and the time for action had come.

The reaction from the other club members was about what one would expect. It was like the staff were aliens landing on earth and the club were the first fortunate ones to greet them. It was bad enough they were to perform in front of the principal, but from several staff members as well?

After organizing the seating arrangements, she rallied the club backstage, doing her best to calm the nerves of her friends. “Everyone, listen to me… Hello?” The club was like a gathering of chickens on route to the slaughterhouse. “Everyone SHUT UP!” she cried, and that got their attention. “Thank you! I know this wasn’t what we were expecting, but now is not the time to panic.”

“Half our lecturers are out there!” a hyperventilating Tira complained. “We’re doooomed!”

“We are not doomed,” Kendra growled. “Get yourselves together, all of you! If you put this much emotion onto the stage we can walk out of here with our heads held high. I’ve seen you all perfect your lines, I’ve seen you perform live, just because you’re to act before teachers doesn’t make a difference.”

“Sure it does!” Louis, an Absol countered, flicking his long white hair from his face. “Jim and his friends were friendly faces. Speaking of, where is he?”

Damn near everyone else joined in the query, making Kendra drag a palm across her cheek. This was exactly what she hoped to avoid – most of their number had come to over rely on the human, and what exactly would they do should he be indisposed, like today?

“He’s busy today with that… that game.” Kendra snarled the last word out. “But listen to me. Remember how you all first reacted when you performed before Jim? Why, Tira, you were literally shocking everyone in a ten-foot radius around you! You sent Bernard flying across the room as soon as you heard the news.”

Both Tira and Bernard shared a glance, before small smiles crept over their faces at the memory. “Now, let’s consider this our next challenge!” Kendra said, raising a fist and slapping it into her palm. “This is merely a hurdle on our road to glory. I’d rather see us go out in one last great performance than exit stage left whimpering, don’t you? When we made this club, was this what we had in mind? Shunning the idea of performing?“

“Of course not! So let’s get out there and show them that we’re not just a waste of space, show them what talent really is!”

Her pep talk did encourage a good flip in the club’s general mood, so Kendra whisked them onto stage before anyone could start second guessing. She positioned Bernard on the left-hand curtains, Cassidy the right. Since the pull ropes had long been eaten away by moths, they had to pry apart the stage curtains manually.

The Typhlosion slipped through the drapes after a few hushed words to her cohorts, flipping her hard expression to one of merriment when the crowd of campus staff watched her expectantly.

“Ladies and Gentleman,” she began. “It’s my pleasure to present to you our very first performance: Mia.“

Kendra’s expression desperately conveyed the message please clap, which was thankfully heeded by Miss Felix, who began the polite applause. With a fancy bow Kendra gestured, and after a quick slap to where she knew Bernard to be, the curtains parted noisily.

The main character, Mia – played by Amelia – was to get involved in a love-triangle with an old friend and new friend, and the play would begin with her meeting the new love interest, a soldier played by Caius. Nothing special about a triangle, of course, but it did suit the theme of how she would juggle to keep the two males unaware of the other.

They delivered their lines in earnest, each sentence rhyming with its pair. Plays with more culture were spoken in rhyme, but as the act went on, and the audience remained impassive, she started to think if that was a good idea at all.

Caius, the rogue soldier, opened with some light flirtation, but the presence of the staff deterred him, such talk normally reserved many miles away from teachers. His recital fluttered a little towards the end – the beginning of a long, long descent, as Amelia started fumbling over her lines soon after.

She did deliver one good joke Kendra had written, one that involved Margaret Thatcher, and that actually got one of the staff to snort. She didn’t know which it was, only that it wasn’t the principal, the one she had to please, but at least it was something.

Amelia, however, took the snort the wrong way, and her next couple lines were layered with her slowly surfacing nerves. It was infectious. Caius started to deliver his lines incorrectly, and by the time the third member of the love triangle was introduced – along with a few side-character introductions like Bernard and Louis – many of the jokes were falling flat under blatantly poor deliveries.

This was the reason why she’d so rudely dismissed Bernard’s attempt at optimism after the act finished. She watched the club set the next scene with a nail firmly chewed between her teeth.

“I need you to pull through in the second act, Cass,” Kendra told her friend, eye twitching when she looked down and saw her nail angled weirdly down the middle.

“I’ll try my best,” the Garchomp replied. She was much more easier going than Kendra, but even she looked doubtful.

“Try isn’t good enough, and I’m starting to think best won’t be either. We’ll need a goddamn miracle if we want a chance of pulling this off.”

Just then she heard a door open, and her neck-flames stood on end. If that was more professors then this whole thing was done. The club could handle performing before friends and other students, but staff was a whole other matter.

She peaked her head through the breach in the curtains, eyes first drawing over the principal and his entourage, talking amongst themselves through the interluding silence, then towards the entrance. Initially she grew alarmed, seeing maybe ten more people coming inside. Were there even that many professors at the campus? Maybe it was the groundskeeper team or the other faculties brushed off to the sidelines, come to see what the ruckus was about.

But then she recognised the one at the front, and her demeaner had a hard time deciding whether to heat up or cool down. “Ah, here’s Sir Knobin and his band of merry men.”

Cassidy’s head appeared above her own between the drapes, her expression a little warmer towards the approaching boys. Jim and his companions were all dressed identically in purple jerseys and black shorts, each one sporting a different number printed on the left breast. Jim’s spiked shoes rolled noisily over the wood as he gave the principal a wave, blinking when he saw the number of lecturers present.

“Mr. Beam?” Principal Clarke said, looking from Jim to his friends. “Shouldn’t you all be down on the oval?”

“Oval schmoval, we got loads of time,” Jim said, much in the same way one would excuse working on an assignment until the due date. “I see we’re not the only theatre fans.”

“My staff had some free time available.”

Jim made a disgusted sound, like he’d just seen a fly land in a bowl of hot soup he was about to eat. He turned to his team waiting behind him. “Alrighty boys sit tight, I’ll go check up on the guys and gals.”

“This is gay,” one of the Mythics Kendra didn’t know said. The one she knew as Isaac hit the man on the shoulder.

“So are you, but you don’t hear us complaining!”

The Typhlosion gave the Mythics the evil-eye, throwing herself behind the curtains with an angry flurry. The stage shook slightly as bootheels approached, everyone else gone still upon hearing the voices beyond.

“Sup guys?” Jim greeted, a few small hello’s made as he passed some of the club members. He smiled when he came to Kendra and Cassidy. “Hey Kendra, Cass.” He smiled shyly when he met the dragoness’ eyes.

Kendra made a face at the adolescent, sexual tension that no doubt brewed between the two. “And just where have you been?” the Typhlosion asked. “We started a half hour ago!”

“Hey! Convincing half the team to come down here wasn’t easy,” Jim defended. “Getting the other half to come up with a decent cover story was even harder. So how’s the play going?”

“Terribly!” Kendra replied, earning a few looks from the others. Her father was right, she really could be as blunt as a hammer sometimes. “The deliverance is poor, our stage presence is nonexistent, and principal hasn’t so much as given us a tee-fucking-hee!”

Jim flinched with each point made, opening his hands in a shrug. “At least he hasn’t walked out,” he tried.

Steam started wisping from the top of Kendra’s head, Cassidy politely stepping between the two as if things were about to escalate. “I think,” Cassidy said. “what Kendra’s trying to say, is that she appreciates you coming, Jim. Even with the game right around the corner, you still took some time to help us, and we respect that, right?“

The Typhlosion matched the dragoness’ eyes and took the hint, taking a deep breath. “… Yes,” was all she could manage.

“It was nothing,” Jim said. “actually that’s a lie. It wasn’t free, they asked for some phone numbers in return. A couple for Jasmine, and Tira, and even one for you, Kendra.”

Kendra threw up a little in her mouth, her cheeks bulging comically. “I wouldn’t date any one of those Kumquat-heads if they were the last males on the planet! Bleugh!“

Jim went to say something, when a gentle, but assertive voice called out: “How long exactly does this interlude go for?” Kendra thanked the stars that it wasn’t a professor but just one of the sports jocks who’d spoken.

“Positions, everyone!” Kendra called, kindly putting a hand on Jim’s shoulder and ushering him away. “Backstage is for performers only, Jim.”

“Good luck Cass!” Jim called, the dragon returning his wave with a grin. “Good luck everyone, you’ll need it if you don’t want the principal to bulldoze the whole buil- mmf!“

His speech was cut off when Kendra squeezed her claws over his lips, eyes bugging at the sudden lack of oxygen. Amelia, who was the closest, gestured at him. “What was that about bulldozers?”

“Oh, haha, nothing, he was just fooling around!” Kendra answered for him, escorting him away. Once safely out of earshot, she released him. “You idiot, I haven’t told them about that yet! Things are bad enough without you blurting out crap like that.”

“I forgot,” he answered, the Pokémon clearly not believing him.

“Look, I… admire, you and your friends support, let me just make that clear. But we need to concentrate, so no interruptions, alright? This is serious.”

“We’ll behave, relax.”

Even though the real reason why his friends (and by extent himself) were here, was because they wanted Jim to get laid, and would do anything they could to help achieve that goal, the young man took it upon himself to play the humble hero, bask in the slight praise the Typhlosion clearly showed to very few.

He let the Pokémon return to her club, finding a spot to plant his rump along with the professors and the Mythics. Jim didn’t need to be told the number of teachers here had been a rather unwelcome surprise to Kendra and the other actors.

Miss Felix quickly explained to the boys what had happened in Act I, bringing them up to speed before the curtains parted, revealing Mia and her council of friends played by a couple of members who’d been sidelined into extra roles.

Jim grinned as he watched, feeling almost proud by how much some of them had improved, especially Amelia to be put in the spotlight for so long. The tall Lapras returned his grin when she met his eyes, before bringing her attention back to the play and reciting her lines.

Jim couldn’t understand the problem beyond a little stage fright. Even his team seemed to enjoy it, likely because aside from the constant rhyming, there was no amount of poetry to be heard. The Mythics particularly enjoyed this one part where Mia was out having dinner with both her love interests, in the same restaurant, on the same night, having to constantly make up new excuses to see to the other, while keeping them ignorant of each other. He even saw a few of the professors join in on the moments of laughter.

Then it hit him. He wasn’t a psychological expert by any means, but even he knew humans were very subconsciously influenced by things around them. Like how yawning was contagious even from across a room, or how a laugh track could make even the worst sitcom somewhat entertaining.

Not to say the play was bad, but the more Jim and his friends enjoyed the theatrics, the professors seemed too as well. It was like the Mythics were hired crowd warmers. It made Jim feel a little guilty, like he was pampering the club into undeserved praise, but a club this desperate couldn’t be choosy, right?

Jim checked the time when the scene closed. The game was barely a quarter of an hour away, and he had yet to see Cassidy on stage. He’d been hoping a quick stay would allow him to finally see her in action even just for a minute, but the clock was ticking. I hate time, he thought.

The next scene rolled on, and Mia was caught in a moment of self-reflection, wishing she had someone to approach and ask for advice on how to choose her true love. Thankfully in a show of true convenience, she’d been in a bar at the time, and the establishment’s owner, one of the few humans of the club, a girl called Madeline, announced to the patrons the plot device for the act:

“Attention everyone! Please welcome tonight’s shining star, the beloved Lady Caterina!”

“Check it, dude.” Isaac gave Jim a nudge.

Caterina’s hammer-head-like face tilted in a bow as she entered from stage right. Jim’s eyes lit up like moons when his wish was granted, Cassidy – or Caterina if one wanted to roleplay – giving him a very quick, sly look as she took a seat near the center of the stage, pulling something out from behind her. It was a long, wooden thing with a thin neck and strings running from the head to the bulbous end, the cords tapered by little screws which Cassidy gave a few experimental plucks with her long nails.

It wasn’t a guitar; it was too small. A lute maybe? It could have been a banjo for all Jim knew about instruments. One scaly leg flexed over the other as she got comfortable, an eager silence falling over the hall, interrupted only by small shuffles of fabric as the crowd gained a sudden boost in interest.

Cassidy’s small grin went in Jim’s direction, but he was too enamored to offer nothing more than a surprised blink. She eased a single, soft note as she plucked at her instrument, her voice piercing the room like a silken wish as it formed into words.

Light upon the ocean

Casts away the dark

Where impurity and wickedness

Hides within us all

A cloudy veil, these thoughts have brought

The haze through which I weep

Temper your heart and look

Your answer lies beneath

Our souls, born from gentle stars

Will never go astray

Listen then, take heed and call

For love is as blinding as

Light upon the ocean

She repeated the verse once more, and then fell silent with one last note from her instrument, the hall filled with placid silence for a time.

Then Jim rose to his feet, and brought his hands together, an unbelieving expression on his face. The applause spread to the Mythics, who were transfixed throughout, even the ones like Matty who were sat towards the back, uninterested so far in the performance, raised their hands to their lips and whistled.

The teachers soon joined in, even Principal Clarke, who looked especially moved. Amelia, after waiting patiently for an ounce of silence, stood up from her seat nearby. “Listen to my soul, of course, how foolish I’ve been! How obvious it is, how I truly feel within!”

With the revelation announced, the act came to a close, the drapes obscuring Cassidy as she gave a farewell bow. Jim wanted to go up there and find her, but before he could a hand fell upon his shoulder.

“Jim.” It was Gavin, his polite concern a contrast to the general excitement surrounding them. “I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but unless we want to skip the start of the season, we have to go now.“

“Shit,” Jim said, seeing the time on Gavin’s presented phone. “Alright alright, you go ahead, I’ve got to do something.”

While the captain calmed the team down and brought them back to reality, Jim pushed his way backstage, seeing Kendra standing right where she’d unceremoniously excused him earlier. Even she was beaming with enthusiasm, whether at Cassidy or the audience’s reaction, it was hard to tell. Maybe both.

“Hey, Kendra, talk about saving the best for last. Dayum,” he said, watching with her as Cassidy moved onto the other side of the stage.

“Indeed. We might yet have a chance after all.” She turned and frowned, seeing his team shuffling out the exit. “Where are they going?”

“We’ve gotta go if we wanna make it to the game on time.”

“Very well then.” He expected her to argue but she didn’t add anything more. Jim fidgeted on the spot as he saw Cassidy slowly disappear behind the other actors, looking back over his shoulder at his departing friends. It looked like he was trying to go both directions at once.

Kendra noticed his apprehension and grinned. “She’ll be here, Jim. Go do your thing, we’ll do ours.”

“You’ll be okay with just the teachers?”

“Yes, yes, go. And good luck, Jim.”

He cast one look at his draconic friend, before turning away. “You too,” he said, shaking his head as he chased after the Mythics. So much he wanted to say to her, so little time.

He snapped out of it and tried to focus. He fell in behind the speed-walking team, and they marched like soldiers down to the playing field.

3

To say Mr. Bahril was upset would be an understatement, though the punishment would have been a lot worse had Jim been alone in his poetic endeavor. As the Mythic’s marched into the training room, the coach stood off to one side and screamed into each boy’s ear respectively as they passed.

Once the threats were over with, a whiteboard was pulled out of the corner, Mr. Bahril addressing the ‘pack of degenerates’ as he called them, with a blue marker. He went over a few pre-game strategies, making sure everyone knew their roles in this season’s new strategy.

Jim wasn’t expecting much resistance today. Last year, the Strikers had come second-last overall, though he guessed they’d try their hearts out what with these government sponsors lurking around. Unless said sponsors dressed in flashy suits and wore nametags, it would be hard to tell if any were here today, watching.

An air horn sounded off in the distance, and the coach threw the marker over his shoulder. “That’s our cue boys – get out there and fry their bacon!”

In single file did they jog out towards the field-exit, leaving the dim interior fluorescents to bask in the bright, overhanging sunshine. Paired with this abrupt brightness came the roar of a crowd – students, staff and family alike gathered in and around the stands – many having been forced to sit among the outlying fields underneath umbrellas jammed into the grass. The campus welcomed the public on big events like today, and the crowd was more than modest for the season opening.

The Mythics waved and jogged as they moved onto the field, two sets of goal posts on the left and right marking the field’s try lines. A couple of teachers held aloft a banner with the campus’ name stretched across the linen, which Gavin – at the front of the team – promptly ripped a hole into with a quick headbutt, the rest of the Mythics following in his example.

Flanking the banner in two small groups, the cheerleaders danced away, pompoms flashing and skirts rippling like storms of pink cloth. Jim noted the lack of a certain Garchomp member, the group on the left consisting of an odd number.

The rest of the Mythics passed beneath the banner to center field, where a referee, and another equally large group of boys waited. They were dressed in gold and black; the Strikers having jogged on minutes earlier.

Gavin and the Striker’s own captain chose their side of the coin toss, which the referee, a rather pudgy man with light blond hair, threw up high. The Strikers won the toss, making the Mythics the one’s to kick off first.

“It’s settled gentlemen,” Gavin said, the team hustling up around him. Each boy clumsily put their hand on top of his own to form a hand-stack. “You boys ready? One, two, three…”

“MYTHICS!” the team shouted in unison, splitting off and heading to their positions. Jim segregating himself from the pack to head to the left sideline. He cricked his neck and rolled his shoulders, seeing his Striker counterpart about forty meters across from him.

Isaac gave himself a run up to the ball, which sat upon a tee. He waited for the air horn, and when it came, loud and blaring, he punted the ball with a solid thwack~! and the game began, the crowd hollering and cheering when the ball came to rest in a Striker’s hands.

Jim moved up with the line, as Matty speared the ball-carrier along with another Mythic. With each tackle the Strikers gained about half a dozen or so meters, until it was time for them to kick. The pass was predictable, however, and Isaac rushed the designated punter and speared him to the dirt, scoring an easy change over near the halfway line. Jim admitted that on-field, Isaac wasn’t one to mess about.

The centers kept up the aggression, crashing into the Striker defence like waves against a bank. They got about fifteen meters away from the try line, with no tackles left. Somewhere in the background noise an angry Mr. Bahril screamed that they remember their training.

Gavin took the lead, passing the ball left to Matty, who passed it on to his left, to Francis, the big guy going half-down in a tackle before releasing the ball. Closer and closer the ball came to the left side, until it came to rest in the palms of Joshua, the partner of the left-wing. The man feigned passing it to Jim, fooling his attackers into shuffling towards the wingman. They left a clear opening, and the first try of the game was scored.

The crowd roared with approval, for the visiting team was clearly lacking in support on the campus. High fives and ass-slaps were exchanged as the Mythics got back into position for a reset.

The two teams battled it out over possession, neither one scoring an advantage over the other apart from a few close calls. One such time happened right before Jim, who found himself defending alone against two attackers, the defence having been dummied away. The one with the ball dived valiantly to Jim’s left, who just manage to reach out and seize his foot, sending both boys flailing over the sideline.

“No try!” the referee called, blowing through his whistle. Jim hadn’t noticed the ball had come down to the ground at the last moment.

The teams collided in rough, sweat-riddled scrums, halftime only a few minutes away. Someone on the right-wing must have started slacking, as Jim watched on helplessly from across the field as their defence slowly backpedaled. His hands flew up to his face when a Striker came down over the try line, ball in hand.

Many a frustrated fan cursed and groaned, the stands filled with audible disappointment as the scores evened out. And yet, as the horn sounding half-time rang out, the hundreds of fans didn’t even come close to comparing with the coach.

“You stupid wankstain Kevin!” Bahril chucked a water bottle at the culprit, who Jim presumed had let the enemy score. Kevin barely managed to stop the deadly container’s journey to his face. “Talk about clutching defeat from the jaws of victory! I’ve been coaching for ninety-five years and I’ve never seen such a terrible play!”

Not many other teachers had the guts (or reason) to actively insult a student, Jim and a few others having to bite their fists to stifle their giggles. “And where was Jim’s support at the twenty-meter mark? Francis big boy you’ve GOT to shuffle over when they’re moving left! Jim can’t handle two guys at once!”

“Maybe not on the field, but otherwise…” Isaac snickered. Mr. Bahril told him to shut the hell up and he did.

The verbal slap on the wrist went on throughout the break, Jim biting into a slice of orange offered to him by the waterboy. The sour taste of citrus painted the roof of his mouth as he chewed, listening to coach ramble on about a new tactic he wanted them to try, in hopes of winning the game back.

When the break was over, Jim tossed the fruit away, the team heading back into position, the Strikers switching sides with the Mythics. Even in the breathable jersey Jim felt his skin slick with sweat as the Strikers gave it all they had, putting to rest Jim’s earlier hopes the game would be a push-over.

The Mythics were put on the back-foot more than was comfortable, the defence barely keeping the Strikers thirty meters out. The ball was kicked high into the left center, and by the way Isaac oriented to catch it, Jim knew now was the time to put all that training to the test. The centers barreled into the line, gaining precious meters at a time.

Usually teams waited until the last tackle before a kick, but the Mythics pulled a cheeky fast one, Isaac punting the ball off to the left on the third tackle, well behind the defence, forcing them to crane their heads back and turn tail. Francis, adjacent to where it would land, gave it all he had, knocking aside a defender with the shove of a big, muscled arm.

He caught the ball, but was quickly set upon by three Strikers, and just before he could be brought down, he flicked the ball back and away with barely any finesse, where it soared directly on course to the Striker wingman. The man stood and raised his hands, waiting for the ball to come to him.

But it never did. Like an Olympian gymnast, Jim came flying in from the side, airborne as he caught the ball and clung it to his chest. People in the stands stood and roared as Jim slipped right through the defence.

The try line looked so impossibly far away, Jim’s sore legs pumping as hard as he could make them to try and close that great distance. The thumping of boots right on his heels made him feel like he was in one of his nightmares where he was chased by some dark monster.

The way was not entirely unimpeded, however – a Striker from the backline rapidly closing in from mid-field. Jim drew a simple pair of lines with his mind, one marking his course and one for the defender, and knew that he’d be intercepted before he could reach the goals.

“Come on Jim! Come on!”

Even through the ecstatic shouts of the crowd, one voice split off from the mass like a stray frequency. He turned his head, and saw just off to the left, standing back from the sidelines, a certain Garchomp that had a way of always drawing his eye. She had a clawed hand cupped to her mouth, her shouts of encouragement sparking a strange feeling in his heart.

He noticed right before he passed by, that she wasn’t alone. The whole theatre club was there, cheering him on, even Kendra seemed a tad excited, and that feeling inside him got stronger. He didn’t know if it was humbleness, pride, or just a hormonal reaction at seeing his desired dragoness flipping the tables, inspiring him on, but whatever it was, it gave him a much-needed boost of a little something he’d been lacking these past couple months.

Jim grinned, slowing just a tad to line himself up with the encroaching defender. He didn’t have the momentum to change course, but Jim did. The young man turned into the Striker’s path at the last second, looping around the last defence completely unmolested. Jim fell to his belly as he crossed the line, ball tucked under his chest as he skid along the ground, dirt and grass rising up in his wake.

The blow of a whistle had never sounded so sweet. He got to his feet, but was almost brought down again by his friends, rubbing his head and congratulating him. He pumped his fist and reveled in the following attention, the crowd going wilder than a firecracker.

The Strikers were given possession of the ball, but the game had minutes left on the clock, and both sides knew it was over. One final time the airhorns boomed across the oval, whoever was in charge of the siren joining the excitement by adding a few extra, quick bursts of the horn in celebration.

The Mythics, after celebrating amongst themselves, formed a rough line that ran parallel to the Striker’s own. Although sour, they wouldn’t let a defeat get in the way of being bad sports. One by one they all shook hands; Jim feeling is ego expand like a microwaved bag of popcorn when his try was complimented a couple times.

Mr. Bahril had his fair share of ‘notes’ he presented in the training room, but one could tell he was pleased to see they’d started the season off strongly. Soon they were dismissed, and the change rooms were soon misted in steam as the showers were turned on full-blast.

Eventually Jim got his turn, drying himself off and politely declining an invite to a towel-fight, quickly pulling on his pants before too many red welts could paint his rump.

Most of the spectators had departed during the cooldown, but Jim felt a smile creep over his face when he saw the whole theater club sitting nearby outside, waiting. For him? He liked to think so. Jasmine was the first to spot Jim, running up and giving him a high-five with her paw. “You were wicked out there!”

“I know,” he laughed, grinning as she and a couple other girls congratulated him, then moved on to the others of his team, filing out of the locker room behind him. Most of them were surprised, never having an entourage greet them after changing.

Cassidy waited until he was alone, stepping between him and the others for a spot of privacy. “That was quite the play, Jim,” she said, lidding her eyes for a second as she looked him over. “I had no idea you were so… dexterous.“

“Oh, well… you know- I… There was a bit of outside influence…” He grinned at her, and she returned it with a teasing look. “I’m surprised you guys made it, thought your play would go on for… Oh fuck!” He blinked in remembrance. “Yeah, the play! How’d it go? How’d it end?”

“It went well, and Mia found happiness after all, choosing her first love. They began together, so they ended together.” He was probably mistaken, but he thought he picked up on something in her tone.

“And the principal? What did he have to say?”

“He took Kendra aside for a moment after the closing act. She told me that he was pleasantly surprised. Poor girl hasn’t got a wink of sleep just to hear those two words. Still, I haven’t seen her happier since seventh grade.”

Past her shoulder thorn, Jim watched the Typhlosion grinning at her compatriots as they mingled with the Mythics. As if sensing his eyes upon her, she turned and met his gaze. It was obvious that Kendra had only come down here to repay the favour to Jim – it might be different for Cassidy and the others – but he admired her respect that underlined her generally foul demeanor. Jim blinked when he realised he’d been staring, Kendra folding her arms over her plump breast and looking away, but not before he spied the tiniest hint of a grin.

“Good for her, then.” He cleared his throat. “Speaking of the play – hello Cinderella! That song of yours was wicked, and that banjo! Did you make it up yourself?”

“Ukulele.” She corrected. “And no, I can play to a degree but I can’t craft them myself. Bought it years ago.”

“I meant the song.”

“Oh! Yes, I did, not quite the right length for a proper stanza, but with the time we had it was the best I could come up with.” She paused, arms bobbing as she shrugged. “There you have it, after all that teasing you finally saw my performance. Surprised?”

He had picked up on a certain vocal clue on their date the other day, but he’d not thought much of it at the time. “Hell yeah I am. It was worth the wait,” he said.

A little puff of air escaped through her snout, tugging at her horn in vain to hide the blush forming on her face. “Oh, it’s been some time since I picked up an instrument. I’m a tad rusty.”

“Downplay it all you like, I’ll still want to hear more.”

“Hm. I’m sure we can come up with something.” He liked that she was the one blushing, but her golden eyes made him freeze up when he met them.

“Y-Yeah?” His gaze trailed down one of her lithe shoulders, following the hard line where her blue scale plates met her red ones lining her front. His rudeness was only interrupted when he caught movement behind Cassidy, blinking when he saw someone approaching. “Hey, check it out.”

The Garchomp turned, following his eyes as she saw the principal calling Kendra’s name. The Pokémon blinked, standing and following when Mr. Clarke gestured for her to come over. Jim and Cassidy hung just within earshot, sharing an awkward glance a couple times. The heat radiating off the dragoness’ presence almost made Jim sway.

“I’ve discussed at length with my cohorts about your performance, Miss Ayers.” Kendra nodded for him to go on. “Miss Felix finds it was rather rushed, especially towards the end. I concurred, as did the others. I would have liked to have seen more of your club involved, Miss Harper didn’t even say a word aside from when she zapped Mr. Lloyd, though it was more like a grunt of effort than an actual word. I also found some of the jokes inappropriate, but only because they were not timed well at all.”

The Tyhplosion’s prior smile flipped the more the principal hampered the play. Jim could sense Cassidy tensing up beside him.

“… However.” Mr. Clarke cleared his throat. “At the mention of time, I could see how one’s potential could be limited. If I could consider today’s performance as a first draft, I see no reason not to wish for more.”

“More?” Kendra asked.

“I’d very much like to keep our theatre club alive and well – despite not knowing it was alive in the first place. You should consider adding another member or two, and give everyone at least a minor role in something more… grand.”

“Grand?” Kendra started to sound like a parrot. “I… Yes, okay. We’ll start preparing something right away.”

“Splendid. Though you might have to hold off for on-campus practice for a little while, I’d not have my students rehearsing in that wreck of a building any longer – Health and Safety would have my head otherwise. I still don’t know why you were all there in the first place. A bit of renovation might be in order. Does that suit you, Miss Ayers?”

Kendra was too startled to speak, nodding an affirmative with a truly startled look on her face.

“Good. I’m sure Miss Felix would be eager to discuss further details with you later. I’ll come visit after the refurbishments. Until then, Miss Ayers.”

The principal gave the Pokémon a nod, and left. Kendra stared at his back for a time, eventually spinning on her heel, her senses returning after a moment of blank confusion. Her club and even a few of the Mythics were gathered around, participating in one big eavesdrop.

Kendra eyed them all one by one, then, as if she’d been holding her breath for an hour, let out a loud exhale, sputtering some nonsense that sounded a little like ‘HaHA-MmFruitcakes!’ -before her face and neck lit up, the latter of which quite literally.

“We did it…” she murmured, then louder: “We did it! Mother Mary’s dubious virginity, we’re not getting the arse!”

The Pokémon and humans of the club roared like the crowds did for the Mythics, some jumping for joy, literally. Jim gave Kendra a thumbs-up when she looked, but his gesture was interrupted when Cassidy squeed and threw her arms around him.

He tensed up at first, then gently laid his arms over her scaly back, careful not to pinch on her thorns. He grinned when he saw a few of the Mythics celebrate as well, as they’d come to at least partially admire the theatre club’s work.

Cassidy was like a warm blanket of safety encroaching him from all sides, her spicy scent stronger than ever before as he rested his chin on her shoulder. He wondered if it was shampoo or just her natural fragrance.

His heart was racing as he gently edged her away, fingers locking around her taut biceps. For a second her expression dipped. Just a second, but still he chided himself. “The club will live on,” she said. “Thanks to you, Jim.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “I wasn’t that important… well, maybe I was.”

They shared smiles again, until Kendra spoke up behind them. “Careful your ego doesn’t get too big, it’ll explode.” She sighed. “We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Yes we are,” Cassidy said. “the play was a success, wasn’t it?”

“Okay, we’re out of the woods, but now we’re in some phantom forest crap. The principal’s not going to throw all that money at refurbishments for nothing. He said he wanted a bigger performance. That means bigger stakes, bigger risks, bigger crowds. I’ll have to find more members, maybe get a screenwriting assistant.”

“How about putting some ads out?” Jim suggested. “something like, I don’t know: ‘Local theatre club wishing to enroll and recruit new actors for the new super play’, put it up on the notice boards around campus, or Facebook, Myspace, wherever.”

“Crudely worded, but a sound idea.” Kendra rolled her wrist with a thoughtful look. “Of course I’ll have to organize auditions, speak to Miss Felix about that. Then there’s the waiting period for the refurbishments. A month at least… need to find a substitute place for practicing… hopefully not some other run-down facility…”

“Worrying too much, Kendra.” Cassidy rubbed her friend on the shoulder. “We should take some time off while the hall gets over-hall-ed. Hmhmm… Get it?”

The Typhlosion gave her a look. “Another comedy gold. Even Jim could have done something better.”

“Hey, don’t bring me down to that level.” Jim shrugged at the Garchomp. “No offence, Cass. Anyway, that sounds good. Maybe we could colab with the Mythics, celebrate two wins in one day.”

“What did I say? Good one, Jim.” Kendra’s laugh was forced, but she wouldn’t be laughing, fake or not, when Jim’s jest would become quite real.

Chapter 5

People and Perspective

1

Yellow machines spewing smoke from their silver exhaust pipes chugged around the theatre club’s hall, their tracks chewing up the filthy grass as they went. The success of the play had warranted a bit of a makeover for the neglected building, the loud construction equipment even drawing the eye of a few curious students who hadn’t been aware of the old building’s existence before.

With the next season game about two weeks away, and the theatre club undergoing renovations, Jim found some free time in his schedule. Normally he would go out on the town with his friends, or perhaps spend some time with Cassidy, but not now. His workload was piling on, and he willed himself into the library to find himself a quiet corner to study. He checked out a couple of textbooks and failed to absorb the information inside, his hand dragging down his face as he sighed, frustrated at himself.

He was no Einstein, but it hadn’t always been this difficult to get at least some work done. Jim was spry out of the gates of high school, despite most of his old friends going their own ways. He’d been looking forward to becoming an adult, but now it was only the campus sports team that gave him respite against the workload. Who cared about a bunch of hooey like…

He looked down at his notes.

-Like perimeters and diameters and thermometers or whatever else Mr Hode had in store for them? He just wanted to play, to impress these sponsors that had flown into town. He couldn’t do much about that if he was sitting in the library reading books, now could he? He couldn’t believe he’d thought last year had been hard…

Thinking of last year made him frown. All that care in making a presence, establishing himself a reputation, it had earned him a bit of attention from someone of the opposite sex, and after a few dates he’d been sharing his life with another. Soulmate, she’d said. It had been his first true delve into something serious. It had hurt so much when it ended, what came after.

Perhaps that was why he sought the advice of his friends now. Not because Cassidy was a Pokémon, though that certainly played a part, but because he couldn’t go through all that again. What Lara had said to him, the thing’s he’d said to her, he could remember them like they had happened yesterday.

Maybe, he thought, looking down at his crappy notes. -that’s exactly my problem.

Something about an approaching set of feet struck Jim as familiar, and he looked up from his books. From between a pair of shelves came the extended subject of his thoughts. He stared at her bright smile for a little longer than he should have, wondering if history would repeat itself.

“You were giving that book a good glare, Jim. Despise math that much?”

“Cass!” he said, conscious of how much he’d been sneering and forcing a grin. “How’d you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. Library lady told me someone already checked out the texts I needed, and you’re the culprit.” She gestured at the desk with a claw. “May I?”

She made to grab an empty chair, but Jim darted over and beat her to it, grabbing the stool by the backrest and presenting it for her. “I could get used to this,” she laughed, accepting the seat.

Jim returned to his own chair, picking up his pencil with no real intention of getting back to work. The Garchomp folded her hands over her lap, tail curling over one of her ankles. Her posture was so good it made him aware of his own hunched spine. If he didn’t know about her living conditions, he’d think she’d come from royalty.

“I never had the chance to properly thank you for the other night,” Cassidy said. “Been a bit busy since then, hasn’t it?”

Her lick on his cheek was worth more than any payment, but he didn’t correct her. “Yeah, I uh, got an idea where we could go next, when we get a chance.”

“Well, if it’s as any good as last time…”

She flashed him a coy smile, his heart skipping a beat. Even Lara hadn’t been this impressed with him so quickly, and although a part of him thought it was a little odd, it did wonders for his confidence.

I guess I must be doing something right, he thought.

They had been silent for a long moment and the awkwardness was starting to build. He tapped his foot as he watched her, forcing himself to say something.

“So-“

“When-“

He blinked at the mutual interruption, nodding at her and asking her to go on.

“Oh, no, it’s fine, you go first Jim.”

Jim wasn’t about to insist and make this into an argument, so he went ahead. “No, I-I was just wandering about your part in that play. I would have taken us to a karaoke bar if I’d known earlier.”

“Surprised? Thought you might be.” She smirked at him. “Do you sing too?”

“Nope, no way. A dying cat would sound better than me.”

“You just have to work at it. I wasn’t born with my vocals honed in either, it took a long time let the words carry me.”

“And the ukulele?”

“More of a side bonus to the singing. One day our lead guitarist failed to turn up to practice – this was back in high school by the way – and a couple of us tried to fill in for him. Turned out I could handle it better than the others. Over time I had some lessons in a couple other instruments, but the uke has always been my go-to.”

“… Wait, wait,” he said, holding up his hand. “you were in a band?”

“Oh, no, just music class. I didn’t make the cut to get any further than that. Their loss, right? Anyway, it turned out I could put my skills to use on the stage, as you saw. Though I’d love to be part of a duet at least.” She looked him up and down, her golden eyes dilating. “You play any instruments?”

“N… well.” He thought for a second. “Actually I’ve dabbled. In the percussion family.”

“Percussion? Which one?”

“Yeah, you know those little rainbow xylophones?” He mimed hitting a keyboard. “I could spell out cabbage like the patch kids were going out of style.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t be such a tease, I was being serious.” But despite her words, she was laughing that heavenly laugh he so enjoyed.

Jim twirled his pencil between his fingers, the cold air conditioning prickling the hairs on his skin as he cleared his throat. “So… what were you going to say? Just before?”

“Oh, my question was a lot duller than yours, I doubt it will compare.”

“Try me.”

“I was going to ask about that,” She pointed at his textbook. “You’re also finalising Mr. Hode’s report?”

“Heh, yeah, ‘finalising’,” he mumbled. “Was just about to type this all up then beat it.”

“Physical violence against literature isn’t the answer,” Cassidy said.

“I meant beat it as in getout of here.”

“In that case, would you mind if we compared notes? Since you’ve so happened to have the last textbook?” From her bag she produced a yellow folder, a little sticky note with a subject name written on the front cover.

“Cass, that’ll be like… like comparing a tiger to a pussycat. I hate math.”

“So do I. Come on, let’s see.”

She reached for his work, Jim pressing down on his exercise book to try and deter her. He couldn’t compare to her draconic strength, though, and she slid his notes over to her side.

She peered over her muzzle critically as she held his report up. “I’m sure it’s not that bad I- Eugh!”

She made a sound like she’d just seen a toad get squashed beneath a truck, and Jim buried his face in his palm in shame. All that work on appearances, and now the truth was out.

“Well,” she began. “this is a little… hm.” She squinted as she read from one of the paragraphs. “‘By and large, it is this humble researcher’s opinion that the summary of the report is thus…’ That’s a little inflated, isn’t it? What’s wrong with ‘in conclusion’?”

“Have to make that word count somehow,” he tried.

“There’s plenty to talk about in the topic. Look, just go over the main points like I did.”

She held out her own report and had him go over it. She’d carefully placed each paper in separate plastic slips so they didn’t crease. It was all carefully formatted like a computer document, with sticky notes labelling what the pages contained.

“Woah,” he said after glancing through it. “you think I could… uhm…”

“Copy? And risk the both of us failing?” Cassidy shook her head. “Look, yours isn’t bad it’s just… second-rate to good!”

“Pretty sure that means the same thing.”

“Here, you need to brush up your concept introduction, that’s where the main problem is.” As she said this she picked up her chair and scooted closer. Before Jim could say problem schmoblem, she was taking him through word by word and telling him how to shape up his report as politely as possible.

Over the next half hour his shame turned into admiration, then to respect, then to absolute impression when he went over his first couple of reworked pages. He didn’t like how some of the other people hanging around watched the dragoness clearly taking the lead in the work, but having Cassidy as company made it all worth a bit of emasculation.

“This is awesome,” he said when they were done, the difference noticeable even from just a glance. “Might actually get a decent grade this time.”

“It’ll have to do. You really shouldn’t wait until the due date to finalise assignments, Jim.” She gave him a look not at all condescending.

“I know, I know.” He was about to add I was busy, or some other excuse, but couldn’t word it in a way that didn’t sound petty. “Thank you. Really.”

She held the eye contact until a slight heat invaded the scales on her snout, turning them from blue to pink. She glanced between them, as if she’d just realised how close the two of them had been sitting together. The dragoness didn’t try to move away, though. “You doing anything later?” she asked, lidded eyes watching him.

He had to hand in some forms to coach, visit A block to find Mrs. Green, and pick up his jersey he left in the locker room the other day.

“No nothing,” he said. “Wanna do something?”

“I’ve got an idea…”

Right as Jim was about to ask what, Cassidy pushed his papers into his hands. “Pack up, Kendra’s hosting the auditions for the new club members, we should go and watch.”

Not what Jim had in mind, but he masked his disappointment with a grin. “Sounds good.” Carefully sliding his work into his bag so as not to crease it, he waited for Cassidy to collect her things.

“Ready,” she said, waiting for him to lead the way.

“Alright. Shall we?” He held his arm out, like he had on their night out, a little more confident this time around.

Cassidy looked down at his offered limb like she would at a fish jumping out of a body of water, glancing at his face with apprehension. “Here? In front of everyone?”

“Well if you don’t want to…” He lowered his hand. Before it reached his hip, her arm snaked its way between it and his waist, her claws weaving between his fingers. The little scales on her soft palm rubbed and tickled against his flesh. “Reconsidered?” he asked her.

“Not many males like expressing these sorts of things in front of others. Like they’re afraid.” She flashed him a warm smile. “Not you, though.”

“I think Kendra’s been putting bad ideas in your head about us guys.” He waved a hand at the library. “Who cares what these people think? This place is full of nerds anyway.”

“Is that why you’re here, then?” The Garchomp couldn’t look any cheekier if she tried.

2

Jim wiped the sweat from his brow, looking up at the cloudless sky. The sun was well on its way to the horizon, baking the campus in its healthy afternoon glow, deep shadows being cast from the taller lecture blocks concentrated around the centre of the university grounds. A few other students were out milling between the buildings, most heading in the opposite direction to where he and Cassidy were heading.

The path they followed snaked between the science blocks, the flat path interrupted now and again by a set of stairs. Apparently the theatre club were down near the ovals while the hall was off-limits. Jim liked to think his sports team and their drama club were becoming closer, but it was probably just easier to find a spot away from prying eyes if none of the blocks were available.

They rounded one of the laboratories, Jim catching sight of something up ahead. Between two of the labs was a square patch of gravel, a few clumps of hardy weeds sprouting here and there through the earth. Standing next to one of the windows were three people, two of them towering over the third, Jim recognising him with a start.

“What is it?” Cassidy asked when he stopped walking. She followed his eyes to the trio of boys. “Oh my. Meth heads?”

“No,” Jim said with an amused snort. Poor Edwardo was getting roughed up again, and he didn’t need to tell her that, one of the older boys giving the kid a shove as the pair watched from afar.

“Goodness, are they… extorting that guy?” Cassidy asked, blinking when a couple of ten-dollar bills could be seen being exchanged, Edwardo handing them over with a trembling hand. “That’s horrible! Who’s that getting bullied?”

“I don’t know he’s just some nerd,” Jim said. “Let’s loop around.”

He made to go, but his arm was still locked with her own, and Cassidy didn’t budge. “You’re just going to walk off?” she asked.

“Cass people get bullied all the time round here.”

“Someone who stand by and watches the bully is just as bad as one. Someone, should put a stop to it.”

He looked from her to the bullies. They hadn’t noticed them yet, one of them throwing a pretend-punch that made Edwardo flinch. Why hadn’t he remembered they were always near this spot this time of day? He could have saved himself a lot of trouble.

He glanced back at Cassidy, the Garchomp glaring at the exchange. Any other day and he’d walk on by, but she’d probably loose all respect for him if he did that now. After a moment of hesitating, he grumbled under his breath as he set his bag down.

“Wait here,” Jim sighed, crossing the grass towards the group. Hopefully they were just about done so they could all be on their way.

The gravel crunched under his shoes, alerting his presence to the bullies and Edwardo. The poor guy even had a pair of buckteeth peeking from his upper lip, his eyes hidden behind a pair of dirty glasses. Jim could have sworn the kid didn’t look all too pleased to see him.

“Hey guys,” Jim began, not really sure what to say apart from greeting them normally, he’d never had to stand up to bullies before. “Leave him alone.”

The one doing most of the talking turned, revealing a face under heavy assault by a bad case of acne. Jim decided that would be his name. Something seemed very familiar about the shape of Acne’s face, but Jim couldn’t recall what.

“The hell’s are you’s?” Acne asked, his brown eyes squinting. “You this chum’s boyfriend? You a fuckin’ fairy?”

The other bully snickered, the flab on his arms jiggling as he heaved. Flabby seemed as good a name as any. “Ha, yeah, bet they slurp each other off every day! Ha ha!”

“Stop laughing you idiot,” Acne scolded, turning his attention back on Edwardo. “Piss off’s,” he warned. “this isn’t about you’s.”

“I think’s it is,” Jim mocked, putting a hand on Acne’s shoulder. The moment he did, his elbow came forward and landed squarely on Jim’s nose, the man hearing something crack as he stumbled away.

He blinked his vision clear just in time to see Acne’s fist coming in, Jim catching it just in time before he got lamped a second time. It had been a while since he’d got into a fight. He’d scuffled out on the field of course, but he’d always had his team to back him up. No such help now.

“Get you’s hands off me!” Acne growled, but it was far too late to back down now, Jim coming at him after he recovered. He threw his own punch, but Acne caught it, the two falling into a grapple as they tried to overpower the other. Imagining he was in the smallest scrum, Jim leaned down and speared his head forward as hard as he could, feeling Acne’s chin catch against his temple.

Spittle went flying from Acne’s mouth, his neck twisting at an unnatural angle. Jim pushed him into the brickwork, Edwardo just managing to dodge out of the way. Jim brought his knee into Acne’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

He grabbed Acne by the front of his shirt, pulling his fist back and ready to give him a split lip. But before he could he was turned around by a hand on his shoulder.

He met Flabby’s sneer with his own before the bully decked him with a hook. The pain was amazing, Jim almost doing a full spin as he fell to the dirt, bits of rock digging into his arm as he braced his fall.

Jim felt something wet fill his mouth, and he turned his head to spit out a thick wad of blood. He wiped the corner of his mouth with a wrist, looking up to see Flabby’s silhouette standing against the sun. He saw a silvery glint on one of his hands – it was a ring. That explained the blood.

Flabby’s boot smashed into his ribs, Jim wheezing like an old man as he convulsed. He felt a hand close around his throat and hoist him up, Jim finding himself face-to-face with the guy giving him a run for his money.

“Eat this! Ha ha!” Flabby reeled back a fist, but as he did, a draconic shape appeared behind him, and with one swift movement, Cassidy kicked him in the balls.

“Ooo!” Flabby wailed like a girl, his knees twisting together as he clutched at his groin, appearing as if he suddenly had to use the bathroom. He twisted around and threw a wild fist, lamping Cassidy across the snout. The dragoness hissed as she clutched at her face.

It was hard to see through the sun and the pain, but Jim could just make out Flabby’s shocked expression when he saw exactly who had given his nuts a squish. He’d probably been told never to hit a girl, only boys.

“F-Fucking bitch,” Flabby spat, his tone a few octaves higher as he nursed his nads.

“Filthy ruffian!” Cassidy snarled, facing him side-on as her tail whipped behind her. “Take this! Hya!”

She stomped the ground with a foot, her long talons digging into the earth. From where she stood, cracks in the ground started to split apart the ground, inch-deep rifts shaped like spider webs slowly expanding out in Flabby’s direction. Plumes of dust sprayed from between the rifts, a loud rumble drowning out all other noise. Flabby was thrown off his feet. He launched a good foot off the ground as he tumbled away behind the building, rolling down the incline and into the ferns.

When the quake receded, Jim got to his feet, blinking his eyes clear as he nursed his numbing face. Cassidy joined him, folding her arms and staring daggers at Acne, who was still trying to regulate his breathing. He took one look at the pair and booked it, not even bothering to check on his fellow bully as he disappeared around the corner.

Once the dust literally settled, Jim turned to his draconic friend, wiping at his eye. “I told you to wait, Cass.” He rolled his nose and found it wasn’t broken. “You okay?”

“Oh, right, because you looked like you had that all under control.” She rolled her eyes. “And yes, I’m fine,” she added.

He peered at her lip and saw a slight bruising, but it looked like Flabby hadn’t done too much damage. His heart fluttered when he saw the row of sharp teeth hidden just behind her scaly lip.

“You’re bleeding,” she noted, pointing a claw at her own face. “Just here.”

“Oh, yeah, that fatass was wearing a ring. Here?”

“No, left.” She pointed at her cheek.

“Here?”

She shook her head, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a cloth. Before he could say anything she dabbed it across his lips and. “There,” she said after a moment. “You look… a little better.”

“Th-Thanks,” he said, clearing his throat. “Let’s, uh, check up on the downtrodden.”

They moved over to the shaking, stunned individual who’d watched the whole show with wide eyes. He was trembling against the wall, looking to where his assailants had fled, taking another moment to compose himself.

“This is… is…” Edwardo muttered. “this is absolutely… terrible!”

Jim exchanged a glance with Cassidy, who shrugged back. Clearly she wasn’t expecting that response either.

“Normal people usually say something else when they’re helped out,” Jim said. “Something that rhymes with tanks.“

“Helped out?” Edwardo wailed. “It took me so long to come to an arrangement with them! Now they’ll come back worse than ever!”

Jim noticed something black on the ground nearby. Kneeling, he found it was a pair of spectacles, with a little bundle of sticky tape over one of the arm joints. He offered the glasses with a shake. “These yours?”

Edwardo took them, sniffing up a drop of snot dangling from one of his nostrils. “Are you okay?” Jim asked, even though he was clearly not.

“Nothing band aids wont fix,” Edwardo replied, wiping at his face, his hands so dirty he just made more of a mess.

“Come on, stand up.” Jim hefted him up by the armpit. “Cass you got any more tissues?”

“One second.”

She handed one over, which he gave to Edwardo, who blew his nose in it. Jim told him he could keep it when he offered the tissue back.

“You should be okay from now on,” Cassidy said. “same can’t be said for that man’s testicles, though.”

“‘Okay’? Hardly,” Edwardo scoffed. “They’ll just bring more of their friends and beat me up, probably thinking I hired you two to save me. This is far from okay!”

“Then get a professor,” Cassidy said, a hint of irritation in her voice. “report those two.”

“You think I haven’t tried? They don’t care unless they catch it in the act, which they never do. The best they’ve done is give their parents a phone call. There’s no point.”

“You’re wrong, the staff can help, they could expel them.”

“Probably would have done that already if they could,” Jim said, gesturing at her. “It’s up to us to sort things out. Old Edwardo here knows that.”

“That’s not my name-” Edwardo began, but the pair weren’t listening to him.

“What are you talking about Jim?” Cassidy asked with an astounded blink. “The staff are here for exactly that reason.”

“Then why didn’t you go get one instead of jumping in?”

“Because it would have taken too long.”

“Exactly my point.”

She went to say something, but faltered as the argument left her in an exhale. “Anyway, just keep away from the unpopulated areas,” she said, turning to Edwardo. “call a teacher, or come get us if they do something like this again.”

Edwardo shrugged, letting Jim know he wasn’t really planning on taking her advice.

“I… I am grateful that you guys showed up,” Edwardo sighed. “don’t get me wrong. A thanks is in order, so… thanks.”

As the kid turned to leave, Jim felt a tension knot in his stomach, and it wasn’t the pain. How many times had he walked past Edwardo and let this happen? Even if intervening hadn’t changed anything, he’d still carried on like it wasn’t his problem to deal with.

He glanced at the Garchomp, guilty that it took her of all people to convince him to step in. What was it she had said? The one who watches the bully is just as bad as one. It couldn’t make up for all the other times, but maybe he should start stepping in more often.

… Damn, was he learning a moral lesson right now?

She caught him staring and flashed him a concerned look. “You alright Jim?”

“Yeah,” he said after hesitating. “We should get going too.”

“Mhm, someone had to have felt that quake.”

Once they were a safe distance away, following the path around and away the science blocks, he asked her about that. “Speaking of quakes,” he said. “the hell was that? That was like some Avatar earth-bending stuff!”

“I’d be lying if I said it was nothing.” She huffed. “That move cost me a lot of energy.”

“It was awesome. Not as good as that kick to that guy’s sack, but a close second.”

She waved a hand, smiling to herself. “Please. You handled yourself well too, even if I had to come in and help.”

“Hey it was two on one.” The path wound around the far northern side of the campus, the theatre hall just visible on their left as they moved downhill. “At least they weren’t dragons,” he added. “Things would have gone a lot differently.”

“We’re not invincible, we’re susceptible to pain, just like humans,” Cassidy said. “Can I tell you something?”

“I love secrets,” he replied, the dragoness chuckling at him.

“If fatso back there had hit one of these, I’d be in trouble.” She pointed up at one of her horns. “Our hearing drums stretch into the horns, and they’re packed with nerve endings. A good smack could send even the biggest Salamence over. Very sensitive.”

“Really? You trust me enough with that info?”

“Yes, despite the inner council of dragon’s warnings, I’ve relented.” Cassidy laughed at her own jest, then fixed him with a serious look. “Of course, if you intend on using it against me I would have to stop seeing you, Jim.”

“Duly noted.”

3

“I guess this looks a little more official,” Jim said.

The familiar faces of the theatre club were gathered beneath the hoop of one of the empty basketballs courts that capped the oval, the rectangular slab of rubber sheltered beneath a tall sheet metal roof, held aloft by four thick columns at the corners, Jim and Cassidy passing through the cage door built into the wired fence ringing the court. There was a little sign beside the door that said Auditions in progress!

There were strangers mixed into the group as well, the dozens of human and Pokémon lounging around a wooden desk, which Kendra and Miss Felix were sitting behind, the teacher flailing about trying to keep her stacks of papers from flying off in the breeze.

“At least there’s one staff member on board with us,” Cassidy noted. “That’s something at least.”

The theatre club welcomed the pair as they sat down, Jim guessing the new faces were the people looking to join up. Most of them stood off to one side, clearly hesitant, reminding Jim of the time he was trying out for the Mythics. He’d been wet behind the ears, and all the established players, even Mr. Bahril, had given him plenty of shit for his rite of passage.

The contrast between how he’d been treated, and how these actors were, was astounding. The club mingled with them, chatting them up and making them feel welcomed. Even Cassidy was mingling with a human girl and she’d only been sitting for five minutes. It was a pleasant sight seeing them all getting along, but a part of him was concerned. What if these new people got in just because they were too nice to ignore?

He glanced over at their Typhlosion leader, her pudgy features pulled into a taut grimace. At least he knew Kendra would be tough, and he admired that about her in a way.

One by one Miss Felix called the new recruits to front and centre, the colourful cast putting on a few quick recitals each. There were a couple of dragon-types lined up, a few aquatics and even some humans, the latter of which giving him smiles when he met their gazes. It was a little strange being the only human male around in a group full of Pokémon. There were a few human girls in the club, of course, but he was an oddball out in more ways than one.

Isaac might call him the luckiest guy in the world, surrounded by the fairer gender, but Jim wouldn’t mind a few more humans in the club, it would help him feel a little less alien, even if the club had warmed up to him.

There was one particular audition worth recalling that afternoon. After flipping through her notes, Kendra called out the next name without looking up. “Sasha!”

Someone from the crowd rose to her feet, and Jim was truly wondered at how he hadn’t noticed her before. Toes tipped with dark nails supported a pair of digitigrade legs rippling with muscle as its owner raised from the floor without using her arms. Healthy thighs plump with fat strained against an impossibly tight pair of black shorts that matched her scales. A thick tail protruded out from above her rump, where it arced behind her head in a vaguely question-mark like shape, the underside of the appendage a hot pink colour. On both sides of the tail, two additional appendages waved like stands of hair unaffected by gravity, roughly half the size of her main tail and as thin as sticks.

Her smooth hips tapered up to a slim waist where pink and black scales traced ornate patterns across her exposed belly. An equally tight, black shirt hung over a generous bust, a set of slim arms that ended in long fingers lifting up to flatten out the creases of the top. Propped up on a thin neck, a crocodilian-shaped snout peered over a shoulder, a pair of white teeth poking upwards from inside her long muzzle. The sharp, pink eye on this side of her face seemed to glow faintly across her curvy brow.

Sasha the Salazzle. It had a nice ring to it. Jim didn’t have the willpower to resist watching her hips roll with each stride she took, his eyes eventually coming back to rest on hers. The tip of her mouth curved, her eyes closing, but not all the way as she watched him ogle her.

It was a rare sight to see a girl exposing her midriff, but she pulled it off, her toned muscles working into the soft feminine curves of her developed abs. He had to shake his head vigorously lest Cassidy catch him staring.

Miss Felix didn’t share in the lizard brain thoughts that had affected Jim and half the males present, eyes lowered in disappointment as she scrutinised the Pokémon. “Um, excuse me. That dress is highly inappropriate, missy.”

The Salazzle leaned on one a hip, hand raised to her chest to feign some offense. “This? It’s for the character, ma’am. No more, no less.”

Miss Felix wasn’t satisfied, but waved for her to proceed anyway, Kendra clearing her throat. The Typhlosion was too bored to care either way, waving a slip of paper at her. “You will be the red lines, Sasha. I will take the blue ones.”

Sasha nodded, taking the script and stepping back, shutting her eyes. When she opened them, she seemed to change, her lazy eyes now alert and searching, her posture changing to make her seem flustered and excited.

The script had the Salazzle play the part of a mother who was caught speeding, Kendra taking the role of a policeman. Sasha didn’t just recite her lines with her voice alone, she used her expressive eyes to do all the hard work. She used her exaggerated lips to convey her state of mind, tensing her cheeks when she needed to be stressed, accentuating her body language when Kendra’s character threatened to haul her to the station. If she weren’t about his age Jim could almost be fooled into thinking she’d actually lived out this situation.

The audience was enraptured, mumbling their approval as the rehersal drew to a close. The Salazzle bowed to a impressed round of applause, a mischievous grin spreading over her chops. As she turned to leave, Kendra and Miss Felix whispered to each other like they were the judges on the X Factor, the teacher clearly impressed despite her earlier words.

“Alright, Caitlyn, Amanda, Levi, you three are next, we’re doing a group rehearsal this time.” Kendra handed out a few scripts to the newcomers. “Caius, Bernard Cass, I’ll need your help with this one.”

The people she called stood, Cassidy grinning down at Jim. “Meet you back here?”

“Sure.”

The Garchomp turned away, her tail brushing against his knee as she moved off. It was so packed with muscle, as thick around as his waist at its base, and yet it felt as smooth as silk against his exposed leg. Had she done that on purpose? Maybe helping out Edwardo had cast him in a different perspective to the dragoness.

As he watched Cassidy go, something dark filled his vision, his eyes widening when he looked up to see Sasha moving towards him, planting her rump right where Cassidy had vacated. Her snout was angled at the ‘stage’ of the audition, but he had a feeling she was watching him from the corner of her eye.

“Nice job up there,” he said, thinking he should probably say something.

Sasha’s eye on this side dilated, bringing him into her focus. A grin spread across her maw. “Anything to get out of a jam,” she said, her voice low and flinty.

He held out a hand. “Sasha, right? My name’s-“

“Jim, critique of the arts and supporter of theatre. Also the anchor of the Mythic’s sports team. I know who you are.” She took his hand into her own, but not in the traditional handshake he was aiming for. She pinched the tops of his fingers in her claw, forcing his thumb to rest over her middle finger. The gesture seemed like something out of the Victorian era.

“That sounds like me,” he said. She let his hand go and looked him up and down, seemingly waiting for him to continue. “You look me up on the internet or something?” he asked.

“I can’t go five minutes in this club without one of the girls talking about you.” She gestured with her snout at his new friends. “They say you walked in one day and told the Sylveon she could do better, and that despite Kendra’s attempts to dissuade you, you kept coming back. I wonder if there’s any truth to it all…”

“That sounds like the gist of it,” he said, his eyes playing over her strange features. He was aware of a strange smell in the air – a minty scent, the source of which couldn’t be more obvious.

“Prove it,” Sasha said, Jim quirking an eyebrow at her. She leaned back until she rested on an elbow, her other hand on her stomach. “If you’re not afraid to speak you mind, go on, what did you make of me?“

“Your performance?” he asked, the Salazzle not answering him. “Well, it was pretty good, but I don’t think you can persuade police that easily, even with your… womanly charms. I guess that’s more the scripts fault than yours, though.”

“You think it was too suggestive?”

Jim swallowed, suddenly feeling hot under the collar. He wasn’t sure if they were still talking about her performance anymore, carefully choosing his next words. “For the casual audience, it was.”

That seemed to please her, Sasha examining one of her nails. “A good point. I’ll keep it in mind for later.”

“You look like you know the girls well,” Jim asked, changing the subject. “were you a part of the club at some point?”

“Not exactly,” Sasha replied. “I was part of the campus drama club, back before theatre was even a dream in miss hothead’s mind.” She jerked her head in Kendra’s direction. “Our numbers began to stagnate when she took the reins and the staff grew bored of us. She wanted to take us in a different direction, to bring drama back, but not everyone agreed with how she bossed us around.”

“Who would have thought…” Jim said.

“She ended up leaving, taking half the other students with her, and ended the club just like that. I have a feeling she knew it was finished, the way she hid over in that abandoned hall, away from prying eyes. Imagine my surprise when she had the gall to start posting notices again, letting everyone know she’s formed… this.”

“You don’t sound too happy.”

“Kendra’s a control freak, always thought of herself as higher than everyone else. Someone has to make sure she doesn’t go screwing up again because of her fragile ego.”

“Is that why you’re here? For spite?”

The way the hue of her pink eyes seemed to radiate around her sockets like wisps of smoke made him nervous, like she was a specter looking into his soul. “No. You know Amelia, the Lapras? She asked me to come just in case they needed the numbers.”

“You’re going to join up because you were asked?”

“You and Kendra drew the eye of the principal, didn’t you? Impressed him enough to get the hall refurbished, and that tells me he has plans for you all. If there’s any chance at catching extra credit and exposing my talent, it’s with this lot.”

“So it’s more personal? Well, as long as you can act…”

“Is that sarcasm I hear? Don’t be coy, Jim, you are the one who’s been chasing that dragon’s tail this whole time – your reasons are just as selfish if not more so.”

Jim tried to both deny and admit that, and ended up just blabbering out nonsense, the Salazzle giggling at him.

“It does come off as a tad desperate, but some girls like a… supportive suitor. I can’t tell you how many empty words boys have said to me to try and woo me, only to fall short. But I can tell you’re different.” She looked him up and down, not bothering to even pretend she wasn’t eyeing him up. “You know how? Because you alone are the reason this club has come this far at all. I just wonder how much you’d be willing to do to impress a woman.”

“I… care deeply for this club’s future.”

“I can’t tell if you’re lying or not,” Sasha said. “Whether this is all for her, or not, I suppose we’ll find out soon.” She broke eye-contact, her pink eyes slowly blinking. “You ever considered she might be leading you on, holding back? Getting you to help out her club while running circles around you?”

“No,” he replied. “I mean, no, she’s not. W-Why would she do that?”

“Maybe she knows you’re desperate, and is using that to keep her little club afloat, who can say? She’ll make you wait until she’s certain you’re devoted, speaking from experience here.”

“Well I-I don’t want to rush into anything either, so…” He shrugged.

Sasha’s eyes met his, so strikingly pink and alert it was hard to meet them for more than a few moments. “So innocent. You’re pretty cute for a human. I hope we’ll become a lot better acquainted once Kendra welcomes me back into the club.”

She stood up, her snout angled towards the ongoing audition. It was coming to a close, a fresh round of applause filling the court. Sasha looked down at him, her long neck making her appear far taller than him even if he were standing.

“See you around, Jim,” she said with a wink, moving off just as Cassidy was coming back. Jim prayed that she wouldn’t make the cut, but the Salazzle had nailed the audition, so he doubted this would be the last he saw of her.

He tore his eyes from Sasha’s swaying hips, meeting Casidy’s gaze as she sat down beside him. “How’d I do?” she asked him. If she had seen him talking to Sasha, she didn’t show it.

“Good, very good,” he said, despite having talked to Sasha the whole time and hadn’t caught a word of the rehearsal.

“Where’s that famous criticism gone?” A wry smile played at her lips.

“You must be finally getting better,” he said without missing a beat. The Garchomp slapped him playfully on the arm.

“Oh, you’re a tease.”

The afternoon stretched on, and soon all the new people had their shot at the auditions. Kendra told them all that she would get back to who made the cut and who didn’t, ever the hardcase as she scrutinised the new blood.

As the crowd started to disperse, Jim nudged Cassidy’s thorny arm to get her attention. “Hey, uh, you doing anything later?”

“I was going to start finalizing the next report for Mr. Hode.”

“Wait what? We just worked on it before.”

“That was the first assignment, the next one’s due in a few weeks.”

“Oh for fu… another one? I haven’t heard of any new assignment.”

“It’s on the school portal.”

“Nobody actually logs into that thing, Cass.”

“Maybe that’s why you’re running late on your work all the time.”

That hurt. He didn’t think he came off that much as a dummy, but he didn’t want to lie to her. “Yeah, I’m uh… not good at managing my time.” He chuckled nervously.

“That’s alright, we can get stuck into the assignment if you haven’t got training this afternoon?”

“I was kinda hoping we could… go hang out somewhere.”

“We can hang out – in the library! Come on, the sooner we get through the reports the more time we’ll have spare after.”

Trying not to look too disappointed, he got up and followed after her.

Chapter 6

Season High

1

By the end of the week, most of the construction equipment had departed, and to say the hall had been refurbished would have been an understatement, it was practically a whole new building. The front lawns had been layered with a healthy bed of mulch, already home to pockets of fresh seedlings and colourful bromeliads. The concrete path ringing three of the buildings four sides were smooth and grey, melding around the building like a band of polished limestone. The external walls, weathered by months of weather and neglect, had been completely replaced by smooth, rust-coloured bricks, spaced apart in places by panes of actually intact glass for a change, foregoing the preciously crack house-like appearance Jim had come to expect from the building.

The sloped roof was painted an onyx black, the angled tiles contrasting neatly against the bricks, accentuating the white outlines of the pair of glass entry doors, which had been upgraded with silver bolt locks, the proverbial cherry on top for the building’s transformation into the modern day.

“It feels like I’ve moved houses again,” Cassidy mused, craning her long head up to examine the building just as he was. For the last few days the pair had been studying and submitting their assignments, the Garchomp’s critical eye keeping Jim’s grades from slacking. There’d been a moment of silent reflection for the young man at one point during the study crunch. He’d actually had… fun, while doing it. It was truly a wonder for the ages, and when they’d heard the hall was ready for students again, a part of him was a little disappointed they had to hop off the grind. Was this what it felt like to be inspired to learn?

He’d forgotten the feeling, if he’d even had the feeling before. Why didn’t he get a hot, dragoness study-buddy earlier?

They moved into the main lobby, which sort of looked like an airlock with the next set of doors further inside, designed so that the sound outside didn’t bleed so much inside. Someone had installed a bag rack against one of the walls, which were almost full to capacity, a certain Typhlosion squatting there as she fished through her bag.

When she looked up at the pair, Jim recoiled away. Not only was her face a shade lighter than her usual demeanour exuberated, but she was exposing her teeth, her lips pulled up and up. Some would call that expression a smile, but it was a bit too sinister for Jim’s taste.

“Cass, Jim! Have you seen what they’ve done to this place?!” Kendra exclaimed, her hands flailing to point at everything.

“No we just got here,” Jim replied. “Any good?”

“Good is an understatement. Come, I’ll give you the tour, the rest of the club is already inside.”

She moved over and pushed the next set of doors aside, the pair following after. Too many things stood out to Jim all at once, the young man blinking in surprise as he regarded the new and very much improved interior.

The first thing of note was the smell. Gone was that musty, wood-saw riddled stench that lingered like a bad odour, instead replaced with a cool, air-conditioned room temperature one might find in a greenhouse.

Second was the stage. Huge velvet drapes as red as wine flanked the sides of the raised, wooden platform, extending almost to the north and south walls. He could just make out tall support columns hidden behind and above the stage, connect by walkways that people could use to manoeuvre about the stage without being seen by the audience.

A huge empty space before the stage acted as a buffer between it and the stands, the varnished wood shining as it caught the light of the ceiling floodlights, which were tinted blue instead of yellow now, making the whole scene easier on the eyes.

Last was the audience stands, and even Cinemax would have been jealous of the accommodations. The chairs were big enough to support Pokémon, with comfortable-looking leather backrests cushioned in all the right places with cut-outs for tails, the seats closer to the walls curving slightly inward so the people sitting there wouldn’t have to turn their heads so much to watch a performance. Over a hundred people could fit inside, double that if they were to fill the empty buffer zone with extra chairs.

“As you can see, we’ve got a lot more space to work with,” Kendra said, turning to the pair like a tourguide as she gestured behind her. “And to help this we’ve got more controls to work with, for example we can manipulate the floodlights to get just the right amount of light and the perfect angle, using this handy control panel over here.”

To the right side of the stage, there was a square box mounted on the wall, the buttons inside labelled with different functions for the lights. “These buttons only work if you insert this key the principal provided me with, so there’s less chance of someone pranking us.” Kendra demonstrated how to dim the lights.

“Is that a coffee machine?” Jim asked, wandering off to examine said appliance. It was set up on a simple trestle table along with a tray of finger foods Jim helped himself to. “You guys got the proper digs now, huh?”

“Quite,” Kendra muttered. “Take one beverage only thank you. They’ve also installed a couple of technical features for the stage, follow me.”

Passing a group of Pokémon reciting a group dance, watched over by a few new faces, they moved up the side of the stage, until they were on a metal platform hidden behind one of the curtains. From here Jim got a clean look at the stage and the overarching walkways. It looked like some kind of control area, where one could keep track of everything happening behind the scenes.

“This control board does a lot of the hard work for us,” Kendra continued, gesturing to a circular desk that looked as complicated as an airliner cockpit, hundreds of different coloured buttons and levers blinking away at random. Kendra started pointing at different switches. “This one closes and opens the curtains, so no more rope pulleys for us. This one is a master switch for all the lights, and this one controls the speaker volumes.”

“This is like Jigsaw’s control room,” Jim noted. “All you need now is to set up a bunch of cameras and trapdoors and stuff.”

“I’ve never seen that movie, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” Kendra replied. “Only now do I realise just how much I’ve needed all this until now, especially with all these new members and the extra space. With this intercom I might as well be my own little principal inside these walls.”

“Intercom?” Cassidy asked.

The Typhlosion gestured at a microphone stand jutting from the control dash. “It’s one-way, and I can reach everyone from here without having to run around like a chicken without its head. There’s a setting here to control which rooms can hear me.”

“Aw neat,” Jim said, leaning down and hitting the on button, his mouth against the microphone. “Breaker 1-9. Breaker. Breaker.”

His voice reverberated throughout the hall through several unseen speakers, loud and a little distorted, Kendra slapping him away while Cassidy stifled a chuckle. “That thing is not a toy, you dolt,” Kendra scolded. “Mrs. Felix is backstage!”

“There’s a backstage now?” Cassidy asked. “It used to be just a fire exit.”

“Indeed there is,” Kendra said, perking up as she resumed the tour. They ringed around the stage proper, a corridor curving round until a long hallway with several doors stood before them, each frame labelled with a sign.

“We have dedicated change and makeup rooms,” Kendra said, raising a hand. “along with a planning room and recital area. A break room too, with a fridge and even a toaster. All airconditioned,” she added, grinning as Jim nodded in admiration.

They went into one of the makeup rooms, the far wall completely mirrored, depicting the rows of stools setup before a couple pairs of sinks and shelves stacked with eyeliner and makeup, along with other facial cosmetics Jim couldn’t identify. He whistled in surprise as he took it all in.

“They went all out with this place,” he said. “Don’t you think, Cass?”

“It’s a little overwhelming,” she said with a nervous chuckle. “We’ll have to really pull off something big to make sure this wasn’t all for nothing. Speaking of which…” She turned knowingly to the Typhlosion. “what is our play going to be about?”

“We’ll get to that,” Kendra replied. “For now I want to make sure the new people know what they’re doing, and I’ll need your help determining who gets the major and minor roles. Both of you,” she added, giving Jim a look.

“You’re not going to snag the main character for yourself?” Jim asked. “You know, I’ve just realised I’ve never seen you act before, Kendra.”

“I am the leader,” Kendra snapped, raising a defensive hand. “if it wasn’t for me none of us would be here right now. And I can act,” she added, like she needed to justify herself. “I’d act your critiques right into the ground if we had the time.”

“You’d make a good villain, no doubt about that,” Jim replied.

They ended the tour and returned to the foyer. The rest of the drama club assembled around the stage when Kendra called for a meeting, most of them in high spirits thanks to the refurbishments. Jim had only briefly seen the hall in such a sorry state, so the effect must be doubly so for the original members.

“Listen up everybody,” Kendra began, clambering onto the stage, standing head and shoulders above the club like an announcer. “I’ve typed out a list of scenes we’re going to rehearse today, Cassidy’s handing them out right now. We’re going to split into two groups, mine and Jim’s. We’ll be marking down who’s working well in which area, and who’ll be playing what role in our final play, from supports to main leads. They’re all equally important, so do the best you can in all roles.”

“Please tell me these are drafts,” Sasha said, the Salazzle holding her sheet like it was a dirty toilet roll.

“Prototypes,” Kendra added, scowling at her old friend. “nothing is solid yet, but these are the general ideas.”

“So you haven’t even written what we’ll be doing on the big day?” Sasha sighed. “Old habits die hard, huh?”

It was unfortunate that Cassidy got put in Kendra’s group, the Typhlosion probably wanting Jim to concentrate rather than chat her up, but at least he got to know some of the new faces. He felt a sense of power when people found out they were being put in his group and no the surly Typhlosion’s, like he was the cool teacher or something.

As Kendra separated the last of the club, he felt a pang of apprehension as Sasha walked his way, the Salazzle’s gaze falling on his own. She’d certainly been provocative the last time they’d spoken, and he worried over what she might try now that Cassidy wasn’t around.

She cocked her hips in a way his eyes couldn’t resist, raising an arm at him. “What position do you want me in, Jim?”

“I-I beg your pardon?” he asked incredulously.

“Our lines,” she clarified, a knowing grin on her long snout as she held up her sheet. “All these characters are unnamed. Are we picking our lines, or are you?”

He looked at his group of ten or so, a mix of mostly Pokémon with a few human girls. He glanced at Kendra’s side of the hall, seeing she was already bossing them around. Maybe he should lead by example. “I’ll pick,” he said, looking at his script. Each line was colour-coded for each character, typed out like a transcript in a bland font. “Red looks like they’ve got a lot of words,” he said. “think you can handle that, Sasha?”

“I’m a big girl, of course I can,” she replied. He assigned the rest of the group to a different colour, then had them act out the scene. It was some medieval play with a few sci-fi spins here and there, some of the characters clearly made for the Pokémon specifically, the rest of the generic cast going to the humans. Jim guessed having the dragon burning down the village while talking would be an interesting twist.

After the better part of an hour practicing, Jim called for a break, helping himself to a coffee Amelia the Lapras was glad to make for him. As his group split off to chit-chat, he saw that Sasha was sitting by herself in the stands, her script in hand. If what she’d told him about her and Kendra’s past was true, maybe some of the club was still wary of her. Whatever the reason, he decided to be tactful and walk over.

“You don’t have to commit the lines to memory,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “you heard Kendra, they’re just prototypes.”

“Knowing her, this won’t go through many changes until it’s finished,” the Salazzle replied, not looking away from the paper.

“You were pretty good as Red, by the way,” he continued. “I might just recommend you the part.”

“Is that a compliment?” she asked, deigning to glance up at him. “Red is the villain of the act. She manipulates and schemes, even turns one of the good characters to the dark side. How original.”

“If it ain’t broke,” he said, but the saying seemed lost on Sasha. “I’m just saying it wouldn’t really make sense to have a Lapras or a Sylveon be the bad guy.”

“Oh, and I suppose you think my Type are more suited to being evil, hmm?” Sasha asked, glaring up at him.

He began to shake his head. “Well… I am, yes,” he relented. “But that’s only because you guys can do that stink thing.”

“‘Stink thing’?” She shrugged.

“You know, the whole mind-trick stuff. You know my friend just asked me the other day if Salazzles could really take control of people with their smells.”

“Oh, right, your ‘friend’ wants to know.” She gave him a knowing smile.

“No, really! His name’s Isaac, bit of a dick, anyway as soon as he heard me talk about you he wanted to know if it was a thing, there hasn’t been a Salazzle on the campus in a long time.”

“You were talking about me? I knew I was infectious, but this is quick for a human to be so enamoured.”

“So is it true or not?” he asked, ignoring her comment. He couldn’t tell if Sasha was annoyed or was flirting with him, maybe the lines were blurred for Salazzles.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” she asked, patting the seat beside her. “Sit down.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, wary of whatever she was planning but still moving over to sit beside her, his curiosity overpowering his logic. The leather creaked as he leaned back into the seat, his earlier remark about the chairs confirmed – these were really comfy seats, their size somewhere between an armrest and a coach.

“Calling it a stink is a simplistic explanation,” Sasha explained, crossing one long leg over the other. “Our pheromones are a lot more potent than a humans and even most other Pokémon’s are. And even though your sense of smell is lacking, we can regulate the potency to something your body reacts to all the same. Think of it like changing a thermostat to just the right temperature.”

“And how do you do that?” he asked, his nose twitching as a scent permeated him. Now that he was so close, he realised a certain floral smell lingered around the Salazzle like a perfume. He hadn’t noticed it back when they first met, maybe because she wasn’t making a conscious effort like she was now.

“Like that,” she said, grinning at his reaction. “It’s a hard process to describe to someone who isn’t a Salazzle. Imagine if… you could sweat at will, you could control your pores at will, it’s a little like that, only instead of sweat, it’s my pheromones. It takes a little experimenting to gauge how potent a smell needs to be to influence someone, everyone’s different. It’s just a matter of reading their reactions.”

“So how hard do you have to fart to get me to dance?” he asked, Sasha giggling as she scratched her snout thoughtfully.

“Give me a few minutes and we’ll find out,” she cooed. “I don’t think your dragon friend would appreciate me making you my toy, though.”

“So you can control minds?”

“Not exactly. I can coerce your impulses, but nothing so dramatic. I once made this complete whiskey dick of a guy pour his drink over his friend’s head, but that was only after months of adjusting my pheromones to get just the right scent he couldn’t resist.”

“That’s sick,” he said, not in disgust but in awe. “Can’t be an easy skill to train. Think of all the good grades you could get if you could woo a professor.”

“You sweet boy, Jim, that’s only the tip of the iceberg of what I could do. With time I could influence anyone to do a lot more interesting things. Getting a certain someone to stop ogling a certain Garchomp, for example.”

“And would that certain someone start ogling a certain lizardess with a bad case of BO? Keep dreaming,” he said with a grin. “I’m wearing nose plugs from here on out.”

“Don’t play so hard to get, it won’t do you any favours.”

He found himself laughing along with her, her lilting giggles infectious for some reason. They chatted for a while longer, Jim finding out that Sasha was studying medicine for her subjects, a career her mother was steering her into.

“You could be one of those, ahm, what are they called?” Jim mused. “The people who put patients under before surgery and stuff?”

“An anaesthetist?” Sasha tried.

“Yeah, anesthosi… anesthe… those guys! Only you could just stink all over them and keep them happy, save the docs some money on the gas.”

“Stop calling it that,” Sasha sighed, smiling despite her obvious annoyance. They started talking about himself, but before they got very far they heard footsteps approach, the pair turning to see Cassidy coming over, her heavy feet rumbling the wooden floor.

“What are you doing?” the Garchomp asked, hands planted on her wide hips. “This is rehearsals, not lunch.”

Jim checked his watch, his smile faltering. “Damn, lost track of time. Guess we sh-”

“We’ve already decided our roles,” Sasha interrupted, meeting the Garchomp’s gaze and touching her chest. “I will be bringing this club some much needed beauty and stage presence.”

“How? Got a friend coming in late?” Cassidy asked, Sasha giving her a scowl. Jim glanced between the two Pokémon, not sure who he should look at.

“Simple joke from a simple girl,” Sasha replied. “Who will you be playing, the girl who can’t sing, or the girl who can’t play? Maybe both? If you want to save this club you’ll need more than a stupid banjo to do it.”

“It’s a ukelele, and I don’t think sitting around chatting will help anyone, you’re lucky Kendra hasn’t come over yet.”

“Sure, she might actually have a reason to interrupt us besides your petty interests,” Sasha waved a disinterested hand. Cassidy bared her teeth as she growled, a sound so low Jim felt it more in his bones than in his ears. Sasha likewise exposed her pearly teeth as the two stared each other down.

“Okaaaay,” Jim interrupted, stepping between them. “I think we should get back to it, all of us. Kendra will start flaming out if we’re all out here doing nothing.”

Cassidy immediately hid her teeth from his view, while Sasha took a few moments longer, sighing as she spun on the spot. “Whatever,” the Salazzle said. “Come on, Jim, let’s leave before the teachers pet tells on us.”

Before he followed her back to their group, Jim turned to Cassidy, the dragoness fixing him with an impatient glare. “Everything okay, Cass? We were just talking.”

“She was using her pheromones on you, I could smell them from the other side of the hall.”

He was feeling a little different now that Sasha wasn’t nearby. “Really? I couldn’t smell anything.

“Exactly.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“I guess she was, then. Sorry,” he added, though he wasn’t sure why he did. Was he and Cass a thing yet? She’d given him that lick, they worked together well, he was definitely attracted to her, but did she reciprocate those feelings?

Her expression softened instantly, like the Garchomp knew exactly what he was thinking, quick to change to subject. “How’s the Mythics going?” she asked. “You’ve got a game in two days, right?”

Although she’d made a point of him and Sasha wasting time chatting, it seemed whatever she had to say was more important, not that Jim minded. “Two, yep, another home game. You gonna be there?”

“I believe the cheerleaders go wherever the team goes, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, feeling silly for asking. “I guess I haven’t really thought about that before.”

“I wonder why,” she replied coyly, giving him a playful shove on the arm that turned him towards his group of actors. “Now get back to it, Jim, we’ll talk more after.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

2

With the initial qualifier games weeks behind them, the real meat of the season was coming into play, bringing the attention of more and more people with each game that passed. The stands were close to capacity this time around, the spectators sitting in huge swathes of purples and yellows, the colours duelling for supremacy. There were numerous mums wearing oversized jerseys to show their support for their boys, fathers holding beers as they stood around waiting for the kick-off, and of course, the sisters and brothers who were more interested in their phones than watching their siblings chase balls around.

It wasn’t as popular as the national games one would see on TV, with packed stadiums surrounding consistently mowed grass that met government regulations, but it was still a massive turn out, as the Novas were quite the rival team of the Mythics, second only to the hardened Spartans. In the years prior the Novas and Mythics always had a similar matchup, one never taking a good lead over the other in terms of wins.

“File in everyone,” Mr. Bahril grumbled, the boys plucking at their purple jerseys as they settled in before the whiteboard. Jim had arrived at the change rooms just in time, no drama club holdups unlike last game, something the coach was pleased to see. He had only been yelled at three times since changing.

“As you’re all aware, the Nova’s are our next opponents, and you’ve all smashed them at least three times before,” Mr. Bahril continued, holding up his coloured marker. “But that means they’ve smashed us three times in the past as well! They drove all the way down here with smiles on their faces, so let’s send them back upstate frowning like a bunch of Squidwards.”

With those inspiring words, it was time to play, a round of applause welcoming the Mythics as they jogged onto the field. There was no welcoming banner this time, but the cheerleaders were all Jim could hope for a welcoming committee, set up in a V-shaped pair of lines just outside the change room exit, pom-poms shaking in the air, each strand glittering as they caught the light, their legs pointing in differing angles with all the finesse of ballerina dancers.

To say that Cassidy was the star of the parade need not be said, the Garchomp donning her usual purple tank top and fluffy skirt, the getup barely containing her impressive figure. She flashed him a particularly sultry smile as he jogged by, her skirt revealing portions of her thighs as she rolled her waist from side to side, her dance enthralling him, Jim almost tripping as he forgot what he was supposed to be doing for a second.

Gavin and the Novas captain headed over to the referee, the other team jogging on at roughly the same time, the crowd going suspiciously quiet despite their fair share of Nova supporters. Who won the coin flip was an important factor in any game, but that wasn’t what Jim and the other boys were looking at.

“Uh, guys?” Matty asked. “Look.”

In the middle of the Nova team was a spot of orange, one of the players strolling into view, and unlike the rest of the team, this one wasn’t a human.

An elongated head with two horns sprouting from the back turned its gaze on the Mythics, held upright by a long neck. A pair of thick, muscular arms sprouted from a torso as wide as an engine block, the scales the colour of a setting sun, three clawed fingers rubbing against the palms expectantly. Legs that were comparable to telephone poles shifted on the painted grass, ending in three white talons that dug into the turf with each step.

From its back sprouted a pair of small, blue wings, seemingly disproportionate to the rest of the large creature, flapping like two flags in the wind. What looked like an orange anaconda trailed along the ground behind it, but this was actually the things tail, the very tip of it ignited in perpetual flame.

The Charizard stood a head taller than the rest of the humans, regarding the Mythics with an icy glare. With all the varying capabilities of Pokémon, mixing sports teams with varying Types was a hard thing to balance – a team with a Lucario would fare better than one without one, for example – and ever since Jim could remember sports had been mostly constricted to humans only when it came to official games like this one.

“What the fuck is this, ref?!” Isaac exclaimed, the rest of the Mythics joining in as they complained. “Why the hell does that Charizard have a jersey on?”

It explained why the crowd hadn’t been cheering all that much, Jim turning to see some of the spectators were throwing their hands up in exasperation, some of them shouting out very impolite things directed to the dragon. Did the Nova supporters not know about this either?

“Don’t raise your voice at me,” the referee chided. “We’re here to play, and no rules have been broken. You got a problem with that you deal with it off my field.”

“This is more than a problem, are you stupid?” Isaac asked. “This is complete bullshit, we don’t have a fucking dragon on our side! How come they do?”

“Enough, man,” Jim said, pulling his friend back by the shoulder. “He’ll send you off if you keep swearing at him.”

“This is bullshit,” Isaac repeated. “I’m calling a time out.”

He held his hands up, making the letter T with his hands. The crowd was getting restless, whether because of the delay or the Charizard, it wasn’t clear. Mr. Bahril came jogging over, the older man spry despite his appearance. Matty lifted a hand at him. “Coach did you know about this?”

“No, I didn’t,” Mr. Bahril replied. Jim had never seen him so concerned before, outside of a bad practice session, that is. “I’ve put in a call to the principal, but he’s not answering. I don’t think he’ll want to can the game now, anyway, it’s already started.”

“But what are we supposed to do against that orange fuck?” Isaac asked, his hands flailing in confusion.

“You do what you always do, and kick their asses,” the coach said. “Their whole team could be dragons and it wouldn’t matter, you boys have trained for this. Wherever he goes, back up whoever gets in his way, support each other. You’ve got this, show these Novas not even a Pokémon will help get them to the finals.”

It seemed there was no other choice, and with those final words, the Mythics set up their standard positions, Jim heading to the left sideline, turning to watch the Charizard fall out with his own team. Please don’t come left, please don’t come left, please don’t-

The Charizard took up the left centre, Jim cursing under his breath as he basically faced off against the dragon. He could see Cassidy and the cheerleaders just off to the side, the girls scowling in confusion. When he met Cassidy’s eyes she just shrugged, this whole game had turned on its head, but there was nothing they could do but watch what happened.

The grating noise of the play off siren sounded off from the score box, even the noise sounding out as a sceptical drone, Gavin booting the ball well over to the right. The Novas gradually gave up space for breathing room, but the Charizard held its ground, and Jim stopped in his tracks, a deep fear in his guts keeping him from getting close to the Pokémon. He could crush Jim like a bug, and the Charizard knew it, flashing Jim an irritating grin despite being offside.

The Novas worked up the field after one of them caught the ball, gaining ground every tackle, the ball passing slowly off to the right until it landed in the Charizard’s giant hands, who gunned it for the Mythics centre. Matty and one of the other boys stood bravely in his way, but the Charizard ploughed through them, the boys knocked aside like bowling pins as the dragon dove for the tryline, throwing up its arms in victory as the referee whistled for a successful try.

Matty and the others shouted all manner of obscenities, the referee holding up a defensive hand as they crowded around him to argue, Jim too far away to hear what they were saying. The Charizard high-fived his team as he sauntered over to the sideline, flexing his powerful muscles at the crowd. Some were impressed, but the fanatic Mythic supporters booed him off, yet the dragon’s attention was elsewhere. He was gazing right at the cheerleaders, and he called out to them with his low, rumbling voice.

“Why don’t you girls come cheer on a real team?”

Jim wasn’t a perceptive guy, but he knew the Charizard’s eyes were lingering on Cassidy as he ran back to position, a pang of jealousy swelling up in his chest. He wanted to call out something, but he was too far away, and the crowd was right there – who knew if those government sponsors were here watching right now.

The next kick-off dragged over to the right again, the Mythics trying to keep the ball away from the Charizard. A poor call from the ref cut the advance short, apparently Isaac had forward-passed to someone, and the ball turned over. The Novas passed the ball gently down the field, the Charizard waiting with his claws open, gunning it into Gavin and a few boys who came to intercept, the humans managing to bring the Pokémon down together after the dragon crawled a few extra meters.

On the resets, the Charizard would hang back until he was onside, then the ball would fly into his hands the next tackle. Jim knew what they were doing, the Novas were using the Charizard to spear themselves forward using his sheer brute-force, and there was little the Mythics could do if one of the bigger centres wasn’t there to stop him.

The set continued, the Novas coming right up against the try line, scoring by the limited distance alone as one of the human Novas barreled through, they were down two to none already. As the Novas cheered themselves on, Matty jabbed a finger at one of them. “You’d all be fucked without that orange asshole carrying you, so shut the hell up!”

The Novas cursed Matty back, one of them pushing the Mythic away roughly, Isaac and the others nearby coming to his aid. The two teams exchanged heated words, the referee coming in to break it up. In the next kick-off, the tackles slowly started getting rougher, both the Mythics and the Novas purposefully digging their boots into the other team’s players, feigning ignorance if the ref called them out, grasping for any penalty they could get, things were getting hairy.

Once more the ball found itself in the Charizard’s hands, the Novas pulling to the right, or Jim’s left, the Mythics stepping back into a stronger defence. The Mythic to Jim’s right darted in to stop the charging dragon, but he couldn’t find a grip on the Pokémon’s scaley arm, falling to the ground while the Charizard barrelled through.

Jim found himself in the Charizard’s path, the Pokémon charging him down like an oncoming, orange freight train. Every bone in his body urged him to get out of the way, but if he did they’d be down three to nothing. He had to do something.

Rather than fall back, he would lunge forward, try and stop the dragon in his tracks. That was all well and good, but his legs decided they’d sit this one out, and he just stood there like a deer caught in the headlights of an incoming eighteen-wheeler as the Charizard get closer and closer.

At least his arms went out to brace himself, but all he felt in the next moment was pain. The Charizard led with his shoulder, planting it dead centre in Jim’s chest. It was like he’d been hit with a cannonball, his lungs emptying as he momentarily lost contact with the ground, his limbs trailing after his torso as he was launched backwards, sheer momentum from the dragon sending him flying meters away.

Pain shot up through his spine and neck as he hit the ground, his head snapping onto the dirt a second after. He left a streak mark of upturned dirt in the field, marking his travel path as his momentum slowly drained away, his ears ringing and his vision blurring. He had just enough awareness to sense the Charizard off to his right, slowed down just enough by Jim’s freezing up for another Mythic to intercept, the bodies piling up somewhere nearby.

He grappled at a scaley, orange leg as he flipped over, joining the tackle even as the worst headache he’d ever felt pulsed through his skull. An irritating whistle sounded off nearby, the referee gesturing there had been a knock-on. The Charizard must have dropped it.

The crowd booed and jeered, clearly unimpressed with the display, the Charizard ignoring them as he grinned down at Jim, satisfied with himself. Someone put a hand on Jim’s back, sitting him up, Isaac kneeling beside him as he snapped his fingers.

“Jim? Jim can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Fuck off, dude,” Jim said, slapping his hand away. “I’m…I’m good.” Jim shook his head to clear the dizziness, stumbling to his feet. There was a flurry of blue movement from the side, Jim’s scowl lifting as Cassidy gripped him by the arm.

“My god, are you okay?” she asked. “That looked… very painful.”

“Painful, shmainful,” he slurred, blinking as her face went all blurry. “Don’t remember there being two of you, though…”

“Don’t be such a pussy,” the Charizard grumbled, turning his gaze on Cassidy. There was a certain desire in his reptilian eyes that made Jim feel sick. “Hey, Garchomp, forget this wimp, he’s not worthy of a dragon’s attention.”

“Get lost,” Cassidy snarled, the Charizard shrugging indifferently as he turned away, flexing his muscles for the rest of the cheerleaders as he and his team moved out.

Mr. Bahril called for a time-out, throwing his hands up as he argued with the ref, likely trying to get the Charizard off the field, but the ref wasn’t budging. When the ref signalled for the game to continue, Jim stumbling as he got back to position, the crowd was clearly displeased, booing and shouting, some of them throwing empty cups onto the field.

The two teams didn’t look quite sure if they should keep going or not, a game with a crowd this furious wasn’t a sight many of them had ever seen. The Mythics exchanged glances, even the Novas were shrugging to one another, but after the ref whistled again, more harshly this time, they played ball, their growing distaste for each other fuelling their efforts to win. Luck eventually swung in the Mythics favour, scoring a try as they closed in on half-time, but Jim didn’t feel confident about dashing up the field if and when the ball came to his possession. He was feeling nauseous, random bouts of dizziness coursing through him even when he was standing still.

The clock slowly ticked, and Jim caught the ball when it came his way, dashing for the opening in the Novas defence. The Charizard was there on his right, but power didn’t equal speed for the dragon, and Jim managed to fake out the dragon and dash the other way, the Charizard going down hard as he tried too hard to change his momentum.

The field ahead was clear, but Jim’s foot caught on something. Just before he fell head over heels, he saw that the Charizard had extended his tail out and caught his boot, Jim falling flat on his face as the Novas tackled him down, his growing frustration with the dragon only increasing as he rolled the ball between his legs for the next play.

The ball switched sides with minimal ground gained, and it was only a matter of time before the Charizard barrelled his team through to victory. Each tackle was chased by a push-and-shove bout that got more and more heated with each change over, the Charizard laughing it off all the while as he revelled in his success. Jim hated this dragon, something had to be done, but what? Jim was lighter than the Charizard, way smaller, and they’d run out of time outs to discuss strategy together, what could they do?

Then it came to him, the memory of him and Cassidy walking down to the fields, right after they’d helped out Edwardo with the bullies. She’d said something about dragon’s having a weak spot, but his head was killing him as he struggled to remember what. The horns, that was it! She’d said the hearing drums went right up into them. Consequences be dammed, he had to teach this dragon a lesson.

The next time the Charizard came charging in towards Jim, the young man was ready. If the Novas wanted to play dirty, he’d do the same. He didn’t freeze up this time, Jim stepping to the side as the dragon came running in, angling almost like he wanted to charge Jim down. His horns looked like a pair of bicycle handles jutting from his skull, and that’s exactly how Jim treated them, snapping his hands out to grip the two prongs, and pulling down hard.

He’d watched videos of people pulling the reins on a wild horse, and now he knew how they felt, the Charizard snarling loudly as he tried to buck the human off, rearing into the air as he arched his powerful spine, but Jim’s grip was firm, and he couldn’t believe his eyes as he literally brought a dragon down with nothing but a hard tug.

The ball tumbled away as the Charizard clutched his head, elbowing Jim in the ribs, the young man falling away and thumping to the turf on his ass. Now the dragon looked like how Jim felt, his orange hands clutching his head like he’d suddenly had a migraine, his knees digging into the dirt as he doubled over.

“Who’s the wimp now, huh?” Jim jeered, the Charizard rubbing his temple as he muttered under his breath. It felt good to see the dragon like that, and he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity making him eat his own words.

The Pokémon glared at him, his teeth parting to expose a throat broiling with fire. Before Jim had time to react, the Charizard pounced, rolling on top of him and clocking him in the jaw. Jim’s face exploded with pain, but he managed to brace his arm just in time from a follow-up, vaguely hearing the crowd going hog-wild as he delivered a swift jab into the side of the Charizard’s skull. Sensitive was an understatement, he might as well have crushed the dragon’s brain from the following reaction, the Pokémon growling furiously as he clutched at his face.

He rolled on the ground to try and kick the dragon off him, dirt getting in his eyes as he struggled with the dragon’s horrendous weight. The Charizard gripped his head in both hands, a claw digging into Jim’s mouth and piercing the skin. Jim felt his head rise up, but before the dragon could do any more, someone came flying in from the side. Isaac looked like a diver from Jim’s perspective, torpedoing into the Charizard’s side and sending the both of them falling away, Jim sucking in a breath as the weight on his chest lifted.

His friend started laying into the dragon, another Nova player pulling Isaac off the dragon, proceeding to punch Isaac in the stomach. The rest of the Mythics came in as a tide of flying fists, which the Novas met with their own, like two sides of a medieval battle meeting in the middle, a full-blown brawl beginning right there where the dragon was laying.

Jim didn’t have much time to collect himself, being hauled to his feet by the referee who felt the need to blow his whistle right in Jim’s ear. “You’re off!” the man yelled. “No punching on my field! Break it up, all of you!”

The ref pushed Jim towards the sideline, delving into the team fight and failing to stop it, not that there was much he could do, not after so much growing distaste the teams had for each other.

Holding his head, Jim gave the brawl a wide berth. He wanted to join in, but something was definitely wrong, everything was off tilting left and right, like he could feel the world spinning beneath him, and he felt like he’d throw up any second. His lip stung when he licked it, and he could feel his cold blood on his hot face tricking along his cheek.

Cassidy came running over, and for once Jim didn’t want her around to see him like this. She gripped him by the arm and looked him up and down, her expression hardening as she examined him.

“Your nose,” she said. “Damn it, Jim why’d you hit that Charizard? He could have killed you!”

“Asshole deserved it,” he said, but what actually came out was: “Ass, derves it.” Complete gibberish.

Her face softened as she took his arm into hers, supporting his weight as she led him off the field. “My god. Alright, come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

3

Cassidy brought Jim into the bathroom next to the Mythics locker room, glad to find both of them empty. The Charizard had done a number on him, the way his mangled face stared back at him from the mirror – his nose was bent and bloodied, there was blood trailing from his lip, and he was covered in dirt and sweat. Not to mention his brain feeling like it had been dislocated.

The Garchomp wet a piece of paper beneath the faucet, Jim wincing as she pushed it against his nose. “Don’t move,” she warned, wiping the blood away. “Is this a regular thing for you, Jim? Fighting every guy you come across? First the bullies, now this…”

“You saw how the game was going,” he protested, though there wasn’t much conviction behind his words. “We were getting smashed, and he knew we couldn’t beat him.”

“That’s no reason to get in a fight over some stupid game,” she sighed, glancing at him as her words echoed through the bathroom. “I’m sorry,” she added. “I know this sport means a lot to you, but you shouldn’t have let him provoke you like that.”

“… I know,” he relented. “Hitting another player could get me banned for the season, not to mention those sponsors will hear about this…”

“That’s not what I… never mind.” She dropped the bloodied paper in the sink and fetched a new one. “Hold this on your lip,” she said, passing it to him as she washed her hands. “It was a silly idea I admit, letting a dragon on their team. I had no idea games could get so rough.”

“I… just had to do something, you know?” he said. “The way he was talking to you, a-and what he said…” he trailed off, feeling so stupid. He’d lashed out and what had it gotten him? A bloodied face and a bad rep in front of all those people, including Cassidy. They might not even win the game anyway, to top it all off.

“Said, what?” Cassidy asked, cupping her scaley palm in the water, then rubbing it on his cheek, washing more of his drying blood off.

“The whole thing about a dragon’s attention,” he mumbled. “I saw the way he was looking at you, and I couldn’t just… stand by that.”

“Oh, Jim,” she sighed. “you think just because he’s a dragon like me I’d be into that?”

Jim didn’t even have the dignity to shrug, glaring at the mirror as he scolded himself. Now he had to act like a jealous kid in front of her, good going…

“Dragon couples are very common, more than humans and dragons anyway,” she continued, giving him a timid grin. “But, I think I’m more into humans lately…”

“Huh?” he asked, Cassidy cupping his chin in her clawed hand. She drew him closer, her generous bosom squashing against his chest as their frames pressed together. Angling his head up so that he faced her, she brought his lips to her own, Jim’s heart stopping as she started to kiss him. She did not possess lips in the normal sense, but her scales were flush and as smooth as glass, their texture pleasant against his skin as she gently bit on his lower lip, doing her best to use her snout like a mouth.

She had closed her eyes during the movement, but Jim had not, looking around wildly as she deepened her kiss, too surprised to do any reciprocating on his end.

She broke away, grinning down at him as he regained his senses. He went to speak, sputtering out the first few words before coming to. “D-Do I have a concussion, or did that just happen?”

She giggled, grabbing his hand and washing away the dirt and grime on it. “I don’t know about the concussion, but yes, it did. You were out of line back there, but… you’re sweet, even when you’re doing silly things, and you listen to me. That thing about our horns being sensitive? I didn’t think you’d actually need to use that information. I have to admit some part of me was impressed you brought that Charizard down.”

“Swept him right off his horns,” he chuckled, reaching up to mime the gesture. “if that’s… ow, my head… if that’s what it takes for another one of those kisses, maybe I should fight other guys more often.”

“Please don’t,” Cassidy chided, her words betrayed by her soothing touch as she held his hand in hers. “There are other ways you can get to kiss me, but not now, not while you’re, well…”

“Covered in crap?” he finished for her, the dragoness nodding. Was this really happening? Was this all just a dream sequence like out of the movies, and he’d wake up at home in bed any second now? It had happened before.

But it was real, the kiss, the pain especially, but that felt more like an afterthought right now, Cassidy was all he could think about.

He opened his mouth to speak, but an opening door behind them made the two look around like kids caught snooping around after dark. Mr. Bahril was standing in the doorway, looking between the couple before addressing Jim. “How’s the head, Jim?”

“Numb, like my brain’s full of pop rocks. Feel a little dumber than I usually am, too.”

“I’ll say. You should head down to the sick bay, get checked up. I can’t put you back on even if I wanted to, not after that whole stunt, that asswipe of a referee will make sure you’re off for good.”

“Sorry about that,” he said, not sure what else to say.

“You realise how stupid that was, right? I cannot officially commend you for attacking another student and starting that fight. It was dumb and rash, and now look at you.”

Jim felt humiliated, getting chewed out in front of Cassidy, even despite their kiss, it still felt horrible and embarrasing.

“But you gave that dragon a good ass-kicking, no doubt about that,” Mr. Bahril continued, Jim looking up in surprise. “He won’t be heading onto the field any time soon either, so the boys might still make it through. Don’t worry about the ban, it won’t be forever, maybe the next game or two at most. Think you can make it down to the sick bay? I can call for first aid if you can’t.”

“I’ll make sure he gets there,” Cassidy answered, wrapping his arm in hers, Jim’s face getting warmer.

“Good, thank you.” The coach nodded. “I gotta get back out there, I’ll leave you two to it.” With that, Mr. Bahril left, the door slowly closing behind him.

“Maybe he’s not so scary after all,” Cassidy mused, elbowing him in the side. “Looks like I get the rest of the day off with my new boyfriend once we get you fixed up.”

“B-Boyfiend?” he slurred, a moment of pain making him fumble his words.

“Boyfiend?” she snickered. “That sounds like a name of a monster,” She giggled as he internally chastised himself for sounding stupid once more. “And yes, that’s what I said, kind of. Remember the last fifteen seconds? Maybe you do have a concussion.”

“N-No. As in, no I remember.”

“Well?” she asked. “You’ve shown me a good time already, and I want to go further. And I think you do, too. So what do you say, Jim? You want to be boyfiend and girlfiend?”

She was teasing him, but not in a bad way. She could literally make him the butt of a joke right now and he wouldn’t care, he always liked it when she laughed, there was just something about it that sent his heart racing.

“I’d like that,” he said, perhaps the most normal thing he’d ever said to the dragoness since they’d met. Not like his very first words to her: Hi, I’m okay. Thank the lord she seemed to find his severe charismatic handicap humorous.

“I would too,” she said.

Chapter 7

Life’s a Beach

1

This wasn’t the first time Jim had limped his way to the sick bay, so the first aid staff didn’t need to know what he’d been doing to earn such a beating.

After they disinfected his cuts and applied a few band aids, one of the staff flashed a light in his eyes after Jim clutched his head as a headache rolled through his frontal lobe. “I think you’ve bitten off more than you can chew this time, Jim,” the woman said, clicking her flashlight off.

“I just need some aspirin,” he replied, waving an arm.

“Oh really? Tell me your date of birth, then.”

“Easy. It’s March, uh, seven– I mean eighth! Two thousand– no, nineteen… eighty… something? I think?”

“It’s as I thought. You’re lucky your symptoms only seem to be mild, but I’m positive you’re suffering from a concussion.”

Cassidy gave him a concerned look from the other side of the room, the dragoness sitting on the very edge of the couch placed there, her long tail coiled round one of her stout legs. The sick bay reflected the campus budget, combining both the waiting and operating room into the same space. There was a patient’s bed in the corner that looked like the most uncomfortable thing in the world, a bin full of old magazines by some chairs, and a potted plant made of plastic. At least it was quiet, Jim’s ears were ringing from just the wind alone on their way up from the field.

“Cool,” Jim said. “so can I get outta here, or…?”

“Absolutely not. You’re going to lie down for a while, and I’m going to call your parents and tell them what has happened. I know what you’re going to ask, and the answer is no, you won’t be playing anymore sport until I deem you’ve fully recovered.”

“How long will that take?”

“A couple of weeks, perhaps a month without sports, to be on the safe side. That’s for you own good.”

“But,” Jim started to protest, but the nurse held up a hand, shaking her head like a chiding mother. He supposed he wouldn’t be any good on the field with this killer headache, but it still felt horrible to be sidelined, that stupid Charizard was probably laughing it up at his expense right now.

The woman turned to Cassidy. “Make sure he doesn’t go wandering off while I’m gone.”

“He’s done that before?” the dragoness asked, her curiosity besting her worry.

“They all do. I swear that game drives the boys crazy.”

“You don’t get it, Miss,” Jim said. “you’re not a Mythic.”

The Garchomp giggled behind her hand as the nurse shook her head, the woman closing the door behind her as she left. Jim got to his feet, eyeing the patient bed with a frown. There wasn’t even a sheet on it, it was like a dentists chair.

“You heard the nurse,” Cassidy asked, Jim looking round to see her patting the space beside her. “No walking around.”

“Yeah yeah, I heard.” His feet dragged as he made his way over, turning round and flopping down on the couch next to her. The leather was cool where it touched his skin, creaking loudly as he shuffled to get comfortable.

“Did you really?” Cassidy asked, tilting her head. “She said to lie down, that’s sitting.”

“But you’re…” he gestured at her, taking a second to try and word it lightly. “but so are you.”

“So?” she chuckled. “Lie back, use my lap.”

She tapped her left thigh, her flesh rippling with the movement, visible even through her skirt. “O-Okay,” he stuttered, turning his back on her as butterflies swarmed in his chest. Even though they were an official thing after what she’d said in the bathroom, he was still nervous about being so close for some reason.

He draped his legs over the opposing armrest, lowering his head until his scalp touched her leg. Despite being made of scales, her flesh dimpled wonderfully as he laid back, like her leg was a giant, off-blue pillow.

“This is ni– ow.” He went to look up at her as he spoke, and his forehead bumped right into one of her thorns that poked out of the scales above her knee.

“Right, watch out for my thorns,” she warned, a little late, but Jim didn’t care. “Things always get in the way.”

“They’re not so bad,” he said, reaching up to rub one between his fingers. With his head on her leg his prior reservations seemed to have departed, or maybe the concussion was messing with him. Either way, their texture reminded him of those plastic prop skeletons one would find in a science lab, the horn giving just a little when he pushed. “they make you… you, does that make sense?”

“N-Not really,” Cassidy replied, breathing in sharply like she’d seen a ghost. He titled his head up at her, releasing his hand.

“Sorry, did that hurt?”

“No,” she said. “That felt good. No one except me touches them, and your fingers are softer than mine…”

He guessed they might have been packed with nerve endings if his dragon anatomy was anything to go by. “Please, do it again,” she said.

Jim reached up again, his strokes growing more elaborate the more she encouraged him. Humans had sensitive spots, maybe this was a Garchomps equivalent, if any of her expressions were to go by.

He soon draped an arm over his eyes as he rested, Cassidy returning the favour by running her claws through his hair, pressing just hard enough against his scalp without cutting him. For a while they just sat there, his head on her lap as he enjoyed her company. His head cleared up just enough for the whole situation to dawn on him.

“This sucks,” he blurted out, shaking his head. Cassidy stopped stroking his scalp. “Th-The whole concussion thing I mean,” he added quickly. “I should’ve just moved out of the way, now I’m out for the next couple of games at least.”

“You need the rest,” Cassidy said. “you’ll just make it worse if you go out and get smacked around again if you haven’t healed properly.”

“But the guys need me,” he said. “and I need them. Without the games I’m just… some dumb guy who can’t think straight. The sponsors’ll look right over me.”

His head sagged to the side as he sulked, his frustration only growing as he hit his head against the thorn again.

“Don’t start with that,” Cassidy said, gripping his chin in her scaley hand, turning his head so that they were eye to eye. “Even the national players get knocked out every once in a while. You’ll bounce back, you just need to relax.”

“But-”

She cut him off as she pressed her mouth against his, her tongue slipping between her triangular teeth and entangling with his own. She locked him in an upside-down kiss that made him dizzy in more ways beside the concussion. She demonstrated the flexibility of her tongue by lapping at his palate at angles he hadn’t thought were possible, her saliva melding with his as she tried to make her snout and his mouth compatible. Her flexible neck writhed like a snake as she animated her kiss, her crimson scales drawing his gaze further down to her bust, hanging tantalizingly above his forehead at this angle.

If her kiss wasn’t a sex act, then he wasn’t the Mythics left wing, his spine arching as she lapped at his throat. When she finally noticed he was struggling for oxygen, she relented, pulling back with a big grin on her face, their lips connected by a few lingering strands of saliva.

“There, relaxed yet?” she asked, grinning as his red face.

He nodded silently, all his worries seeming to have melted away. “W-Where’d you learn to kiss like that?” he asked.

“Internet,” she said, not deigning to add anything more.

The door whooshed open, the couple looking up to see a trio of faces staring back. Jim and Cassidy’s expressions were like two kids being caught behind the bleachers smoking dubies, not because they were ashamed of their feelings for each other, but just by sheer surprise along.

“Evening, you two,” Isaac said, grinning stupidly at the duo. “Bout time you made a move Jimmy.”

Even though Cassidy had been the one to initiate, Jim didn’t correct him, looking over to see Matty, Gavin, and some of the other Mythics behind Isaac. A couple of them had a few black eyes and a share of bruises, Isaac himself sporting a nasty cut on his left cheek. “The heck happened to you guys?” he asked.

“We had ourselves a major tussle after you got sent off,” Isaac explained. “Didn’t you see?”

“Oh, right,” Jim said, his memory like fog slipping through his fingers. “Thanks for getting that Charizard off me.”

“Fucker got me good,” Isaac said, pointing at his damaged face. “but not as bad as we got him. He stumbled right off to his coach and never came back.”

“Good riddance,” Matty spat. “If we hadn’t gotten him, I reckon the crowd would have eventually. They weren’t happy even after he left.”

The Mythics piled in, each one politely nodding to Cassidy, Jim raising off her lap to slap hands with his teammates. He told them about what the nurse had said, and how he’d be out for a while. “No shit, you got some major whiplash back there,” Isaac said. “at least you got a dragoness to keep you company. Thanks Cass, by the way.”

“For what?” she asked.

“For hooking up with this knucklehead, he really needs this.”

“You’re a dickhead,” Jim grumbled. “Anyway what happened with the game? Did we win?”

“We were up by two points at full time,” Matty said. “After we sent that orange dick packing we whipped it back, got the win.”

Jim sighed with relief, they hadn’t been knocked out of the season. With any luck there wouldn’t be anymore Pokémon axillaries or whatever the term was, hopefully Mr. Bahril could do something to make sure of it.

“You guys shouldn’t be so mean,” Cassidy chided, the Mythics grunting in confusion as they turned to her. “You’re all going on like beating that Charizard up was a good thing.”

“Well he started it,” Isaac shot back. “It’s called the humans league for a reason.”

“Yeah, he charged Jim down on purpose,” Matty added. “What else were we supposed to do?”

Cassidy folded her arms. “Nothing,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Jim asked, when she didn’t elaborate.

“Do nothing,” she said again. “Protest. Don’t give the ref, crowd, or anyone a game, that would have gotten a reaction. If you’d all refused to play, the Charizard wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and Jim wouldn’t have ended up here in the sick bay.”

The boys exchanged confused looks between each other, some of them coming to terms with Cassidy’s logic. “Well whatever,” Isaac said with a shrug. “What’s done is done. I reckon we should celebrate for such a close win!”

The boys nodded in agreement, Isaac asking Jim if he wanted to go, but Cassidy put her hand on Jim’s shoulder, clearly not on board. “You all look like you’ve just finished a tavern brawl, and you want to go out? Jim needs to stay and rest.”

“Doesn’t have to be today,” Isaac replied. “Maybe tomorrow? Supposed to be a nice crisp sunny day, perfect for a beach party.”

That got everyone in agreement, the Garchomp turning her eyes up as she considered it. “Can I invite the drama club?” she asked.

“Is a Froakie’s ass watertight? Fuck yeah invite the ladies out, time to get some.”

“It’s a very strong maybe,” Cassidy continued, turning back to Jim. “we’ll see how you feel first, right Jim?”

“I’m down for some beach volleyball or something,” Jim replied enthusiastically.

“Jim,” Cassidy growled.

“Alright, fine, rest first,” he relented, his cheeks burning as a couple of his friends snickered at the one-sided argument.

“Fresh, salty air will do you good, dude,” Isaac said, he turned and waved an arm, like a general rallying his troops. “Alright boys I think we should leave these two to it, let’s go get changed.”

One by one, the Mythics filed out of the room, Isaac flashing Jim a wink as he was the last to leave. Cassidy reached down her top when they were all gone, her hand disappearing up to the wrist in her bountiful cleavage, Jim giving her a sideways glance that was a mix between alarm and curiosity.

Before if he could ask if he was dreaming, her hand came back into view, her phone clutched in her claws. She caught him staring and giggled. “Where else am I supposed to put it?” she asked, but Jim couldn’t think of anything witty to say, watching as she flicked open the casing. “I’ll see if Kendra wants to go, she’s been looking forward to a break for a while now, and it’ll be fun trying out that swimsuit you picked out for me.”

The memory of their shopping spree felt like the epitome of nostalgia, his scalp tingling as the realisation that he no longer had to imagine her in that thing, that it would become reality not to long from now, so long as he kept his concussion in check.

“You can say that again,” Jim muttered. He lay back down on the couch, his male urges fuelling him on for a swift recovery.

2

Jim only threw up three or four times the following night after his father drove him home, but the purifying of his system made him feel loads better, and his growing anticipation of a beach gathering with his two favourite clubs drew him crazy as he stayed cooped up inside. Cassidy sent him a text asking if he was good to come, and after relaying the news to his father, the old man frowned before answering.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, not in your state.”

Jim felt like a kid again, like all those times he cursed in front of his parents, or committed some other grave sin that had earned him a grounding in the past.

“But all my friends are going,” he said. “Including Cass.”

That got his dad’s attention, the old man peering up at him over the lip of the newspaper he was reading. “Really? Well… I guess that would be fine. I’ll drive you down, you’re not walking all that way.”

Jim hadn’t told his father about his new girlfriend, but perhaps he didn’t have to, parents had ways of figuring things out without blatant explanations. He texted Cassidy that he was on his way, his thumbs hitting a few wrong letters but he didn’t care, hitting the send button.

After packing some essential and dressing up in his favourite pair of board shorts and a loose t-shirt, they got in the car and rolled out of the driveway. Isaac had been right, the sun was shining through a cloudless sky, a little on the bright side, but that was nothing a pair of sunglasses couldn’t solve. The streetside palm trees waved in the breeze as they drove toward the coast, the dense urban areas giving way to the commercial areas and the waterside parks, the ocean coming into view after another turn.

The white sands looked brighter than normal in the harsh light, almost like someone had upped the gamma correction on every single grain. The water was a pleasant teal colour, clear enough he could spy colourful clusters of seaweeds at just the right angle. The waves were rough and frequent, lapping at the swimmers lingering in the shallows, while people on surfboards cruised along the water further out.

All of this was framed by the Rainbow Isles, large bubble-shaped islands blocking parts of the horizon, the closest one maybe two hundred meters out from the mainland. They were bristling with palm trees and tropical ferns, and while some of them had wooden docks coupled with small fishing huts, they were otherwise untouched paradises.

The car rolled into an empty parking spot, Jim waving his father goodbye as he made his way down a ramp toward the beach, passing a family trying to desperately clean their bodies of sand using a showerhead. He scooted by a pair of Gardevior’s, towel and bag in hand as his flip-flops slapped onto the sand.

There were people in both directions, the beach packed with humans and Pokémon in a roughly even amount, but Jim had spent enough time with the drama club to pick out the distinct individuals, and after a short wander up the coast following Cassidy’s texted instructions, he saw some familiar faces.

Amelia and Jasmine were laying down on a pair of towels sunbathing, Isaac and Matty nearby trying to chat them up. He could see Kendra was passing a volleyball to Gavin, the two going back and forth in a game of catch. Unlike everyone else, the Typhlosion wasn’t wearing swimwear, wearing a loose shirt and knee-long shorts that were billowy enough to protect her from the heat. Most of the Mythics and the drama club were gathered nearby, the humans and Pokémon mingling as they shared a pile of golden chips between them, the paper wrapping threatening to blow away with each gust of wind. It looked like Jim was one of the last to show up.

The sun not doing his headache any favours, he dropped his gear next to Jasmine, the Sylveon waving up at him in greeting. His arrival quickly spread, his friends coming up, the Pokémon asking how he was feeling, word must have spread about his brawl with the Charizard.

“Here’s the man of the hour,” Isaac said, slapping Jim on the shoulder. “I should be thanking you, man, I’ve never been around so much Poké-puss before, look at what the Lapras is wearing!”

“The only way you’ll get to see any,” Jim added with a chuckle, Isaac shooting him a frown.

Something caught Jim’s attention, and he looked up to see Gavin pass the volleyball over to someone else. He recognised the Salazzle immediately, Sasha sporting the smallest black bra he’d ever seen, the material lacey and revealing, her teardrop-shaped breasts fighting against the tight straps. Her stomach was like a magnet to his eyes, he’d seen her belly before back during her introduction rehearsal, but it was on full display now, and he was surprised to see there were pink lines decorating her midriff scales, perfectly mirrowed to either side of her navel. They curled in exotic shapes across her stomach, almost like war paint, following the natural curves of her hourglass hips, drawing his eyes down to her groin as if that was their very intention, to entice. They disappeared beneath the black waistband of her swimwear, the patterns hooking like arrows that literally directed the viewer to her privates. Her two-piece bikini was the exact same shade as the dark parts of her scales, making her appear like she wasn’t actually wearing anything.

Both Jim and Isaac stared like idiots at her, and Sasha winked at them as if she had sensed their combined gaze, passing the ball in a way that came off as suggestive. “That Salazzle’s going to make me act up in a minute,” Isaac mumbled, echoing Jim’s thoughts.

She moved their way, volleyball under one arm as she placed one foot in front of the other like a model walking down a runway. She chucked the ball at Jim, but he’d been too distracted by her rolling hips, the thing bouncing off his head with a quiet donk sound, the young man blinking like he’d just woken up. She hadn’t thrown it hard, but it almost sent him reeling if Isaac hadn’t been there to catch him.

“Here’s the dragonslayer,” Sasha chuckled. “I wish I had been there to see it, I heard you gave the Charizard quite the thrashing.”

“Ah, it was nothing,” Jim replied, taking Isaac by the arm as a wave of dizziness came and went. He adjusted his sunglasses “Fell like a sack of potatoes.”

“You, or the dragon?” Isaac murmured.

“I’m going to work on my tan, care to join me, Jim?” Sasha put a hand on her shapely hip as she nodded behind her. “You can tell me all about how you dominated someone twice your size.”

Jim opened his mouth to reply, but Sasha squinted at something behind Jim, her eyes flicking from his. He turned to look that way, and his jaw dropped even lower than when he saw Sasha in her bikini.

It was Cassidy, and she was wearing that swimsuit he’d bought her all those weeks ago. The green material covered her waist, stomach and chest, and nothing more. There was less of her visible compared to Sasha, but her flush, scaley hide was only the more enticing by its concealment, each individual scale glinting as they caught the light, she was shining like a freshly waxed car.

The spandex was so tight it looked like it was painted onto her, the subtle paunch of her belly perfectly outlined, the edges of the swimsuit creasing into the natural folds of scales where her legs joined to her hips, creating an alluring v-string that covered her crotch.

The inner surface of her thighs were open to the air, soft but muscular at the same time, the amount of muscle packed into her lower body meaning there was no gap between her thighs, the young man’s expression the exact same one as the time he saw a boob for the first time.

Looking up, her hips tapered in towards her stomach, her hourglass-shape only magnified by the impossibly tight attire. A deep cut in the neck split the suit open down the middle, exposing the crimson-coloured, flat gap between her breasts in its glorious entirety. Two straps hooked over her shoulders, her white thorns adding an exotic touch to her already impressive entrance.

Her generous rump rolled from side to side as she walked over, her hips swaying like a pendulum Jim’s eyes just couldn’t get enough of. Her muscular tail trailed in the sand behind her, leaving a long groove, a cut in the material just above her rump allowing the appendage to sway freely.

He finally gained enough sense to meet her eyes, her pupils as yellow as the five-pointed star plastered over her forehead, the pattern glinting like its namesake as the sun shined down on her.

“No, he wouldn’t,” Cassidy answered, meeting Sasha’s eyes as she came over and held his arm in both of hers in a way that came off as possessive. “He’s got a girlfriend.”

There was a moment Sasha looked taken off guard, but she quickly recovered, her grin returning as her gaze swapped from Cassidy back to Jim. “Well well, looks like I’m late to the party. Pity, I would have waited until the boy made the first move, but someone got impatient. I wonder why…”

“I’m sure my friend Isaac here will take your offer up,” Jim said, pushing his friend in the Salazzle’s direction. “He clocked the Charizard right after I did, saved my ass.”

“Hm. Really?” Sasha asked Isaac. Despite his constant bravado and obsession with pussy, Isaac looked a little flustered being so close to the Salazzle.

“Oh yeah, big clocker!” Isaac said, hands up in demonstration as he mimed a punch. Jim could tell Sasha didn’t care for boasting, the way she closed her eyes and sighed through her nostrils. “we taught the Novas they’ll need more than a Pokémon to beat us.”

“I agree about the Charizard suddenly joining,” Jasmine said, rolling over to join the discussion, flicking her ribbons out of her face. “but, what if there were Pokémon teams? You reckon you guys could still win?”

“Hell yeah we would,” Isaac said. “Maybe not a whole Charizard team, but yeah, no sweat.”

“You’ve changed your tune since the game,” Jim noted, his friend shrugging.

“Knocking that dragon around did wonders for my confidence.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” Sasha laughed, scooping to pick up the ball. “If you think humans could even stand a chance against a group of us, prove it, drama club verse the Mythics, right here. Beach volleyball.”

“I brought the nets,” Kendra added, gesturing at a bundle of poles nearby. The response was generally mixed, the Mythics present murmuring their reservations. “Come on, boys,” Kendra teased. “afraid you’ll get beaten by a bunch of girls? I thought you were the sporting types.”

“I’m down,” Matty said, raising a finger. “-but no superpowers! Fireballs, earthquakes, charms, things like that. I’m looking at you, Jasmine.”

“Like we’d need them,” Kendra scoffed. “but very well, Gavin help me set the net up.”

As the groups stood up and got ready, Cassidy squeezed Jim’s arm to get his attention. “How about it, Jim?” she asked. “Do you feel up for a game? You look a bit better than yesterday…”

“Sounds like you’re trying to keep me off,” he replied. “get an edge on us humans.”

“Oh ho!” Cassidy chuckled. “Don’t think just because we’ve hooked up I’ll go easy on you!”

She punched him playfully on the arm, moving over to the Pokémon team. Seeing the Mythics and some of the human girls gearing up, he shrugged off his bag and put his sunglasses away, rolling his sleeves up as he joined his fellow humans. Isaac thrust a bottle of sunscreen in his hands. “Sun safety guys!” he announced. “We’re not covered in scales or shells like those ladies.”

As the humans slathered themselves in sunscreen, Kendra and Gavin set up a volleyball net in the sand, Sasha drawing the boundary lines in the sand with her clawed feet.

There were about eight people per side with a mix of both genders, with the girls slightly more numerous than the boys. Although the Mythics didn’t really know the drama club girls much, the fact they were all human brought with it a sense of comradery, quickly working out what positions they wanted to be in. Jim set up to serve, hanging as far away from the net as he could – he’d had enough of close-contact for now and wanted to take things a bit easier.

Across the sand, the Pokémon team were a little less coordinated as they set up. Kendra was eager to take the initiative, but Sasha made her displeasure obvious by rolling her eyes at her. Bernard lumbered over to the net, rolling his armoured shoulders as he set up to defend, they’d have a hard time getting the ball past his big shell, but that was the point of all this, wasn’t it? To see who was better?

“Alright everybody!” Gavin said, taking up on the right and raising his voice like an announcer. “Let’s keep this game clean! No crossing over the net, no elements, and no ramming into other players! That means you, Jim.”

The groups laughed, Jim shaking his head as he readied to serve. He decided to throw the volleyball over his head then smash it down the beach, and immediately regretted it. All the movement was making his head spin, it was like there was a headache lingering in the back of his skull, coming out and frying his brain whenever he moved too much. Maybe he’d stick to underhand next time.

The ball sailed over the net well enough, Sasha bouncing on the spot as it came her way. Her forearms glued together, she hit the ball directly up before it hit the ground, Jasmine moving in to set it. Amelia smashed it back over the net, but Gavin was ready, the humans doing their own dance as they set up to slam it back.

The volleyball arched back to the Pokémon team, close enough to the sideline it might have gone out if it ever hit the sand, but Cassidy ran to intercept. From this angle she was running side-on to him, and he got an amazing view of her profile. Did her rump really stick out that far, or was it just her swimsuit making her curves stand out? Her butt was like two orbs chiselled from stone, so pert that they just barely wobbled with her gait. The way her getup concealed exactly half of her generous pair of cheeks, sent Jim’s thoughts into an adolescent frenzy.

The ball went back over the net, and fell to the sand, Jim taking longer than he should have to process the ball before reacting. He dove and sent the volleyball away with inches to spare, saving a hard landing by holding his arms out. Grains of sand splashed up in his face, his brain reeling from the sudden motion.

Isaac slammed the ball, Bernard using his forehead to stop the ball dead in its tracks. The big guy took up a lot of room, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop it hitting the ground, the first point going to the humans.

On the next set, Jim served underhand, his own bias sending the ball Cassidy’s way. Their eyes met through the mesh of the netting, the Garchomp’s mouth curling in a grin. She shifted her hips and crouched down into a stance, something about her pose oddly mesmerising.

Rather than set, she met the ball early, her palm slapping it down at the ground in front of Jim, her body nothing more than a blur of blue scales. The next thing he knew, the volleyball rolled to a stop between his feet.

While his team ribbed him, Cassidy was chuckling, squashing the ball against her belly as he sent it her way.

“Maybe you’re not up for this after all,” Cassidy teased.

“Hey I wasn’t ready!” he said. The dragoness just laughed at him, Jim’s pride not allowing him to give in just yet. “Try that again, this time I’ll be ready.”

“Whatever you say,” she said. “I’m serving it straight to you next round.”

It was very bold of her to say, but she was a dragon, and he hadn’t seen much of her competitive side yet. Sure enough, when it was the Pokémon’s turn to serve, Cassidy was there to send it his way. There was something about how she underhanded it towards him that came off as her going easy on him, Jim true to his word as he was ready to send it to his teammates.

The ball went over the net once more, Kendra hitting it slowly up to set, and Cassidy moved in like a bolt of blue, scaley lightning. Her long legs sprang into action, her muscles tensing beneath the thin fabric of her swimwear, propelling her a good meter into the air as she smashed the ball over the net. The ball sailed between the human front line and landed conspicuously near Jim’s position.

She must have done this before, even Sasha stared on in amazement as she carried the Pokémon into the lead. Cassidy caught his eyes with her own once more, intense and distracting, grinning her challenge that only she and him were completely aware of. “Come on, Jim,” she called. “I thought you were good at sports.” She strolled away and high-fived Kendra, her hips swaying as Jim stared directly at her ass.

Then it clicked, she knew he was ogling her, and was using that to her advantage. It was like a page right out of Sasha’s book. Well, two could play at that game.

“Alright,” he said, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head. The sun was making the garment sticky with his sweat, so he chucked it over his shoulder as he rolled his neck, a thin layer of perspiration making his torso shine in the light. “No more Mr. Nice Jim.”

He traded spots with the girl right up against the net, his lack of clothes above the waist leaving nothing to the imagination. Cassidy’s smile faltered as her eyes trailed down to his chest, Jim grinning as he started pec-bouncing. He had a strict workout regime due to his interest in sport, but what did Cassidy make of it, he wondered?

Some of his Mythic buddies cat-called him, even the Pokémon adding in their own woops, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to find out their specific reactions. He wanted to get at least one up on Cassidy, neither himself or the Mythics would forgive him if he didn’t.

Cassidy sent the ball into the backline, Matty and Isaac setting for Jim. He did his best to imitate the pro-leagues, jumping up to meet the ball and sending it Cassidy’s way. Jim’s head felt like ice as he delivered the slam, but he stayed on his feet. Sasha leaped for the ball before the dragoness reacted, Bernard fumbling as he just managed to tap the ball over the net.

The humans set, one of the girls slamming it back into Kendra’s waiting arms. Jim saved the ball from touching the sand, sending it towards Isaac who smashed it back as hard as he could. The ball nicked the net, its momentum shedding rapidly as it tumbled to the ground, but Cassidy ploughed forward into the sand like a dolphin diving into the water, her face skimming the sand as her arms kept the volleyball off the ground.

Jim wouldn’t let up, reaching over the net and sending the ball back. He skimmed the top of the mesh with his fingers, but nobody noticed since the rally was growing more and more tense with each slam and near-miss.

He’d aimed at Cassidy to make a point, but the Garchomp was ready even as she lay there in the sand. Her tail flicked up from between her legs, the ball hitting the spot just between the twin fins on the very tip of the appendage. She used it like a racket to hit it back, so Jim used his head to stop it, the ball grazing over his forehead as he flinched on instinct.

He had to stop using his skull as a shield against balls, the pain was killing him. They played on anyway, Gavin setting, Jim and a human girl making to return. Sasha and Cassidy met with their defence, jumping up with their hands raised. Sasha blocked with a desperate fling of her claw, and the ball seemed to float idly between the four of them.

Jim pulled his arm back to slam, but Cassidy had the exact same idea, and their hands hit the ball at what looked like the exact same time. With their momentum falling, they all plunged to the sand, along with the ball. It landed on the beach with a puff of sand, but Jim hadn’t seen whose side of the net it passed.

Kendra raised her arms in exasperation, and Jim got his answer. He felt like he’d run a marathon even though all he’d done was win one point, and only to bring the score to a tie at that.

He wiped at his damp hair with a hand, a shadow looming over him a moment later. He looked up to see Cassidy grinning down at him, her expression softer than before. Her chest was rising and falling beneath her swimsuit, her soft laugh reaching his ears as she offered him her arm. With the sun blaring just over her thorny shoulder, she’d look right at home on the front of a swimming magazine.

“I take it back, you’re not bad at all,” Cassidy said, bringing Jim to his feet. She ran her claws up his arm, her touch sending a pleasant down his limb. “You humans have got stamina, I’ll give you that. Going again?”

“Later,” he said through gasping breaths. “My head is killing me after that. Call it a draw?”

A flash of worry washed over her expression, his condition must have slipped her thoughts, but his smile seemed to reassure her. “Deal,” she said. As she turned to re-join the game, her tail brushed against his hip for a little longer than it should have to be called accidental.

His skin warming in the sun, he sat down on his towel next to one of the net poles, a strange sensation overcoming him as his interest in the contest slowly waned. He’d never been sidelined for so long in any game, ever, and he hated the feeling, and the fact his concussion would lengthen his time off the field only despaired him further.

Over time it seemed that Sasha’s hostility towards Kendra and Cassidy started to wane, the Pokémon working together to try and beat the humans. It might only be temporary, but their shared desire to compete was overpowering their prejudices, and it brought a smile to his face to see them work together, temporary as it was.

He blinked as the Pokémon team scored another point, Sasha raising a victorious fist while the humans sulked. Maybe Jim should join back in despite his headache, he would have saved that round if he’d been on.

… Damn, was he always an asshole while on the bench, or just all the time? He’d have to do something about that if he wanted to be a boyfriend for any longer than a few days. Looking back, maybe he’d always been that way. Edwardo and the bullies was probably the most jarring thing, he couldn’t believe he’d been so impartial to it. A part of him felt that Cassidy was maybe too good for him, since she’d been the one to force him to stand up to them.

The groups soon grew too tired to carry on, and with nobody keeping an official timer on, the game ended with the Pokémon one point up on the humans, but the score was irrelevant compared to the fun they’d shared – except for Kendra, who made sure to have the last word in and remind everyone who won.

“Anyone got any spare water?” Sasha asked, dunking the rest of her bottle over her snout after taking a sip. The liquid made her dark scales sparkle like polished ebony.

“Do you one better,” Isaac replied. The group watched him curiously as he tossed his towel off from a conspicuously large bulge in the sand. While everyone had brought bags and umbrellas, Isaac had brought along a cooler. He flipped open the lid and reached inside, the distinct sound of rattling ice cubes rising over the crashing waves nearby. He pulled out two bottles and tossed one to the Salazzle, who caught it with both hands. As she looked over the label her expression shifted from suspicion to eagerness.

“Beer?” she said, using her nail rather than the bottle opener Isaac offered her. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Isaac passed around a bottle to everyone, one soon being pressed into Jim’s hands. It seemed the group was in high spirits and were eager to relax, glass clinking together as the Pokémon and humans split into groups, spreading their towels out on the sand to get comfortable.

“What should we toast to?” Kendra asked, sitting to Jim’s left and twisting off the bottlecap. “That Pokémon are better?”

“Better at volleyball, sure,” Matty added, plonking down opposite her. “How about to Jim’s thick head? It’s saved us multiple times now.”

“I’d drink to that, if I could,” Jim replied, looking down at his drink. It probably wasn’t a good idea to get buzzed in his state. Cassidy knew he was brash, impulsive, and got in a lot fights – he shouldn’t add irresponsible to that list. “You drink for me, Cass.”

The Garchomp was on his right, leaning on her left thigh while her legs pointed behind her. He passed her his bottle and she smiled at him, her tail swiping across the sand to slap him on the butt.

“I suppose one more couldn’t hurt,” she replied, raising both her beers. “To Jim’s skull!”

“To Jim’s skull!” everyone echoed, Jim drinking from his water bottle so he could be a part of the toast. It made him feel a little sidelined, but he didn’t have to be drunk to have a good time.

“So have you Mythics ever won a season?” Sasha asked, the Salazzle sitting opposite Jim. She was leaning on her side much like Cassidy was, her eyes drifting to each boy present.

“Twice, but they were before my time,” Isaac replied.

“See any connection there, dude?” Gavin asked, shielding his face and laughing as Isaac tossed some sand at him.

“Fuck you, do you even do anything as the captain besides the coin flip? And you don’t even actually flip the coin, anyway!”

“Someone has to keep you all in line,” Gavin replied. “But to answer your question, Sasha, we haven’t. We’ve gotten to the semi-finals, what, three times? But nobody remembers the runner-ups.”

“I’ll say,” Kendra added. “I’ve been in many recitals where not even the second or third placers get a part, you’re bound to lose when only one person wins.”

“And now you’re on the other side of the process,” Sasha noted. “And I think you enjoy it.”

Kendra glared at the Salazzle, but held her tongue. Cassidy took a swig from her drink and gestured at no one in particular with it. “Who’s been a Mythic the longest?” she asked. “Is it you, Jim?”

“We all joined roughly the same time,” he replied. “but I think Gavin’s got a few months on us all.”

“In more ways than one,” Gavin said. “Unlike you guys, I’ve actually seen a final’s game, years ago. I remember you couldn’t kick for shit when you started, Isaac, and now look at you, you’re… well. You’re here now.”

“Fuck you, make me captain next game, I wanna sit back and boss us around even though we all know what we’re doing.”

“Being a leader is more than just bossing people,” Kendra said, turning her eyes to Gavin. “At least there’s one Mythic here who’s realised that. How do you keep these males in line?”

“Charisma, plain and simple.” Gavin shook his bottle. “Wait until I get a few of these in me, and you might get a more private example.”

Kendra lifted an eyebrow at him, Cassidy giving Jim a nudge and lowering her voice to a whisper.

“I haven’t seen Kendra flirt with a guy in a long time.”

“That’s her flirting?” Jim asked, smirking at the dragoness. “She’s just talking to him.”

“Exactly.”

They drank the hours away, celebrating something, whether that be the volleyball game, the Mythics win against the Charizard, or the hall becoming a building fit for a proper theatre club. Perhaps some combination of the three. The Mythics could drink hard, but the Pokémon were giving even the best of them a run for their money, the sun lowering as the boys and girls got pleasantly buzzed. Jim personally didn’t touch a single drop, but it was a novel experience seeing the tipsy group from a sober perspective, and the fun and cheer they shared was intoxicating.

Their own little corner of the beach was full of laughter, some of the braver among the group dipping into the waves at one point, Cassidy giggling as she dragged Jim in and started splashing him. It was nice to see her loosen up, not that she hadn’t been cheeky or fun before, but a drunk Cassidy was something he was glad to witness, and she was certainly over her limit since she’d taken the liberty to have both hers and Jim’s assigned drinks for herself.

The water was cold, and the air was hot, and with nothing better to do, the two clubs used the day to relax. They rode high all the way into the afternoon, and the setting sun reflected the group’s winding down, some of the Mythics and Pokémon shuffling closer to whisper and giggle at one another in the dying light, the lightweight among the group passing out on their towels.

The sun wasn’t quite down yet, and Jim got an idea, turning to Cassidy who had a towel around her neck, the dragoness drying herself off after her latest dip in the ocean. “Hey, I have a surprise for you,” he said. “But we have to be quick, let’s get going.”

“We going on an adventure?” she asked, clumsily getting to her feet, the alcohol not doing her balance any favours. “Where to?”

“I just said it was a surprise, grab my shirt.”

She threw him his top, the young man struggling to put his arms through the holes as he started moving up the beach and getting his head stuck, much to the Garchomp’s amusement. They tiptoed around a passed-out Isaac and a hyperactive Kendra who was passing the volleyball around to the few standing members, but the clubs were too focused on each other to pay the departing couple any mind.

Jim fell into a brisk walk, the beach becoming less populated as the day drew into night. The soft lights of the city on their right were gently merging into the darkening sky, the beach slowly bending away in the distance. With their group behind them and the hour growing late, all they could hear was the gentle sloshing of the waves on their left.

“Are you walking me back home again?” Cassidy asked.

“Not this time,” he said, pointing down the beach ahead of them. “You see that esplanade over there?”

“Nope,” she replied, blinking through her obviously blurry vision. “Why’re we going to a… whatever you called it?”

“You’ll see,” he replied mysteriously. He turned and saw she was wandering the wrong way. “No, over this way. Grab my hand, Cass.”

He turned her around, and with his guidance she got the idea, the two hand-in-hand as they slowly worked their way along the sand. She wrapped her scaley tail around his waist for support, the appendage packed with strong muscles, contrasting with her soft hip that rubbed against his own.

They passed a few people here and there, some staring, but Jim paid them no mind, the sand spilling between his toes as they walked. The rocks stung his heels, but they didn’t need shoes where they were going.

Soon they reached the esplanade, the dark arm of stone stretching dozens of meters into the sea, and sitting at its base was an upraised structure. Its boards were painted over with a marble white coat, huge bands of glass wrapping around the walls that faced the ocean. Through them, Jim could see dozens of dining tables, the tabletops crowded with exquisite dishes, lit by the soft glow of candles. The patrons were backlit by long shelves lined with bottles of glittering wine, the laughter and chatter above drawing Cassidy’s attention.

“You’re taking me out?” she breathed, craning her neck up at the wooden deck extending out of one side of the building, the tablecloths flapping in the ocean breeze.

“You don’t wanna go in there, the fish sucks,” Jim said. “I’ll do you one better, though. Over here.”

Still holding her hand, Jim led Cassidy towards the base of the building, the whole structure supported on several dozen pillars that held the building above the waterline, so its customers could get as close to the sea as possible with a fine view. There was a path leading between the pillars that snaked up a slight incline to a small cabin, and bobbing in the calm water nearby were maybe ten small boats.

There were skiffs with motor engines on the backs, canoes with tarps draped over their long bulks, even a jet ski parked up further up on the sand. They were tied up to the pillars that held the deck aloft, hidden in the shadow of the restaurant above.

“What are we doing here?” Cassidy whispered, looking up as a random woman started laughing, her hysterics slipping through the floorboards.

“What do you think?” he asked, picking a skiff at random and trudging through the sand towards it. “Boats have very limited uses.”

“We’re not stealing one are we?” she hissed, her head turning to track Jim as he splashed through the water.

“No!” he replied. “We’re just… temporarily borrowing one, without permission.”

“Jim!” Cassidy exclaimed, shout-whispering even harder now. “That is stealing!”

“Don’t worry, my friends and I do this all the time,” Jim replied, waving a hand at her. “Nobody uses these things anyway, that’s why they’re down here and not at an actual dock.”

“Well someone had to have put them here,” she replied, watching as he started unwinding a rope that wrapped around one of the pillars.

“Don’t worry,” he said again. He turned and looked into his chosen skiff. “This one doesn’t have any paddles, see if can you find any.”

“Paddles?” she asked. The Garchomp didn’t look like she wanted any part in all of this, but she still turned her head to look around, dipping her snout into one of the canoes to peek inside, lifting a tarp by the corner using only the tips of her nails, as if afraid to leave DNA evidence.

On the fourth boat she found a set of thick, wooden paddles, tucking them under an arm as she turned around. “We’re not taking one of the motorised ones?” she asked.

“Too loud,” he said, poking a finger up at the restaurant.

“What do you mean, too loud? I thought you said nobody uses these?” she replied. “Jim, we’re going to get in trouble if-”

“Hey!” a deep voice yelled, the pair turning in unison towards the cabin. The window had opened, the light inside shining on the back of a hunched figure wearing a sailors cap. “What are you two doing with my boats?”

“Nothing!” Jim yelled back. He threw the untied rope into the skiff and gestured at her. “Cass help me push this thing right now!”

The Garchomp watched the figure disappear back inside the cabin, the door flying open a moment later. Cassidy was clearly out of her element as she did as Jim asked, her long legs kicking up waves of water as she trundled towards their chosen skiff. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder as they directed the boat out to sea, the brown belly of the boat reflecting off the unsettled water.

Their ankles dipped below the waterline, then their knees, Cassidy’s muscles bulging beneath her scales as they fought against the waves, Jim grunting like a tennis player as he used all his strength. They pushed the boat a couple meters out, some of the diners on the deck hearing the commotion, peeking over the railing to stare at the odd sight.

“Hey come back here!” the man called, Jim looking wildly over his shoulder as their pursuer ran into the water, coming closer and closer with each lunge.

“Get in!” he said, vaulting into the skiff but losing his balance at the last moment, rag-dolling into the boat with a pained grunt. He pulled Cassidy up after recovering, the dragoness weighing an absolute ton – he wouldn’t have been able to lift her if he wasn’t pumped with adrenaline at that moment.

He thrust a paddle into her hand, the Garchomp not thinking twice as she began to row. The restaurant, and the shore, slowly began to grow distant, Jim only daring to look back once they were deeper out. The cabin man seemed to have given up, his knees just below the water as his short-lived chase ended. He was shaking his fist at them, whoever he was, his yelled threats indiscernible as the wind took them.

When they were safely away, the human and Pokémon turned to one another, their eyes as wide as plates as they caught their breath. And then Cassidy started laughing, her prior fright giving way to hysterical relief. “I-I have never done anything like that before!” she breathed. “He almost caught us!”

“He did catch us,” Jim corrected. “if I were you I’d wear a bandanna the next time you’re round that place.”

“Will he call the police?” she asked.

“He hasn’t the last hundred times me and the boys have done something like this, why would he call them now?”

“You live a wild life, Jim,” she said, play-punching him on the arm. “And you once said you’re a boring guy. So what’s the plan now?”

“Oh, right,” he said, taking up his paddle. “Steer us toward that island over there.”

She followed his pointed finger. Maybe a hundred meters out was one of those many islands that made up the isles that dotted the bay. The sun was just beginning to set over them, it would be night soon.

She dipped her paddle hesitantly into the water, the skiff bobbing along with each stroke. He could tell she was nervous. “Don’t worry about sharks,” he said. “the water’s not that deep around the Isles, and nobody’s been attacked in years.”

“I’m a Garchomp, sharks don’t bother me,” she replied, taking a moment to rest her arms. “I’ve just… never been so far away from… everything, you know?” She looked back at the bright lights lining the shore. “We’re only a short paddle away, but I haven’t got my phone, or anything. My whole life’s been moving from city to city. It feels so strange.”

“It’s good to just get away from it all once in a while,” he said, slowing his strokes and letting the current do the work. “Sometimes, I like to just highjack a boat and come out here, do some thinking. The view’s not bad either. My favourite spot’s just between those two islands there.”

“You called this the Rainbow Isles, didn’t you?” she asked, looking out at the waterline horizon. “Tell me something about it.”

“Well, the Isles are a whole bunch of islands ranging from small to very small,” he said, waving his arm at the distant collection of islands. “There’re technically hundreds of them splitting off deeper into the sea, and there’s been a lot of consistent additions, going from all the way back to the fifties to our, well, present year of time. Since we’re right between two tectonic plates the Isles stretch on for a heck of a long way, and every year one or two bits of land get formally placed into our Isles.”

“You sound very enamoured with this place,” Cassidy noted. “Have you ever discovered a bit of land, call it your own?”

“Nope, but I like to try. Come out here every year, maybe every other month and just… set sail. Hey don’t look at me like that, it’s nice, especially this time of day. There’s no one around to bother you, it’s private…”

“Good to know,” she cooed. “We finally get a moment to ourselves.”

Trying not to look at her soaked swimsuit too much, he paddled the skiff between the two islands, the waterbed just visible through the trembling waves. Cassidy peaked over the lip of the boat, awing over the colourful pockets of coral passing underneath their vessel. Schools of fish weaved between rocks covered in shells and moss, close enough they could have reached out and touched them. Jim even pointed out a turtle swimming nearby, the dragoness cooing as it flapped its fin at them like it was waving hello.

As they rounded the island on their left, a breathtaking sight enthralled the pair. The afternoon sun hung like an orange ball sinking below the horizon, turning the endless ocean into liquid flame. It seemed so much bigger and closer with the empty ocean in front of it, the cool winds coasting off the surface of the sea making the Garchomp and human shiver inside their swimwear.

“It’s beautiful,” Cassidy breathed, her eyes shining like two gold disks.

“Yeah,” he said, the dragoness craning her neck to meet his eyes. “But, you’re better. As in, like…” Whatever crap he was about to say left him in a sputter. “Sorry, that sounded so cheesy.”

“I like cheese,” Cassidy chuckled. “And thank you, for showing me this. Sunsets are so nice here, and so romantic…”

She slipped her hand into his own, and he squeezed back, her touch sending a tingle up his arm. “I wanted to apologise,” Cassidy started, staring back at the sun. “I got a little heated back there in the game, I was taking advantage of your… condition.”

“Condition, shmondition,” he said. “I managed to bring it back, didn’t I?”

“You did, it’s nice to find a boy who can keep up. We dragon’s can be… difficult in a lot of ways.”

“You’re telling me,” he said, memories of the Charizard still fresh on his mind. “But I think I got a handle on you all by now.”

“Is that so?” she asked. She leaned closer, the flesh of her thigh spilling wonderfully onto the seat beside him. “Care to prove that with a bit of a… test?”

She cupped his face in her hands, the two pouring their passion for one another into a sultry kiss, the sun illuminating one side of their faces as they ran their hands over each other. When they broke away, Jim wiped the corner of his mouth and said: “Well then. Do you want to head back? It’s getting a bit chilly.”

“The sun’s still up,” Cassidy replied. “We’ve got time.”

“Time for… what?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her hands as they trailed down to his shoulders, her claws prickling his skin pleasantly.

“You brought me all the way out here for a reason, didn’t you?” she asked, her eyes inches from his own as she licked his cheek. “We both know what we want, and now we’re all alone. So I say… why not, huh?”

Maybe it was the drink talking through her, but her admission caught him off-guard all the same. There was no need for hesitation anymore, no more dancing around social norms, her feelings were out there, and he did what his father had encouraged him to do. Pounce.

“Why not?” he echoed, Cassidy giggling as he initiated another kiss, dragging his lips form her snout to trail down her neck, pecking her hide as he went. Her scales were as flush as the tiles of a palace, shifting as his tongue brushed over their strange texture. She smelled of seawater mixed with her usual spice, the cold water droplets contrasting with her unusually warm body temperature. He ran his hands all over her, finding the dragoness soft in all the right places it mattered, her firm muscles hidden beneath the layer of blubber that gave her such alluring contours.

“This thing is so wet,” Cassidy said, gently easing Jim away as she reached behind her back. He watched with the patience of a hungry dog as she started unclipping the loops around her shoulders. Her breasts seemed to strain against the swimsuit that clung to her body like a glove, the orbs like magnets his eyes were helplessly drawn to.

She pressed herself against him as she unclipped the hooks, using his chest to keep her garment from falling off. Her breasts squashed against his torso, moulding around his skin like putty. He could feel the protrusions of her nipples poking at his naked skin through the fabric, hard enough to poke someone’s eye out.

She used her biceps to press her breasts together, chuckling as Jim stared into the depths of her cleavage. They were as red as the rest of her soft underbelly, contrasting with the off-blue scales that coloured the rest of her.

She teased him for a moment longer, then let the swimsuit fall away, her tits springing loose as if they had a mind of their own to be free. They swayed a little before settling into a flawless, teardrop shape. They were just as big as that volleyball they were playing with a few hours ago, and probably just as springy due to their pert shape.

Her swimsuit fell lower, her erect nipples exposing themselves to the chilly air. They were pink and puffy, camouflaging with the rest of her crimson boobs. Below them, her scales curved in towards her spine, her stomach packed with muscle hidden behind a layer of paunchy fat. She wasn’t built like Jim was, her strength came from the natural life as a dragoness rather than diet and exercise, her feminine curves defined in the glow of the setting sun. Her core was so powerful it was like it had been chiselled from marble, flaring into a pair of strong hips that served to carry her meaty legs around.

As her suit draped to her waist, she pressed against him again, stopping gravity from exposing her most private parts. Although hidden from this angle, he could feel the scales of her nethers through his board shorts – was she wearing anything down there?

“You first, Jim,” she chuckled, plucking at his shorts with her claws. “I want to see all of you.”

“You know how cold it’s getting, right?” he said, a shiver rolling through him as a fresh gust petered off the waves.

“Then, I’ll have to find you someplace warm…”

Her lewd implications made his heart skip, the young man untying the knot around his waistband and pulling it down, exposing his togs. After kicking them off, he was a bit too eager to match the dragoness, tossing his shorts over his shoulder without thinking, his pants landing in the water with a sploosh. While Cassidy giggled, he reached sheepishly over the boat and retrieved them, the boat rocking unsteadily in the process – the skiff was just large enough to accommodate the both of them.

The hairs on his skin standing on end, he fumbled with his last remaining clothing, Cassidy watching silently as his member bounced free. Jim was so hard it almost hurt, and although the cold would make even the most well-endowed male shrink like a turtle, being so close to this near-naked dragoness was the perfect offset, and Cassidy didn’t seem disappointed as she looked him over.

Jim lurched as she reached out with her hands, brushing his erection with her claws, tracing one of his veins, the dragoness mapping his texture.

“You do feel a little cold,” she admitted, letting his organ rest in her toasty hand. He turned his rapidly warming face away as she peered up at him. This was not at all like his encounters with his previous partner. He and Lara would cut right to the chase, before their feelings had withered away. This must be a novel experience for the Garchomp if she’d never been with a human before.

He brought up a hand and cupped her cheek in his palm, her scales pinching his skin as he trailed up to one of her bulbous horns, tracing its odd shape. It felt like it was all muscle, with just a hint of springiness to it, like the length of a rubber hose. Cassidy’s breathing started growing heavy as he stroked her horn. She’d told him they were sensitive, and his soft caresses seem to excite her, her golden eyes blazing with passion.

“I told you not to use my horns against me,” she sighed, blowing hot air on his chest as she leaned into him. He thought she was coming in for a hug, but she wanted more than that, and he couldn’t stand to overpower her, the two falling into the bottom of the skiff in a clump.

Cassidy rolled on top of him, using his thighs as leverage to pull herself down, her smooth scales rubbing pleasantly against his skin as she shot him a sultry look, moving down until she was eye-level with his waist. She wrapped an arm around his rump, lifting him up so that his member bounced off the end of her snout, Cassidy squinting her eyes like she was about to sneeze.

She let her weight fall on him, her breasts spilling like dough across his legs, her tail wagging from side to side behind her as she raised her hindquarters. She blew on his dick like she was clearing the dust from an old book, Jim shivering beneath her as he watched. She opened her maw, keeping her eyes locked on his as her tongue lolled out between her chops. Her drool drooped from its tapered end, falling onto the head of his penis, more following as she started to salivate. It covered his dick in a slippery sheen from tip to base, hot and as thick as grease, Jim’s heart beating as her gaze bored into his own.

“There, much warmer, right?” she asked. Jim could only nod, and this only seemed to amuse the dragoness further. “Warmer, shwarmer, as you would say. Don’t worry, this is just the start…”

She planted a kiss on his tip, his organ jumping along with his racing heartbeat. He propped himself up on his elbows to watch as she dragged her tongue up the back of his shaft, the rough texture of her organ contrasting with her spit, which acted as a lubricant, her placating strokes gliding across his sensitive flesh.

She coiled her dexterous tongue around the head, peeling back the foreskin to expose his glans, her warm breath sending his mind reeling. She flicked and swirled her tongue with a tantalising finesse, each glance sending Jim further into heaven, the man helpless to stop himself from bucking into her mouth.

She used her other arm to wrap around his waist, the dragoness hugging his lap against her chest, using her weight and strength to keep him from moving around, the sensation of being pinned only making him more sensitive to her attentions.

She wrapped her tongue around his member, the thing long enough to squeeze most of his length. His hands fell onto her horns as she eased into a slow, punishing rhythm, her tongue scratching his tender glans as she closed her mouth over the head.

Jim arched off the floor of the skiff, his frustration only growing as Cassidy kept her weight on him. A bead of his excitement wet the top of her tongue, the dragoness greedily lapping it up as she focused on his sensitive underside.

She swallowed more of his length, Jim covering his face with his hands as the Garchomp peered up at him. The wet sounds of her saliva mixing with her eager lips was driving him crazy, Cassidy inching along his cock, her tongue wetting the way until she kissed the base, taking Jim all the way to the hilt.

She drew him deeper with a powerful swallow, the flesh of her inner cheeks sealing around him with the tightness of a lover’s loins. She pursed her lips around his pubic hair, the corner of her mouth curling into a mischievous grin as her throat flexed as she started to gulp.

Her throat constricted as his member reached the back of her mouth, the dragoness sucking so hard it was like she was trying to force him into climaxing using brute force alone, her tongue cushioning his length in all directions. She swirled and licked, grazing his shaft with her teeth, always keeping him on edge as the pleasure sent Jim into a trance.

“Was I right or was I right?” Cassidy asked, speaking around his member. Forget warm, she was as hot as a furnace in that maw of hers, the heat permeating him to the core. She giggled as he once again was lost for words, her voice sending vibrations through his very bones. She started to increase her pace, sliding him in and out of her mouth, the cold air and her hot mouth differing so rapidly he couldn’t help but moan into his hand each time her throat staved off the freezing ocean air.

The slippery drool, her soft cheeks, her lips sealing around his shaft as she glided up and down his length, it was all too much, an ache rising from deep inside him. He grabbed her horns and started thrusting, seeking out more of this stimulation. He didn’t grip hard, but just enough so that she stopped chuckling, her eyes closing as he fucked into her waiting mouth, the dragoness moaning as she let him set the pace.

His abs began to tense, and Cassidy seemed to sense he was close, gripping his butt tightly as she brought her lips to the base of his cock. Once last squeeze of her throat was all it took to finish him, Jim writhing on the wooden floor as the first wave of his emission surfaced. He painted the roof of her mouth white, Cassidy’s eyes going wide at the sensation. Electric tingles shot up from his toes to his skull, his dick twitching between her lips, his seed filling her mouth as another wave chased the first.

Slipping through her saliva and his emission like an eel, her tongue racked his glans with cruel, swirling motions, a third rope of his cum racing out into her waiting throat. All his senses dialled up to eleven as he filled Cassidy’s maw with his seed – the ocean wind, the water dripping off his arms, Cassidy’s winding tongue – all he could do was lay back and relax, letting the sweet euphoria take him.

He banged his head against the skiff as the warmth of afterglow soothed him, Cassidy squeezing out one last spurt of his seed before she unhooked her arms from around him.

She lifted her mouth, kissing his dick goodbye, sending one last pang of pleasure rolling through him. She swirled their combined fluids around her mouth like she was sampling a new wine, the dragoness tipping her head back to swallow.

“Bitter, but not bad at all,” she said, gazing at him covetously as she sat up. “What’s wrong, Jim? Mr. Feedback’s gone a little quiet.”

“You were amazing,” he said, Cassidy grinning down at him with palpable lust. She crawled over, laying on her side as she snuggled up to him, draping a leg over his waist. Somehow she’d managed to keep her swimsuit from falling away that whole time, the top of her mound hidden tantalisingly behind the lip of the fabric.

“We dragons can be hard in the sack,” she admitted, smiling up at him a she nuzzled his neck. No, it wasn’t a smile, but a grin, one born from victory at that. Her dragon’s pride was telling them both that she’d won him over. He’d meet her challenge, for his and all human’s sakes.

“Not as hard as us,” he replied. It was a bit of a clumsy comeback, and probably didn’t fit the context perfectly, but he didn’t care, grabbing Cassidy by one of her thorny shoulders and rolling her onto her back. The boat swayed from side to side with the movement, Jim turning his gaze down to stare slack-jawed at her assets. Her breasts were proportionate on her large form, but a human woman would have broken her back carrying those things around. The two orbs were as red as wine, the crimson scales of her underbelly a little smaller than the blue ones on her arms and back. The red mounds gave way to two pink nipples, her flesh wobbling as he cupped her boobs in his palms.

They were too large for his manhandling, so he tested their weight instead, giving them an experimental squeeze in delighting how they sprang back into their pert shape. Despite her scales, her bosom was remarkably soft to the touch, the young man fighting through the layer of blubber to seek out the firmer tissue beneath, his fingernails disappearing into her hide up to the first knuckle.

Like he was a baker’s apprentice, Jim started to knead, Cassidy’s eyes rolling into the back of her head as she arched her spine, her sculpted body seeking out more of his attentions. Jim did his best to take in every move she made, drinking in every appreciative shiver that rolled through her shapely waist and chiselled stomach, the human enthralled as he watched her dance beneath him.

His partner gasped softly as he leaned down and drew the flat of his tongue across one of her nipples, giving the protrusion the popsicle treatment as he began to lick and suck. The thing was huge, swollen and doubly sensitive by how much Cassidy was squirming. She breathed hot air on his head as he drew random shapes across it, a comely moan from the dragoness’s lips sending a pleasant shiver down his body.

Jim mouthed at one while he groped at the other, occasionally swapping between the two orbs as he sampled her. He grew bolder and began to chew on a nipple, pursing it between his teeth and attacking it with his tongue. The dragoness made a sound that was a mix between a gasp and a growl, his partner shivering like she’d just got the chills, and he felt her hands cup his head, pushing him deeper into her chest, a demand he was all to eager to comply with. Her crimson scales slid across his blushing cheeks with almost no resistance – her underbelly was nowhere near as armoured as the rest of her, and probably packed with nerve endings as a result.

“You’ve done this before,” she murmured, but it wasn’t an accusation, even though it felt like one to Jim. He had a smart-ass reply on the tip of his tongue, but old memories from his ex-lover distracted him. He pushed them away as he focused on how springy her flesh was, a throb coursing through his member as her sweet scent intoxicated him.

When he felt like he’d teased her long enough, her grabbed her by her love-handles and slid himself lower, putting his face level with her midriff. Her core had more in common with a sculpted statue than a normal person, the powerful muscles of her stomach tensing as he ran his hands over the channels carved into her belly. Her scales were wet from either the water or her own sweat, he wasn’t sure, but his fingers glided across her body as his hands travelled the soft contours of where her thighs met her waist. She wasn’t an athlete, but she wasn’t fat, the dragoness running the fine line between them and yet possessing the traits of both.

“Oh, Jim,” Cassidy moaned, the young man’s heart fluttering at hearing his name. His nose brushed down her navel as he travelled further south, her mound rising above her loins in a beautiful curve, his earlier comparison to statues closer to the truth than he thought.

Before he came face-to-face with her most intimate parts, the dragoness closed her thighs, blocking his view. He shot her a pretend annoyed glance, and she giggled down at him, the pair’s eyes meeting through her scaley cleavage. He grabbed her by the knees and eased her legs apart, removing her swimsuit that had hung there this whole time, looking down to see a pair of flushed, puffy lips winking back at him. They were a lighter shade of red than the rest of her scales, like the colour of creaming soda, blooming open like the petals of a flower, eager for his touch.

Her scent was stronger than ever now, Jim’s lungs filling with it with each gulp of air, fuelling his lust like a drug. Cassidy watched with lidded eyes as he brought his face between her thighs, running his tongue from the bottom of her entrance to the top.

From somewhere above him, Jim heard a snarl, a glob of her juices sliding out from her lips to drip down her thigh. She was so receptive, her hips gyrating as he held onto her waist for purchase, nothing like the last few times he’d been with Lara. He decided to tease her back like she’d done to him, kissing her inner thigh and nibbling on the scales around her mound, but never coming close enough to sate her.

“J-Jim,” she pleaded, her voice was slurred, like she was drunk. Then he remembered she probably was. “Please.”

“How the tables turn,” he replied, breathing on her flushed entrance as he peered up at her. “Hard in the sack, that what you said before?”

“Fine, fine, I’m sorry,” she said. “Just… I just need you to-”

Her words trailed into a groan as he delved between her legs, plunging his tongue inside her lips to lap at her vulva, her fem-juices leaking down the sides of his mouth. He poked at her folds, finding them to be softer than any silk he’d ever touched. The sounds of his chewing were almost as loud as the waves sloshing against the hull of the skiff, Cassidy bucking into his face as his lips brushed over something solid.

He flicked his tongue at it, and the dragoness growled at him, Jim realising he was poking at her swollen clitoris. He drew random shapes all over it, sealed his lips round it, drawing her bud out so he could lap at it in earnest.

He felt her powerful thighs brush against his face, Cassidy sealing them around his head as if afraid he might pull away. She ground her hips against him, deepening the stimulation as he delved into her most intimate place. In the same way the soft layer of fat concealed the strong muscles on her body, so too did her lions follow the same principle. Her satin-soft folds gave way to pure muscle, the beginnings of her passage rippling and constricting around his probing tongue with the strength of a fist.

He ran a hand up her thigh, resting his palm against her entrance, tracing the swollen pattern of her lips with a finger, Cassidy’s thighs quivering around him as he did. Using her liquid excitement to wet his digit, he eased his finger inside, her folds coiling around it to draw it deeper inside. Her flesh rippled along the length of his finger with a tightness that almost hurt, Jim’s heart racing as he imagined what it would feel like to feel these heavenly walls wrapping over his member. That was what he’d wanted for a long time now, but now that he was so close, he wanted the night to last for as long as it could, he wanted to make Cassidy feel as good as she’d done for him.

He curled his finger inside of her, the Garchomp squeezing her legs over his head, her sheer tightness making any complex movements a challenge. Her lions were radiating a tremendous heat, it was like putting his face to the surface of a stove, even his finger felt like it might melt inside of her, sweat trickling from his forehead as his world turned to nothing but pink scales.

“M-Maybe I didn’t need to plead after all,” Cassidy moaned, shivering as he dragged his tongue eagerly over her bud. He said something, but all she heard was a muffled couple of words. “Are you okay?” she asked. His free hand came up and he gave her a thumbs-up. “Good, because I sure am…”

She rolled her hips as she fucked his face, Jim extending another finger out to slip inside her, her tight folds sealing around it like a second skin. His raging member flexed jealously as her love tunnel sucked on his digits when he tried to pull them away, her loins desperate to have something inside them.

“My God, Jim,” she breathed. “Maybe I-I should have…”

She lost her train of thought as he licked at her bud, easing it out to his waiting lips. He continued on like that between her legs for a little longer, and then he felt Cassidy’s legs shift. She planted her clawed feet on his shoulders, pushing him away. He was still connected to her love tunnel by a thick strand of fluid clinging to his mouth, which broke as he fell back and hit his head on the seat behind him.

Rubbing the back of his head, he looked up to see Cassidy propping herself up on her elbows, wagging a finger at him. “You’re going to wear me out with that damn tongue of yours,” she accused. “And even I’m starting to feel the cold now. We should… move things along, if you know what I mean.”

“O-Okay,” he stammered. “Do you… want the top or the bottom?” he asked, the wind ruffling his hair as he stared right at her vagina. She closed her legs and giggled like a conspiring schoolgirl.

“Bet you’ve been wanting to ask me that for a while now. I might crush you if I was on top.”

“Sounds like a good problem to me,” he said, the two laughing as he crawled over to her, using her long, muscular legs to hoist himself up until their waists were lined up. He held one side of the skiff for support, using his other arm to angle his raging member towards her vulva. To say she was fever-hot would be putting it lightly, she was radiating a heat that teetered on being scolding. Her rubbed his dick against her entrance, the dragoness batting her eyes as she watched their lions touch. Jim coated his dick in her excitement, lubricating himself before lining up with her splayed lips.

Her ring of muscle gently wrapped over his tip as he pushed, Jim inching himself along despite his desire to plunge right in like this was the kick-off in the finals. Cassidy gasped as more of her walls parted, her folds clenching around the top of his shaft. Her insides gripped him like a soft, warm glove, Jim clenching his teeth as he lost his balance for a second.

He could feel her heartbeat through her innermost flesh, pulsing in time with her heaving chest. Every minute flex and shift he’d experienced with his fingers now coiled over the top of his shaft, and it was enough to give him pause, the man pausing as her folds flexed against his glans.

But he didn’t have time to catch his breath. Cassidy swung her legs around him, locking his hips between her meaty thighs, her legs crossing over his butt. “I can’t wait any longer,” she moaned, using nothing but her legs to pull him into her scaley tunnel.

He bottomed out inside her, her lips melting over the base of his shaft like wet clay, the two lurching as they mated. He fit so snugly inside her it was like his dick had just been vacuum-packed in her velvety walls, no gap between their flesh as her tunnel squeezed around his member.

“Geezus,” he panted, an especially tight squeeze making him double over. Their belly’s met as he leaned down on her, her soft, scaley hide as welcoming as his mattress. “Are you doing that?”

“Wh-Who else would it be?” she asked, her covetous eyes gazing up at him.

“Oh, yeah. Stupid question. Just don’t… don’t squeeze so much or this’ll end very quickly.”

“Sounds like a you problem to me,” she purred, laughing as another clench rolled through her heavenly walls.

His hair bounced as he rolled his eyes, Jim gripping her scaley hips in his hands and pulling out of her with all the speed of a tortoise. Her slippery walls sucked on his glans with the strength of magnets, as if her loins couldn’t stand the thought of being empty. He was aware of every crease and wrinkle she had, her walls rippling up his length in all directions.

He pulled away until only his head was inside her hungry lips, and then he plunged back into her with an audible clap. This time it was her who was taken aback, a wonderful ripple travelling up her taut belly from the impact, the dragoness growling somewhere above him. Every nerve in Jim’s body was electrified with pleasure, the wonderful sensation of their coupling making his body feel fuzzy and warm. This was everything he had dreamed of and more, and yet this was no dream, Cassidy was here with him, as naked as he was. The coolness of her scales beneath his fingers, her boiling passage coiling over his cock, somehow he’d managed to make all this reality.

Cassidy was in her own world it seemed, her eyes losing focus as his member flexed inside her, her hands trailing over his stomach as she admired him, one hand grabbing at the lip of the boat as if the Garchomp was afraid she might float away.

He settled into a slow rhythm, delighting in how each time he pulled out, her flesh would stick to him like glue and follow him out, cushioning his thrusts as he hilted himself inside her. Cassidy used her legs to deepen their coupling, locking them behind him and pulling when he did, inching a little further into her draconic pussy with each push.

She arched her back off the bottom of the skiff, the way she writhed sending the strong muscles in her core flexing beneath her crimson hide. Her breasts swayed as they slowly upped their pace, the soft orbs quivering with their conjoined movements. Her thighs wobbled too as his hips ground against them, she was so soft in all the right places it was driving him mad.

“More,” she cooed, her long tongue wetting her lips. “I need more.”

It was part request, part demand, her legs digging into his rump as she pulled him into her hard enough to leave bruises. Her eyes snapped shut as he bottomed-out, Cassidy leaning back, her head lolling about in time with the waves. Or maybe they were making the waves by how much the boat moved, Jim wasn’t sure.

Even despite the dropping of the air temperature, Jim found a few droplets of sweat on his brow, the liquid falling down onto Cassidy’s scales, making her shine in the waning sunlight. A few even trickled over her perfect breasts, coating them in little glittering droplets, as if he needed further reason to marvel at them.

As he felt the first waves of his surfacing limit approach, his world flipped on its head. Or his head, specifically. Cassidy demonstrated her superior strength by rolling him onto his back before he could process what was happening. He groaned as the strong grip on his member was broken, their groins staying linked together by a copious amount of fluids, breaking to fall to the deck below them.

He was pulled to the side, Cassidy poising herself above him, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the side of the skiff, her legs thumping as she placed her feet to either side of his hips. Jim groaned again, but not out of pleasure this time. She’d slammed his head straight into the skiff’s flank, his head angling over the lip that he could just see the waterline and the island behind them.

“Ouch!” he yelped. “Watch the concussion!” He looked down and shivered as her fem-nectar dripped out of her entrance to drape over his belly.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, her excitement blending with a hint of shame. “I decided I wanted to be on top.”

“I can see that,” he said, watching as she laid a hand on his stomach as she positioned herself above his dick. “Just… watch out, you’re pretty, uh, heavy.”

“Wow. Just fat-shame me now of all times, why don’t you?”

“I meant heavy as in, good heavy,” he replied sheepishly.

She snorted. “You’re lucky I like it when you say these silly things.” His expression must have told her he was a little apprehensive of the new position, the dragoness leaning down to deliver one of her signature kisses. Her soft snout met his lips, the Garchomp pouring her affection into every stroke of her long tongue. When she parted, all he could see was her hypnotizing eyes.

“I’d never hurt you,” she crooned.

“I mean you just kinda did…”

“Starting now,” she huffed.

He tried and failed to stop a moan from escaping his lips as she lowered herself on him, her sopping vulva wrapping gently over his glans as he slipped inside her. She was in control of their pace now, and apparently he hadn’t been going nearly hard enough for the dragoness, her meaty ass spilling over his thighs as she leaned back, her hands sliding down to grip his stomach. She lifted herself up, only his sensitive head inside her love tunnel, and then let gravity drop her back down, his shaft disappearing into her heavenly depths. Her walls massaged him with each plunge, Jim powerless to do nothing but let her ride him.

He ran his hands over her wonderful stomach, her flexing muscles tightening when he touched them. Her hips rolled like she was performing a dance with them, making slow circles and rocking against his hips, switching lazily between the two. Her tunnel squeezed around him in roiling waves, Jim losing focus as she sent his nerves alight with pleasure. His eyes started losing focus as she added a twisting motion with each downward thrust, making sure he mapped out every inch of her vagina in new, exciting angles.

Cassidy was panting, her hot breath misting the cold air. The last wedge of the falling sun framed her thorned shoulders and the curves of her chest, making her features stand out to Jim even in his state. She spread her thighs apart to give him a wonderful view of their coupling, the sight of her walls spilling over the base of his member enrapturing him.

She picked up the pace until her bounces were almost desperate, the dragoness moaning each time he bottomed out inside her. Her walls were clenching harder, her little sounds growing in volume, her hands gripping him hard enough to leave red welts, she was getting close, and so was he, that familiar ache returning with renewed vigour.

He tried to lift himself to meet her thrusts, but she was too heavy for him to do much, the skiff rocking back and forth in time with her thrusts. He swore he could feel a bit of water splash up into his hair due to this angle he was in, and some of the wooden boards were creaking as the dragoness subjected him to gradually more harder thrusts.

“I need more,” she panted, her voice cracking. “just a little more…”

She fucked him into the boat with a new urgency, driving his dick into her burning passage hard enough his hips started to ache. Her powerful walls flexed and moved around him, her folds raking him as she used her superior strength to use him to bring herself to climax. It was fitting they were out here in the ocean, the waves of the sea just like the waves of pleasure the two were riding out into the closing finale.

Cassidy turned her snout to the sky, her moans culminating in a bestial whine as her vigour evaporated with one last drop of her waist. Her body seized up, her muscles tensing as her orgasm began. Her walls shivered along with her powerful muscles, closing around his member in contracting waves. She lifted, and dropped herself down on him one more time, the dragoness shivering contentedly as she came, her fem-nectar spilling from around his dick to pool on his lap.

The sight of her release sent Jim into his own world of bliss. He lifted his hips to meet hers, as much as her weight would allow, making a sound that a monkey in heat would make rather than a human male should. He erupted into her eager hole, her draconic walls teasing out his baby batter with slow, narrow massages. His hot seed shot into her waiting womb, the dragoness shuddering as he filled her to capacity.

Another desperate bounce, Cassidy ringing out another wave out of him, Jim sinking his fingers into her hips to steady himself as his climax drew out into what felt like minutes of ecstasy, but could have only been seconds. Just as the sweet ache of afterglow began to chase his release, Cassidy had different plans in mind.

She lifted, and dropped again, harder than any of her previous, desperate bounces, perhaps wanting to get as much out of this as possible, but in her throes of pleasure she pushed the balance of the skiff a little too far. The boat had been rocking in time with their frantic pace, but this last plunge sent it off-kilter. Cassidy made a high-pitched squeal that would have made more sense coming from a frightened Ralts than a Garhomp. A sort of: “Eeeeeek-!” –that jim would have found humorous had he the time to laugh, which he did not.

His world flipped until he dunked forehead-first into the sea, the dragoness clinging to him as they tumbled into the water with a great splash, the two surprisingly still coupled on the way down. Jim let out a burbled cry as the freezing water pricked at his naked skin, the cold making his aching balls shrink to the size of green peas.

The growing moonlight cast wavering, white light along the surface of the ocean above him, Jim looking through blurry eyes to see Cassidy clinging to his side. He shuddered, not because of the temperature, but because she separated from him, one last pang of pleasure rippling through him as he slid out of her. He imagined their combined fluids were seeping out of her, but it was too dark to make out anything definite.

He held her by the arm as he began to paddle to the surface, breaching the water with a pained gasp – everything from the neck down felt like ice in these damned waters. He looked around and saw the skiff nearby, which had capsized, the serial number painted on its belly glowing in the moonlight.

A moment later and Cassidy surfaced beside him, spitting out a ball of water that landed directly on Jim’s temple. As he wiped at his face, he shot her an annoyed look, which she responded with a sheepish grin.

“My bad,” was all she said.

“Your bad?” he replied, his teeth chattering. “My dick feels like a… like a popsicle!”

“How do you think I feel? My tits are like two sacks of ice in this damn water!”

Their frowns slowly morphed into smiles, and the two began to laugh at their strange situation, even as their naked bodies froze with pain. They swam over to the skiff, the couple taking the boat by one side and grunting as they lifted it back onto its correct side.

“Wait, where’s my swimsuit?” Cassidy asked. She looked around, eventually spotting a pile of clothing draped atop the water nearby. After retrieving their clothes, he helped her climb aboard after struggling himself into the skiff. She hesitated there in the water as she looked him over. “You’ve got a nice butt, Jim, thought I’d mention it.”

“Thanks?” It must be glowing in the moonlight at this angle, the moon hanging behind and above them. “Let’s get back to shore,” he said, rubbing his shivering shoulders as she climbed aboard.

“Good idea,” Cassidy said, her body covered in water, the way it travelled down her sculpted muscles distracting him. “That’ll give us some time before we can go again.”

“Huh?” he asked, feeling small as she peered down at him with her hungry eyes.

“What?” Cassidy asked with a shrug. “We’ll need some way of warming up once we’re on dry land. Or would you rather we end the night early?”

“Well, if you insist…”

Despite his air of aloofness, he’d never paddled faster than he did that night, angling the boat back to the mainland. Before they got going, Cassidy pulled him close, leaning into him and subjecting him to another dizzying kiss that left him eager for what else she had in store for him.

Chapter 8

1

Jim and Cassidy returned to find the drama club and the Mythics struggling to recover from their shoreside bender, the humans and Pokémon laying on the sand in various states of intoxication. The less wasted among the group had managed to call their parents for a pickup, and before long, headlights of parking cars cut through the night, the various mothers and fathers trudging down the sand to take their drunk kids home.

Jim helped a snoozing Kendra into her parent’s car. He was a little less coordinated from his prior romps with Cassidy, but at least he could stand, unlike the Typhlosion. As the hours passed, the group slowly dwindled to a handful of people, Jim taking Cassidy’s hand into his own as he took a seat on his towel, settling in as he waited for his father’s car.

“What happened to you two?” Isaac asked, one of the last few of the group still waiting around. “You go for a swim or something? You’re all wet.”

“In more ways than one,” Jim mumbled, chuckling when Cassidy play-punched him on the arm. Isaac looked between the two, frowning as the cogs in his head turned. If he had any suspicions, he kept them to himself.

Before long, another car pulled up to the lot, Cassidy climbing to her feet when she recognised the licence plate. “That’s me,” she said, leaning down and grabbing Jim’s face in her hands, pulling him in for a kiss, Jim meeting it eagerly. She held him there for a few moments, then released him. “Call me later?”

“You bet,” he said, watching her butt jiggle in her swimsuit as she turned around. Her pudgy tail caressed his cheek as she walked away, the Garchomp rolling her hips as she felt his eyes on her.

When she was out of earshot, Isaac leaned over. “You two fucked, didn’t you?”

Jim didn’t answer, watching the oversized Pokémon car reverse away, a stoic expression on his face as he refused to give Isaac any reaction.

“Did you fuck her? Jim? Jim if you don’t answer that means you did. Jim come on, pleeeeeease-!”

“Alright!” Jim said, throwing up his hands. “We did. There, you happy?”

“Very. Jimmy tapped that derg ass. Proud of you, dude.” He leaned closer, looking around as though afraid of being overheard, bringing his voice down to a low murmur. “Well? Come on, what was it like?”

“I’m not telling you!” Jim replied. “What happened on that boat stays on that boat.”

“The what? Oh, you stole one of those skiffs from that sailor guy, didn’t you? Taught her how to rock the boat, huh?” Isaac chuckled. “At least give me something, man, I’ve never been with a derg before.”

“You’ve never been with anyone,” Jim shot back. “but fine, I’ll tell you one thing, Garchomp’s aren’t happy with just the one round.”

“No shit? How many times did you go at it?”

Jim turned his eyes up in thought, Isaac nudging him as he started mentally counting. “You dirty dog, Jim, it must have been a lot since you were gone for hours. Looks like you made it, my friend.” He put an arm over Jim’s shoulders, waving a dramatic arm in the direction Cassidy had gone. “It’s all downhill from here, though, get her on her back as much as you can, that’s my advice.”

“Dickhead,” Jim pushed his arm away. “How did things go with you and Sasha?” he asked.

“Very well!” Isaac squeaked in reply. Jim smirked at him, and his friend’s mood soured. “Okay I’m lying. No matter how much I came onto her, she just wouldn’t stick.”

“Maybe you should be taking my advice,” Jim said.

“Screw you, she’s got her eyes on you, Jim, if you weren’t around I might have had a shot.”

“But I was gone for hours, just like you said.”

Isaac grumbled something under his breath, adjusting himself on the sand as he folded his arms. “You’re caught between a dom and a scaley place, Jim. Even I’m not sure whether to be jealous or not of that. I’d tell you to play them both, but I’ve never tried entertaining two Poképussies.”

“Or one, either,” Jim added. “Cass has got nothing to worry about.”

“Don’t be such a simp, man.” Isaac said, drawing random lines in the sand. “You realise what Salazzle’s can do in the sack, right? It’s hard enough just trying to picture the possibilities.”

“I don’t need to picture anymore,” Jim replied. “You’d understand if you were in my shoes.”

“Maybe I would,” Isaac relented, visibly deflating. Another car rolled into the parking space above them, the two squinting into the glare of the headlights. “Maybe I would…”

2

The drama club continued to work through its big production, with rehearsals changing to three or four times a week. Even though Jim had other commitments, using his head during the last match had given him enough free time to be there for the club, and any extra moment spent in Cassidy’s presence was always a plus. He didn’t have to be awkward and tactful around her anymore, they’d shown a new side of themselves that night on the boat. It had been so long since he’d expressed himself in that kind of way to another, and it felt even better after the heartbreak of his last relationship, as if he was rekindling some lost flame inside him. Lara had said one last, horrible thing to him before she’d left, and even though it might have been nothing more than words meant to sting, he was starting to worry he might ever find someone he could be so close to again.

Kendra kept his critical eye handy as she assigned each member to a role, from main characters to one-tricks. It couldn’t be avoided given the scope of their final play, but everyone seemed happy to chip in, and those with less experience were glad to give the spotlight to those who wanted it, like Sasha or Amelia. He helped Kendra mark their deliveries and correct any mistakes in the manuscript, the ideas slowly transitioning into a coherent plotline as they started practicing.

There was one moment of surprise worth recalling throughout the production’s early days. The club was all clustered around the stage, going over their lines for the next scene, when the doors to the hall suddenly swung open.

“We’re in session,” Kendra snapped, turning to the entrance. “we don’t need interruptions when… we’re… doing… P-Principal Clark?”

The Typhlosion’s snarl melded into a grin, the principal giving off an air of authority even she couldn’t ignore. The whole club stood like a gaggle of army recruits being called to attention, aside from Sasha, who just rolled her eyes at the scene. Given that the principal had the final say in the fate of this club, Jim wasn’t surprised to see them act so sheepish.

“Good evening, class,” the principal began, waiting as the club chorused their own greetings. It was like being in kindergarten again. “How are things coming along, Miss Ayers?”

“Th-They’re coming along great!” Kendra replied with a conspicuous gulp. “Would you like to take a seat and watch? We were just practicing.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude, plus that would spoil the play if I knew details beforehand.” Some professors liked to watch the students work from the shadows, saying things like just pretend I’m not here, but at least the principal was aware enough that his presence would only make the club nervous. “I just came to relay some news concerning your play.”

“There’s nothing wrong, is there?” Kendra asked. Jim had seen her act this way around the principal before, but seeing the surly Pokémon this concerned was weirdly satisfying. She wasn’t always an ass.

“That’s for you to decide. I just came from a meeting with the campus staff, and your play was one of our topics of discussion. Mrs. Felix brought up the fact that we did not have a firm date set for your performance yet, so we gave you one. November 25th, right at the end of term. Exams will be over, and the campus will be free of lectures. Perfect time to host events, don’t you think?”

“I, uhm, yes. Yes, it’s perfect! We’ll be ready by then!”

“Good. I expect great things from you all. This hall wasn’t cheap, but perhaps our new live art classes might make use of it if things take a different course,” he added, turning to admire the vaulted ceiling and the luxurious seating arrangements. “Best of luck to you.”

The principal walked away, the club murmuring to each other when the doors shut behind him. “Alright alright everyone,” Kendra said, hushing the group. “We have a deadline now, so all the more reason we should get stuck into this script.”

“If I didn’t know any better,” Sasha began. “I would have thought he was threatening us just now.” When everyone just looked at her she went on. “Think about it. He picked the date without even consulting us, and it sounds oddly specific to mention the 25th.”

“What are you saying?” Jasmine asked. “November is months away, if he wanted to threaten us he could have said the play’s happening tomorrow.”

“It’s just an observation,” Sasha said, shrugging. Her aloofness seemed to worry the Sylveon, Kendra cutting in before more of her worries manifested.

“Who cares what the principal thinks?” Kendra asked. “I mean… we should care, but not about what he thinks of us! If he doubts our club, then we’re going to prove him wrong when November arrives, won’t we? Now if there are no more interruptions, we still have a few more pages to go over…”

But it seemed there were plenty more interruptions aside from the principal’s sudden visit. Just as they were resuming their lines, a loud, thumping sound echoed off the window on the northern wall, the impact shaking the trestle table lined up against it, one of the stacks of cups there tipping over as the sound repeated.

Bang~! –went the glass, the ground shaking as if someone had dropped a bowling ball. Jim didn’t need to guess the source, the noise was oddly familiar…

“Those stupid boys and their handball!” Kendra muttered, throwing the manuscript she’d been holding to the floor. “I’m going to get the principal and-”

Jim was already moving, the club turning to watch as he jogged over, lifting one of the curtains and peering round the fabric to the outside, a scowl slowly forming on his face.

“Jim, wait!” Kendra called. “the door’s unlocked you don’t need to-”

Jim vaulted out of the window after opening it, his sneakers clicking against the pavement when he landed. Like the interior, the immediate area outside the hall had been refurbished, with the cracks in the cement filled in, and the sheet roofs repainted. The handball court from before had been cleaned over, but someone had taken to outlining a very crude, and uneven square on the concrete in the same spot, this time in yellow chalk.

And just like the last time, a group of boys were standing around the court. Jim couldn’t remember their exact number, but it felt like there were more humans here, including a very mean-looking Haxorus, the dragon turning his red eyes on Jim, his throat warbling as he growled in a not-so-friendly greeting.

“Theatre boy’s back again!” the one holding the handball said. The same ringleader smiled, but his rat-like complexion wasn’t a friendly one. “How’s your gay little club going?”

“Pretty good,” Jim replied, gesturing at him. “Got your ball back, I see.”

“Yeah, you threw it pretty fucking far, but my friend here thinks he can throw you further.”

He nodded to the Haxorus, the Pokémon stepping forward. He stood at least a head taller than Jim, maybe two, his horns coloured a blazing red, shaped like two edges of a battle-axe. His muscles flexed beneath his yellow carapace, it looked like he could chuck Jim like a human javelin if he wanted to.

“I throw your ball and you sick a dragon on me?” Jim asked. “That’s a little extreme.”

“You’s did more than that!” another boy said, and Jim recognised him. It was Acne, one of the guys who’d been bullying Edwardo. And now Jim saw the resemblance, Acne must be the ringleader’s brother or something.

“Ah, you again,” Jim said in greeting. “Where’s your friend? The one my girl kicked so hard his sack went up into his intestines?”

“Fucking bitch got’s him good,” Acne snarled, folding his arms. “He won’t even go near here, pussy’s afraid of the stupid dragon bitch.”

“At least he learned his lesson,” Jim said, he put his hands on his hips, looking between each boy as they made a circle around them. “Well guys, I’ll make this simple. Take your ball somewhere else, and I won’t have to chuck it over that fence again.”

The one with the handball tossed his ball up and down in one hand. “Not this time, dickwad. How about you stay on that side of the window, and I won’t tell Barbus here to punch you in the brain? Ba dum tss.”

It didn’t look like many of the group would stand back and watch this time, and Jim didn’t think he could take on a Haxorus as well as Acne, not with his head injury, the young man hesitating as he weighed his options.

He heard something behind him, Jim turning round, expecting one of the boys was trying to get behind him, but instead, he saw Cassidy poking her snout through the window. Taking a page out of Jim’s book, she jumped through the frame, landing with a thump as she joined him by his side. The door to the left of the window slid open a second later, Kendra, Sasha, and most of the drama club filing out into the open, Jim feeling a surge of confidence swell through his chest as they formed up beside him. The space here was too small for everyone, the rest of the club peering through the window to watch.

“You want to punch my boy’s brain?” Cassidy asked, the Garchomp on Jim’s left. She pointed a claw at Acne. “Go ahead, just try it. I’ll squash your sack just like the other guy!”

“Look at these bitches,” the handballer scoffed. “you girls couldn’t fight shit. Come on, Barbus.”

Although the Haxorus stood taller than any of the Pokémon present, even Bernard’s shell didn’t quite reach his tall horns, the yellow dragon looked hesitant, glancing between Acne and the handballing humans for support. For a moment the two groups silently stared each other down, like two rival gangs out of an old Western movie.

“What are you all waiting for?” the one with the handball asked. “Jack, fucking do something.”

Acne, or Jack as he was apparently called, looked down at his sibling, then back to Jim. “You heard him, clear off, we’s trying to play a game here.”

“Don’t talk with them,” the ringleader scolded. Sighing, he turned to the Haxorus. “Barbus you ain’t a bitch. I’ve seen you take on three Blastoise, these sluts ain’t shit to you.”

For a tense moment, everyone was quiet as the dragon made up his mind, Jim’s heart racing as Barbus took a step forward, pounding a fist into a palm. “You know who you’re messing with, right?” Jim asked quickly, the Haxorus pausing as Jim addressed him. “You must have heard about the guy who took down the Charizard during the last home match? Well, that guy is me! So unless you want to be my second dragon slaying, you’ll walk away, right now.”

Jim liked to think he wasn’t bluffing, but he was, his concussion lingered in his head like a sneeze that wouldn’t come out no matter how much it was forced. His friends were here, however, and that sent a fresh surge of confidence through him, inspiring him just enough that he could hold the Haxorus’ gaze for a few tense moments.

The dragon made up his mind, looking between Jim and the Pokémon around him, and then turning around. With that, the tension bled away, the handballer’s watching as the yellow dragon stalked away. They lingered before following, Acne and his brother the last ones to give up.

“You’re such pussies!” the ringleader called, Acne shrugging as he too walked away. Now it was just him and his handball, and he didn’t even have enough in him to say some last insult before following after.

“Wait just one second,” Kendra said, the ringleader looking over his shoulder as he stopped. She held out her hand expectantly. “Your ball. Now.”

He chucked it like he was throwing a roll of toilet paper at an adversary’s house, which was something he’d probably done before. He aimed for Kendra’s face, but she caught it one-handed, grinning as the ringleader’s footsteps faded as he ran off.

She turned the ball over in her palm, everyone watching curiously as she bent over and placed it on the ground. She straightened up, wiped her hands, and then raised a clawed foot, her knee coming to her chest. She brought her leg down hard, ending the poor ball’s life beneath her lowering heel. It popped like the Death Star, strips of rubber exploding in a perfect ring from the point of impact, one last Bmp~! –sound marking the end of the ball’s existence.

“You don’t know how LONG I’ve wanted to do that!” Kendra said, turning to Jim and releasing a satisfied sigh. She was so giddy it was almost uncomfortable, Jim leaning away as she smiled at him.

The drama club put their hands and voices together in a cheer, glad they wouldn’t have to worry about handballs anymore, giving each other pats on the back as they celebrated.

“You can be very… assertive sometimes,” Cassidy remarked as the club slowly filed back inside, the Garchomp giving him a covetous glance. “I’ve never seen someone talk a dragon down before. That Barbus looked ready to rip your head off.”

“I nearly crapped my undies,” Jim said, Cassidy snorting at the admittance. “but with all you guys here this time, it made it easier.”

“You’ve given them a lot of confidence,” she said, gesturing at the departing group. “you showed them their problems won’t just go away. You jumping out that window inspired them to act, and you’ve earned their trust. They have your back, including Kendra.”

“They don’t need me,” he said, feeling his chest swirl as he watched the Pokémon chat and laugh. “They’ve got talent, and they don’t need some jock to come in and show them how to act or look tough.”

“Maybe not anymore,” Cassidy said. “but they just needed a push, and you provided.”

“I’m like a proud dad,” he joked, but deep down he knew he was proud of these people. They wouldn’t take any more shit, not after this encounter with the Haxorus and the handballers, and he was glad they were finally standing up for themselves.

“Hey Cass?” he said.

“Yes?”

“You wanna hang out tomorrow? Dad’s making a mean roast if you want to come have dinner.”

“At your place?” Cassidy asked, her eyes darting up and to the left when he nodded. “I… don’t think I can make that.”

“Oh?” he said. “Doesn’t have to be today. I think dad’s been wanting an introduction for a while now, so…” Was he being too presumptuous? They’d already made love, surely dinner with a parent would be a step down from there.

She saw his confusion, her demeanour shifting as she smiled. “No, I mean, dinner sounds nice. But, how about… you come over to my house? I’m not good with meeting the in-laws,” she added, as if she needed to explain herself to him.

“In-laws?” he said, smirking. “Planning a little ahead there, aren’t you?”

“Wait no I didn’t– you know what I mean,” she chuckled. “My parents want to meet you as well. Tell you what, we’ll take it in turns.”

“Yeah, er, okay,” he replied. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, maybe she’d had a bad history with her previous boyfriend’s parents, but it felt rude to ask her about her ex’s. He certainly would be if she ever asked him about Lara.

They agreed to a time, then re-joined the club inside (using the door and not the window), Jim feeling his heart flutter with nervousness. He wasn’t scared of leaving a bad impression – although come to think of it, he’d said some pretty stupid things in the past to Cassidy, yet the dragoness had ended up falling for him in the end. Maybe her parents would be just as easygoing? He’d find out soon enough.

2

“Still think this isn’t a good idea,” father mumbled, his hand flicking the indicator handle. Jim furrowed his brow as they made the turn, the houses cycling away on either side of the street.

“That’s like three times you’ve said that,” Jim replied. He didn’t get his father’s displeasure. He’d told him about the dinner as soon as possible, expecting encouragement, but instead all he got was a concerned beratement. It made him feel like something was wrong, but he couldn’t place what exactly. His dad only agreed to drive him after Jim said he’d just walk there. Perhaps his father was afraid of him getting mugged, and judging by Cassidy’s neighbourhood, Jim couldn’t blame him.

“I know you want to spend time with this girl, but I wish you’d consulted me before committing to this,” his father continued.

“She’s my girlfriend, dad,” Jim said. “what we do isn’t any of your business.”

“I know,” father sighed. “I’m just warning you, things don’t always go the way you expect them to. I thought I mentioned she’d be welcome at our place, however…”

“She wanted to take turns,” Jim replied with a shrug.

“Really,” father said, not like it was a question, but more of a statement. “I want you to call if there’s any problems, and be tactful, who knows how these Garchomp’s will react to a human dating their daughter.”

“I’ll lay the charms down,” Jim said confidently, his father rolling his eyes as they made another turn.

It wasn’t long before the car rolled to a stop, Jim stepping out onto the curb, dressed in one of his special jackets he saved for rare occasions. He glanced up at the homestead, remembering the time he’d walked Cassidy home back on their first date, the memory making him smile.

“Good luck, son, and don’t stick around for too long, I want you home by ten,” his father added, rolling up the window before pulling the handbrake. The car idled for a moment, then his father drove off, leaving the young man alone.

He turned and moved up to the porch, the front lawn loud with crickets. Light spilled through a few of the front windows in the house, but he couldn’t hear any voices. He’d never been in a Pokémon’s house before, he wondered what kind of living and sleeping arrangements they had, then remembered he was literally about to find out.

He moved up onto the porch, the steps squeaking, Jim raising his fist to the door. Before he even finished knocking, he heard footsteps coming from just inside, and the door opened a second later.

In the doorway was a Garchomp, although it wasn’t Cassidy, but the resemblance was uncanny. She was tall, at least seven feet, her snout decorated with the yellow star he was familiar with, the shape a little faded, much like how a human’s hair colour fades with age. She was wearing a white dress that was long and billowy, like a gown one could wear comfortably around the house on a hot summer’s day. There were cut-outs for her bicep thorns, each one as long as his whole hand, shaped like little white cones jutting from her blue scales.

Jim gasped as two clawed hands reached over his shoulders, pulling him into an overwhelming hug. He found himself smudged into another dragoness’ bosom, a strange, cinnamon-like scent filling his nose as the Garchomp breathed on his hair from above, her blubbery scales moulding around his body like a cast.

“You must be Jim! It’s so good to meet you at last!”

“It is?” Jim asked, parts of her oversized dress filling his mouth, muffling his voice. Saying he was bewildered by the display would be an understatement, but he nevertheless tried to wrap his arms around the dragon to return the gesture, his hands barely meeting on the other side of her thick torso.

“My daughter has told us much about you,” the dragoness hummed, continuing the odd show of affection for a moment before pulling away, but leaving one of her hands on his arm. “Oh, but you must be cold, standing out here waiting for silly old me to get the door.”

She’d answered his knock quickly, almost suspiciously so, but Jim couldn’t bring himself to correct her – the dragoness’ expression was so full of adoration, and unironically, it reminded him of his own mother’s doting expressions.

His smile faltered at the memory of her, just a little, but the Garchomp was quick to notice, her chops drooping into a frown.

“You must forgive me, would you like a drink? I was just making a hot chocolate.”

“I-” She ushered him off the porch, her hand large enough to cover his whole shoulder. It didn’t matter what answer he had for the lady, she brought him inside, clicking the door shut as she encouraged him into the foyer.

He began to undo his shoelaces, but the Garchomp put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Oh, never you mind that, you can wear your shoes, the place is filthy anyway.”

The panning view of their living room centred his vision, Jim quirking an eyebrow as he remarked at the dustless environment. The family portraits lining the dressers were polished, the counters were clean, and the carpet was stainless. The place was cleaner than his bedroom, if a bit sparse.

“No, it’s fine,” Jim said. “I’ll just leave them here.”

She looked like the insisting kind of mother who didn’t understand the word no, but she immediately differed to him. “As you wish. Come,” she said. “Cassidy’s just upstairs. Please, have a seat. Cassidy!” she called. “Your friend Jim is here!”

They walked between a pair of couches, facing a small television mounted on an even smaller desk. The walls were stacked with cardboard boxes, some of them marked with black writing, Jim reading off a few of the labels. Kitchen, Electrics, Plates and cutlery. He remembered Cassidy mentioning they’d only moved in recently, and the lack of small touches that were the heart of a lived-in home proved that, they looked right in the middle of unpacking.

“Thank you so much for coming,” the Garchomp matron added, beaming at him over her shoulder as she turned to the kitchen, not looking where she was going.

“Uh, good to be here,” he replied, clearing his throat. Despite her smiles he didn’t like the look on her face, it was like she saw him as a baby she was about to start playing peekaboo with. “Hot chocolate sounds nice.”

“Oh! Yes, of course, shouldn’t be a moment.” She turned mercifully around, picking up a kettle and filling it with water. While she did that, Jim moved around the room to distract himself, wandering over to one of those framed photos, picking it up and peering through the glass.

Three Garchomp’s smiled back at him, two larger ones on either side of a smaller one. The one on the left he recognised as the mom in this very room, while the one on the right was a stranger, but it was obviously the father. He was a big guy with a barrel chest and horns as thick around as Jim’s arm, standing a head taller than the female.

Jim’s unsure expression morphed into a smile as he regarded the smallest dragon. She was barely tall enough to reach her parent’s knees, the mother holding one stubby arm, the father the other as they all beamed at the camera in that captured moment. The Gabite’s underdeveloped horns were like two little capsules on either side of a tiny face, the bright, yellow eyes sitting above a thin mouth where two teeth poked out from the upper lip. Tiny Cassidy and her family were backgrounded by what looked like some kind of outcrop up on a mountain, a forest spilling over a vast countryside.

He put the photo back, taking a seat on the couch, drumming his fingers and staring up at various parts of the ceiling as he waited. The place was slightly enlarged than his own house, with the doorways wider and the ceiling much taller than normal. He blinked as the Garchomp’s arm appeared from behind him, a steaming mug in her hand.

“Here,” she cooed. “I hope it is hot enough for you.”

The drink was steaming, but the temperature of the air was just as stuffy. He guessed dragons preferred the hotter climates, Jim pulling at his collar, regretting his choice of jacket.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the Garchomp said, noticing his sweaty brow. “we usually have the heater on at this time of night, I forgot humans are less prone to the warmth.”

“No it’s fine,” Jim repeated, but the dragoness turned away, adjusting a dial on the wall just beside the television. As the room flooded with slightly cooler air, the Garchomp turned to beam at him again, clasping her hands in front of her as she stared at him, all with that great smile on her face.

He blew on his drink to look away, the liquid chocolate sticking to his taste buds in all the right ways. He glanced up at her over the rim of the mug, his chest twisting as she just looked at him contentedly.

“So,” he began, trying to act casual but sounding quite the opposite. “do you like living here? Compared to… wherever you lived before?”

“Oh, very much!” She nodded vigorously. She didn’t go on, Jim clearing his throat as he sipped at his drink.

“Cooool,” he said, dragging the word. Relief washed over him as he heard footsteps around one of the many branching hallways, a Garchomp he was all too glad to see walking round the corner.

“Heya,” Cassidy said, flashing him a warm smile. She was wearing a black singlet and a pair of shorts she was practically spilling out of, her hourglass hips defined against the clinging outfit. She turned to see her mother standing there, a wordless exchange passing between them as they met eyes.

“If you’ll excuse me, Jim,” the mother began, turning to another hallway. “I shall check on our supper, it should be ready soon.”

He watched her disappear round the corner, hearing a creaky door open somewhere out of view, gravel crunching as the Garchomp left the house. He raised a brow as he shot Cassidy a look. “Your dinner’s outside?”

“We roast our meals over a campfire out in the yard,” Cassidy explained. “Our appetites are a little too big for normal-sized ovens, and there’s not much room for a bigger one.”

“Neat,” he said, wondering what they had cooking back there. He could smell the faint whiff of roasting herbs, but nothing more specific.

“I hope mom wasn’t too clingy with you,” Cassidy added, sitting beside him. Her tail curled snugly round his leg as she leaned into him.

“She was fine,” he lied, but Cassidy shook her head.

“She’s like that with everyone we invite over,” she said. “The neighbours, that cat that wanders round here sometimes, everybody. She can’t help herself.”

“It wasn’t what I was expecting,” he chuckled, telling her about the hug. “Guess you’ve given them plenty of forewarning about me. Speaking of,” he added, gesturing between them. “They don’t, uh, know about our… well, the other night, do they?”

“You mean our boat ride?” she giggled. “I’m not sure. Garchomps have a good sense of smell, and I reeked of you that night, but they never mentioned it. Either way, they know we’re a thing, so maybe let’s just keep it at that.”

“It wasn’t exactly a topic I was going to bring up,” he said.

The two chatted for a while, about their studies and the Mythics’ progression this season, Jim wondering what was taking so long when he glanced at the clock. About a half hour later, the backdoor creaked open again, and he looked the way the mother had gone to see someone else striding into the room.

It was the father from the photo, though his youth was far behind him. The Garchomp was over eight feet tall, his horns just grazing the ceiling of the house, and he was wider than any dragon Jim had seen. A thick layer of blubber enveloped a huge set of arms and legs, dimpled with muscle. He was wearing a buttoned, short-sleeved check shirt the kind all middle-aged fathers wear, his monstrous legs squeezed into a pair of black pants.

The floor rumbled as he walked inside, Jim’s eyes turning to what he was carrying. In his hands was a platter, the kind one might see a waiter carry, only twice as large. Sitting on it was a full-blown pig, not a baby one but an adult, its bronzed hide glinting in the light. It was laying on a bed of greens, surrounded by various fruits and vegetables. By the way its mouth was agape, he could tell it had been spit-roasted.

“Woah,” was all he could say. He met the gaze of the male Garchomp over the crispy ears of the pig, his demeanour changing into one of seriousness. “Oh, uh, hello there Mister… Mister Cassidy?”

He wished he could bore his eyes out after saying that, the male Garchomp glaring at him for a moment before speaking, his rough voice so deep Jim could feel his bones shake with each word. “I hope pork shall suffice for tonight.”

“Yeah, it-it will,” he said, not sure what else to say. “I’m Jim, by the way, it’s nice to meet you.” He was getting flashbacks to his first visit to the drama club.

“I know who you are,” the Garchomp grumbled, making his way to the counter and setting the platter down. He glanced at Cassidy. “Please set the table, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” Cassidy replied. “I got it, Jim,” she said when he made to help her. He was left sitting there like a forgotten child as the Garchomps moved around him, the mother coming in with her hands black with soot, she must have been putting out their fire.

It felt like hours went by before the male Garchomp said that dinner was ready, Jim taking the seat next to Cassidy. The father took the seat on his right, and the mother sat across from Jim. The pig looked like it had been dipped in some kind of glazy sauce, the parents surrounding the main course with baked potatoes and steaming condiments, the sight mouth-watering

He wanted to dig in, but he waited patiently for one of the Garchomps to begin, so he wouldn’t look rude. The father eventually picked up a huge knife and a spoke, jabbing the tools into the pig’s belly and beginning to cut.

“Thank you for the meal, guys,” Jim began, his eyes darting from the beaming mother to the frowning father. “Where did you get the whole animal from?”

“Farms,” the father replied, destroying Jim’s attempt at making conversation. Ironically he preferred the surly father’s attitude over the mother’s, she was constantly smiling at him from across the table like a deranged killer, surely her cheeks were sore by now.

“Daddy drives out of the city every once and a while to get one,” Cassidy explained. “Says its cheaper than going through a butcher.”

“They upcharge the cost for delivery,” the male Garchomp added. “Plus they let me choose from their stocks.”

“Good thinking,” Jim said, but the dad didn’t reply, slicing a piece of pork into chunks. He speared them, adding them to the mother’s plate, then Cassidy’s, the females glazing their meat and veggies with sauce. When Jim thought the father wouldn’t cut his meat, the Garchomp proved otherwise, though he didn’t look happy to do it, slamming the pork onto Jim’s plate in a very curt manner.

Jim piled on his choice of sides, plucking a few extra pork slices from the main platter as well, but he couldn’t hope to match the appetites of the Garchomps. The father had a quarter of the pig alone on his plate, Cassidy and the mother only slightly less than him. They were wolfing down their meals like they’d been starved for days, their sharp teeth slicing through the meat with ease. Jim felt like they were only using cutlery for his sake.

“Now this is delicious,” Jim said, biting into a tough, but crumbling piece of crackling. “You’ve done a good job, Mrs…!” He still didn’t know their last names so he just called the mom that.

“Thank you,” the mother replied. “and please, call me Cheryl.”

“You’re only going to thank her?” the male dragon added. “we all contribuited.”

“Oh, I-I yes, thank you too, uh sir.”

The big Garchomp didn’t offer his name, huffing as he returned to his meal. Jim could have reached up with his knife and cut the tension, that’s how thick it felt. For a while the only noise was of forks clinking against plates, and even though Jim was no stranger to silent dinners, it was worse being with two adults he didn’t know.

“Daddy,” Cassidy said after a while. “Could you pass the gravy please?”

Trying to diffuse the tension, Jim made to grab the sauce cup, but Cassidy slammed her foot down on his own underneath the table. He rammed his fist into his mouth to stop himself from howling, the father looking at him warily.

“Everything alright?” the dad asked him.

“Peachy!” Jim answered, his leg throbbing with pain. “Just, uh, went down the wrong hole.” He pointed at his throat.

“Cass tells me you’re into a lot of sports?” the mother, Cheryl, asked, sipping at a glass of wine. They’d brought a bottle of Shiraz to the table, but none was offered to the young couple. “Theron, you were proficient at athleticism in your youth, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” the father answered, gulping down an alarming mount of his wine.

“He wasn’t so fussy about points and balls,” Cheryl went on. “I remember when we first met, he was in a cross-country endurance run for Ground types, and I was one of those people who holds out the water bottles during the route.”

“That was a long time ago,” Theron, the father, added. “My legs aren’t what they used to be.”

“But you still hike, though, right?” Jim asked, the father watching him suspiciously. “I was looking at one of your photo’s over there, you’re all up on a mountain.”

“Ah, that one,” Theron mulled. “Yes, I still go for walks from time to time. Marathons and triathlons truly build your longevity, not just temporary bursts of speed like competitive sports do, for example.”

Jim felt like that was a dig against him, the Garchomp giving him a bad case of side eye as he returned to his meal.

“-Well judging by that gut maybe you should-” Jim began to mumble some obscenity under his breath, but caught himself before he finished the thought. He didn’t want to insult Cassidy’s parents, not right in front of her at least.

“People have different preferences, dear,” Cheryl muttered as she sipped at her glass. Cheryl was starting on her third glass, the father on his second.

“You should have seen him the other day, daddy,” Cassidy added after a few bites. “Jim ran the entire length of the field in like twenty seconds, and that was only during training! Then there was that, ahem, tussle with the Charizard during the last game. His sport’s made him athletic as well as tough,” she added, reaching over to rub her paw on the inside of his elbow. Jim shifted in his chair, her delicate touch making his toes curl.

“So you’re volatile?” Theron mumbled. “My daughter sure knows how to pick them.”

Cheryl choked on a bit of wine, covering her snout with a claw, still all smiles even as she sputtered. Jim’s eyes flicked from the mother dragoness to the daughter.

“You remember the first time I visited the theatre club?” he whispered, Cassidy nodding. She seemed meek, always glancing at her father as though expecting a verbal reprisal. “I’m getting a lot of Kendra vibes from your dad.”

“He’s just being protective,” she replied in a low voice. “Always has been, don’t let it get you.”

He chewed his lip, not convinced but not wanting to say anything. He picked at the edges of his meal, Theron muttering something to Cheryl in a low voice. That was fine by Jim, he didn’t want to talk to the old man anyway.

He put his fork in his other hand, reaching over and scratching at the thorn poking out Cassidy’s bicep on this side, grinning stupidly as the dragoness twitched under his touch.

“Jim…” she cooed. “that tickles, quit it!”

“I like your outfit,” he said, teasing her as he drew circles across the spot where the bone met her scales.

“This is just home wear,” Cassidy said, shivering as he moved to the other thorn. “Might have worn something special, but we weren’t going out, so I just threw something on. Dressing up for a home meal wouldn’t have really worked.”

“If you wore something that exposed your arms, anything would have worked.” He continued running his nails up and around her thorns, his eyes on his food, using just touch to guide his attentions. “Your thorns are so cute.”

“Jim-!” Cassidy whispered. “stop, my parents are right here!”

“And? Look at you, regretting telling me about those nerves in your horns yet?”

Despite her complaints she wasn’t putting up much resistance, reluctantly chuckling along with him. He must have squeezed one too many times, as Cassidy started tickling him back, reaching over and jabbing her claws between his ribs. Not enough to hurt, but still running along the channels between the bones where he was just as sensitive as she was.

The two soon devolved into a play-fight of gently growing intensity, forgetting table etiquette and present company as they giggled like children.

His discarded cutlery clattered as a fist was brought down on the table, Jim flinching as he turned to see Theron had risen to his feet, his eyes narrowed to slits. Jim felt tiny in his oversized seat, doubly so under the Garchomp’s venomous expression.

“Is it not enough that you must touch my daughter right before me?” Theron spat. “I knew it was a mistake, all of this! How dare you act this way in my own home?”

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” Jim began, oblivious to the source of the outrage, but as Theron went to reply, Cheryl put a hand on her husband’s arm.

“Theron, dear, calm yourself,” she said. It was the first time Jim had seen her not smiling. Theron looked enraged, his demeanour just slightly lifting as he met the eyes of the matron Garchomp. His anger withered a little, Cheryl’s smile returning as she regarded the young couple. “Please, finish your meals before continuing you two. Theron worked hard to get this roast just right.”

“I’m sorry,” Jim said again, the mother waving a hand as if saying all is well, even though the father obviously thought otherwise. The rest of the dinner was eaten in awkward silence, and before long the male Garchomp chucked a napkin he’d been holding onto his plate.

“Excuse me,” Theron mumbled, his chair squeaking against the floor as he pushed it out of the way. He walked away with his head down, moving to the back door and pushing it open with a fist, disappearing into the night.

“Theron!” Cheryl got to her feet, but before hurrying after, she turned to the two youths. “Forgive him, Jim, he’s been troubled these past few months. Cass, make Jim feel at home for a while.”

She hurried after her husband, Jim and Cassidy watching her go, before man and dragon slowly turned to look at each other.

“What did I do?” Jim asked.

“Nothing,” Cassidy sighed. “he’s just…” She trailed off with a resigned shrug. “Come on, I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, following her lead as they stood up. He followed her down one of the hallways, turning up a short flight of stairs. At the top, Cassidy pushed open one of the doors on the left.

“This is my room,” she said, Jim moving into the doorway after her. Even though he didn’t know what to expect, what he saw still surprised him. She had a desk stacked with textbooks and notepads to one side, it looked like it had just been plucked out of a librarian’s office, messy and yet organised at the same time. On the opposite wall was a pile of pillows and blankets arranged in a rough circle, the mix of reddish cloths all scrunched up and as messy as, well, his bed. There was no mattress, however, the pillows laying on a big, plush quilt.

“Well well,” he said, appraising the room with a whistle. There were posters lining all four walls, depicting famous musicians and their album covers, as well as actors in the movies they were famous for, all posed in dramatic, Hollywood fashion. “Hey look there’s your uke.”

In the corner was a black instrument case propped against the wall, the lid open, Jim plucking the ukelele out and admiring it. “They say you can learn a lot about a person from the room they grew up in, and… well,” he said, looking around. “this doesn’t really tell me much.”

“I didn’t grow up here,” Cassidy reminded. She gestured to a stack of moving boxes in the corner.

“Oh. Man, sometimes I surprise myself with my own stupidity.”

She laughed, walking over and watching him pluck at the strings on the instrument, the notes coming out flat. “How the heck do you play this thing anyway?” he muttered.

“You’re not holding it right,” she said, taking his arms into her hands. “rest the bottom against your forearm. Yes, like that. Now put your fingers on the waist. Good. Place your thumb on the back of the neck, no the other way, there you go. Now just strum.”

“Strum what?” he asked.

“Anything! There’s no limits to music.”

He ran his thumb across the strings, a pleasant series of notes filling the room. He grumbled in frustration as he tried using his other hand to pluck out specific notes, Cassidy chuckling at his displeasure with the instrument. His notes sounded like record scratches, but after a while he managed to sound out part of a melody Cassidy was happy to teach him.

He reached the point she didn’t have to shadow him, the Garchomp watching him with covetous eyes as he strummed out a little tune.

“Hey this isn’t that hard,” he said, tapping his foot. “So is this your only instrument or… why are you taking your clothes off?”

She’d slipped her singlet off when he wasn’t looking, her boobs bouncing as they were set free from her garment, she wasn’t even wearing a bra. His eyes trailed down her crimson underbelly, her smooth scales catching the light from a streetlamp slipping through the window. She arched her back in a stretch as she worked on the waistband near her tail, smirking as he watched her tits gently sway with her movements.

“First you feel me up at the dinner table, and now you start playing my ukelele,” she said, her tail shooting out to smack the door shut. The way her hip cocked with the movement only exaggerated her curvy waist. “I’ve always fantasised about having a musician in my room, and seeing you play is hot as hell, pardon my language. I need this right now. I need you.”

“Wait a sec, woah.” he held up a patient hand, while the other started fumbling at his belt despite his outward hesitation. “What about your dad? And your mum? What if they pop up?”

“Poor choice of words, that,” Cassidy chuckled, staring at the conspicuous bulge in his pants. “They won’t interrupt us, don’t worry. Besides,” she added, using her biceps to squeeze her breasts together and deepen her cleavage, the orbs deforming like two balls of putty. “Mommy said to make you feel at home, and I intend to make that so.”

His arms were convinced, his jacket slipping off in record time. As he kicked his shoes away, hopping on one leg at a time as he peeled off his socks, he asked: “But what if they hear us? You woke up all the fish that other night with your moans.”

“My moans?” Cassidy exclaimed. “What about you? What was all this, Ooooooo-oo-oooooh! You were like a chimp in heat or something!”

“That’s because I knew we were alone! These pretences are completely different.”

“Just shut up and get on the nest, we’ll stuff pillows in our mouths, I don’t know.”

After she slipped off her shorts, she peeled off the front of her panties, thick strands of her liquid excitement connecting the cloth to her nethers. She hadn’t been lying, she was practically sopping this entire time.

His boxers were like a miniature tent, his erection hurting the more he stared at the Garchomp. He turned around, walking up to the rim of the ‘nest’, appraising it as he kicked his socks aside.

“So you don’t have a bed?” he asked. “Is that a Garchomp-only thing?”

“No, most draconics prefer to sleep in piles of blankets and pillows,” she explained. “It doesn’t bother you, does it?”

“No no, looks good, like when you sleep on the ground while camping, or something.”

“Good, now lay down.”

Jim felt the pads of her foot plant down on the small of his back, Cassidy kicking him from behind. His feet caught on a pillow, Jim tipping over like a see saw as he face-planted into the nest, his grunt of pain muffled by the fabrics.

“Ah! Geez, what was that?” he asked, looking over his shoulder as he splayed out on the ground in pain.

“I-I’m sorry! That wasn’t meant to be that hard!” she stammered, strutting over and proceeding to rub his head as if that would stop the pain.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he said shooing her away as he turned over. The plush layers of cloth below dampened the hard texture of the floor beneath, Jim surrounded by a pleasant softness. “Do you always get so frisky when you’re… like this?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Good to know.”

“Do you like the nest?” she asked.

He felt up the blankets near his hands, delighting in the soft material. It was protecting his naked skin against the cold floor, the plush so warm it was almost to the point of being hot. Perhaps Cassidy had been laying here just before the dinner, her hot butt-print still lingering.

“You don’t make your bed much, I’m guessing?” he asked. The sheets were messy even before she’d kicked him onto the nest, and there was no clear orientation as to which direction one would lay.

“Dragons aren’t so fussy about that,” Cassidy said. She draped a leg over his waist, planting her knees below his armpits as she straddled him. “We can leave as much a mess as we want.”

She ground her exposed loins against the fabric of his boxers, her splayed lips flexing against the woefully thin, but still obstructing, material, Jim grunting as the heat from her entrance bathed his crotch in her most intimate warmth.

“Not so loud,” Cassidy chided, Jim’s moan morphing from frustration to annoyance.

“It’s not my fault your snatch is so hot, how you’re not melting from the inside is beyond me…”

“You’ll be melting inside me in a minute, just take these things off.”

She hooked a claw beneath his underwear, his erection bouncing free, the shaft slapping against the subtle undercurve of her belly as she exposed him. She scooted on top of his hips, trapping his length between her powerful thighs, using the iron-hard muscles beneath her pudgy fat to squish him. She rotated her thighs the same way one would rub a stick between their hands to start a fire, Jim squirming beneath the pounds of scales as she twisted on him from above.

“You’re so cute when you do that face,” Cassidy cooed, grinning literally down at him as she trapped his dick between her soft thighs, resting the back of it against her soaking entrance, her fluids sliding down to glaze his balls in a sheen. “Humans get so adorable when you get them pinned. I could watch you writhe in my nest all night.”

The Garchomp’s neck snapped back as Jim pushed a pillow into her face, the dragoness giggling as he used his pelvic muscles to sit up, his chiselled abbs shining with his sweat as he kept the pillow in place. It was so humid in Cassidy’s room, and combined with her natural heat so close to him it felt like he should be steaming by now.

“There, now you can’t watch,” he said, a big blush on his face.

She clawed at the pillow in a mock attempt at struggling, even though she could have easily overpowered him. Jim rolled her onto her back, his hand disappearing into her scaley hide as he grabbed at her shoulder, running his palm over her thorns the way he knew she liked, his other palm still mashing the pillow into her face.

She angled her snout over the obstructing cushion, panting loudly as she mashed her snout into his lips, her tongue unfurling to lap at his teeth. As he opened his mouth to receive her kiss, her spicy scent coating his mouth in all the right ways, the Garchomp said: “Bite it.”

“What?”

“My tongue,” she said. “You won’t hurt me, just bite it.”

He complied, munching down on her tongue as she intruded on his lips. Her colourful reaction sent his heart racing, Cassidy moaning into his mouth as though his gums tasted like the most succulent of fruits, with the eagerness to match, the dragoness cupping the back of his head to deepen their connection.

They parted with a wet pop, Jim bracing himself against her shoulders as he lowered himself down her body, planting kisses on her bosom as he went. He stopped to admire the curve of her belly, the scales surrounding her belly button as smooth as glass. She had no channels or other dimples, her belly was just a subtle paunch that was all muscle, Cassidy laughing as he kissed her crimson stomach.

He went lower until his eyes were level with her crotch, Jim eager to see her splayed lips again. He shot the Garchomp an annoyed look when she closed her thighs, her flesh spilling over to block his view from her entrance. “Open up, Cass,” he grumbled.

“No,” she replied, her tail coming up between her legs to slap him on the butt. He didn’t realise Cassidy could get this excited. The combination of his touching her thorns, and the memories of their last encounter, must be bringing this side of her out, and he loved every minute of it.

Throwing any reservations aside, he grabbed her knees roughly, his biceps flexing as he pried her legs apart, the dragoness resisting him. When he overpowered her rock-hard thighs, she cooed like she’d just climaxed or something, Jim feeling a primal lust surge within him as he wasted no time, bringing his lips to her soaking entrance and beginning to chew.

The flesh on her thighs formed around his head like a mould, Jim sinking his hand into one as he parted her soft entrance with his tongue. Her delicate walls flexed over his tongue in waves, drawing him in with a strength that surprised him. Her fem-nectar pooled in his mouth, Jim delighting in its hot taste as he lapped at her soft walls.

“Oh, Jim,” Cassidy moaned from somewhere above him, the little noises she made as he ate her out like music to his ears. He ploughed as far as he could into her love tunnel, her spicy aroma filling all his senses like a drug. Any reservations he had about doing this with her parents not ten meters below them were gone, they could have walked in right now and he wouldn’t have stopped, everything about this was just so damn perfect.

He felt something touch his chin from below, Jim being pushed away from her loins. He looked down to see the fins of her tail on his neck, strands of her juices still connecting his lips to hers, the slimy mess breaking to wet her belly. Rather than ask her what was up he just shrugged at her.

“You’re going to finish me off too quickly with that tongue of yours,” she said, her tail coiling round his leg, applying just enough pressure to bring him to a kneel. “But I want to feel you filling me up when it happens, Jim. I need it.”

She wrapped her flexible tail over his waist, the appendage packed with muscle, easily bringing his waist to hers. He stopped her before they could mate, however, holding up a reserved hand. “Wait wait wait, I have an idea. Get on your hands and knees.”

“W-What?”

“Turn over on your front, I’ve got something in mind.”

She was panting hard as she rolled onto her stomach, flipping so that her head was facing towards him. “No no turn around,” he added. Cassidy flashed him an unsure smile as she did so, crawling along the nest like how a dog circles their bed before sleeping.

“I like it when you order me around,” Cassidy sighed, her generous cheeks facing him, her tail curled protectively over her rear.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Ever since you bossed that Haxorus around I’ve been… thinking. Do it some more, Jim, I think it’s kinky.”

“Okay. Uh…” Now was the time to say something sultry and bossy, like a cool one-liner in a movie, something to fuel his ego. “Uh, m-move your tail you wench?”

“What did you call me?!” She glared at him over her shoulder.

“You said to be kinky!”

“How is calling me that anywhere near kinky?”

Their argument soon resolved into agreeing to disagree, Cassidy shaking her head as she complied with his request. She raised her tail, exposing the wonderful sight of her rear. Her hips were wider than Jim’s, her sizeable rump spilling over her massive thighs like two beanbags. They were dimpled with muscle, just firm enough to be springy and maintain their perfect orb shapes.

His eyes trailed up to the channel running along her spine, her muscular back only accentuated from this angle. Her reddish scales stopped along her obliques, her backside blue and dark like the night sky. She grinned as she noticed he was transfixed, wagging her tail back and forth to draw his attention back to her cheeks.

She gripped one of her orbs, her scales bulging between her fingers as she pulled. She exposed her pink loins, her puffy lips stretching in invitation. They were swollen with his earlier attentions, beads of her nectar drooping down her entrance to wet the insides of her plump thighs.

He approached her, feeling like he was coming up behind a horse by how much of her there was, the dragoness watching him curiously. Jim wasn’t one for words, clearly, so he let his actions speak for him, raising a hand and bringing it down on her ass, clapping it. Her scaley flesh rippled like the surface of a disturbed pond, the Garchomp gasping as he clapped the other one.

Cassidy arched her back beautifully as she tensed up, his touch making her coo in delight. Jim got on his knees so that their waists lined up, spreading her cheeks as he aimed with his erection.

His glans gently pressed against her vulva, her heat permeating his tip as he drew closer, making him shiver in anticipation. For just a second he delayed plunging into her, instead taking generous handful of her ass and thighs, the pudgy layers of fat shifting as he dug for the harder muscles beneath, her scales moving and flexing under his fingers wonderfully.

He pushed the tip of his member into her, the two sharing a moan of delight as her narrow passage engulfed him. He used her cheeks for leverage, pulling himself all the way to the base, skin meeting scales with a soft clap. Her liquid excitement drenched around his shaft as he hilted himself, her walls clenching around him as she pushed back to deepen their coupling.

“Oh, oh wow,” Cassidy said, batting her eyes at him as she threw her head back in delight. “You can get so… so deep like this.”

They fell into a slow rhythm, savouring the moment and taking their time enjoying one another, Jim grunting as he bottomed out inside her when Cassidy bumped back against him, quickly getting the picture. His eyes went crossed as her cruel walls massaged him in gruelling waves, as though trying to force out his emission through force alone.

“Why aren’t you moving?” Cassidy asked, lowering until she was resting her chin on her hands, lifting her hindquarters as she bumped into him, Jim grunting as her soft, silky walls caressed him.

“Just… just getting my bearings,” he sighed, everything from the stomach down feeling warm and tingly. He was glad he was already on his knees or he might have keeled over by the wonderful friction of her draconic vent. Seeing her like that, with her chest spilling over the pillows, her ass raised high into the air, her fat cheeks absorbing his hips into their soft, scaley depths as he plunged into her vagina, was sating his most selfish male desires in ways he couldn’t begin to describe.

“We don’t have all night,” Cassidy said, snapping him out of his daze. “my parents will get suspicious if we dilly dally.”

“Who says dilly dally anymore? That’s like the first time in years I’ve heard that,” he mumbled, sliding his hands up and down the small of her back, trying to find something to distract himself from the maddening pleasure of her walls raking his shaft. Her muscles shifted wherever he reached out to touch them, her blue scales meeting the red ones in a line that drew directly across her sides. Her horns were too far for him to reach – he could imagine tugging on them like the reins of a horse would excite her – but her thorns were not, his hands gliding over her cheeks towards the white cones on her thighs.

“Oh!” Cassidy panted, her walls clenching around his length as he toyed with her thorns, glad he could get a one-up on the dragoness. He drew random shapes on the protrusions, soon finding which places Cassidy reacted to the strongest. He could only imagine what it must be like to have your nerve endings being directly played with, it was probably driving her crazy, the way she wriggled and struggled, but never tried to stop him even though she was brawny enough to do so.

Cassidy rolled her hips, making sure each angle of their thrusts was different than the last. Her fluids made their mating slippery, Cassidy slowly upping their speed as her mounting pleasure got the better of her. It was all Jim could do to take her by her love-handles and hold on, in more ways than one. He couldn’t reach her boobs from this position to try and tease her some more, Jim scrunching his face as the muscular walls of her wet tunnel tightened around his length like a noose made from silk. Every bit of movement she made down to the smallest twitch sent his mind into a frenzy, the young man feeling he could melt into a puddle if this kept up for long.

An idea fought through the haze of his euphoria. He couldn’t reach her bicep thorns or bosum, but there was another appendage right in front of him.

“-Oh my… gosh, Jim!” Cassidy whined, turning her cloudy eyes over her shoulder. He was kissing the fin scutes lining the back of her tail, the appendage like a rubber hose he could scarcely hold with just the one hand. He braced the appendage against his chest, flipping the end over his shoulder. With the base of her tail stretching the top of her pink entrance, he could kiss the deepest parts of her tunnel with his length much easier, the dragoness moaning and grunting as he plunged into her depths.

He held onto her tail like a lifeline, meeting Cassidy’s needy thrusts, his thighs clapping audibly as they met her meaty hips. All his senses were being overloaded, Cassidy’s little moans, the heat of her vent, the sweat dripping down his chest and falling to her ample rear, it was igniting a primal, male desire to mate, Jim rutting into her ample rear like a bull in heat as he let the feeling take over his faculties.

The world drained away until only Cassidy remained, the Garchomp burying her head in the pillows as their pace increased from gentle to desperate, the two giving themselves over to their mounting pleasure in earnest, their bodies locked in a sensual dance. Cassidy dug her claws into the nest as her efforts slowly receded, Jim finding himself dictating the pace as he fucked her into the floor.

“I… I can feel your heartbeat through my… my…” Cassidy trailed off as she buried her snout in a pillow, moaning, or rather shouting, into the fabric as he thrust into her harder and faster. He redoubled his efforts, retrippled might have been the better word, pulling himself into her roughly, one hand on her tail and the other on her hip, pulling himself out until only his glans touched her soft lips before spearing back in again.

Cassidy snarled like an angry snake, her head rocking in time with his thrusts as she lay there, her insides seizing up as she came. She planted one side of her face on the pillow, turning her gaze over to the far wall. Her expression could only be described as a happy mental patient, her features slack and full of glee, her long tongue lolling out of her mouth to drape around her chin.

He could feel her juices struggling to slide past his girth, the liquid leaking out her of pillowy lips to wet his balls. His own climax threatened to boil soon after, Jim plunging once, then twice more as he toppled over the edge. His first load was already pumping into her by the time he took handfuls of her ass, pulling her hips as close to his as possible to ensure he painted her white. They both shuddered as though suddenly cold, the pressure inside Jim finally breaking as he shot another load into her waiting womb.

Cassidy’s passage tensed in waves, as though milking him for everything he had, encouraging spurt after spurt as her slimy walls sealed against his glans. It was almost painful, but a good painful, his senses dulling until all he felt was her blissful tunnel wrapped over his cock and nothing else.

With every pulse of pleasure, a warm glow followed, his knees going weak as her walls forced out one last rope of his seed, Jim doubling over Cassidy’s rump as fatigue wrapped him up in its haze. Her tail slapped him on the cheek as he fell onto her, but he didn’t care, all he could focus on was Cassidy’s heaving body, her soft thighs, her flexing muscles beneath her smooth hide.

He slid off from the Garchomp as though falling off a felled log, his dick slipping out of her, the pair twitching as her walls slid blissfully against his length one last time. A lewd mix of their fluids dribbled out of her vagina, Jim watching it splash against the nest and ruining the fabrics there.

He flopped onto his back, turning to see Cassidy in a similar state as he was, her chest rising and falling quickly, her muscles twitching as a few aftershocks lanced through her. She was facing away from him, her hindquarters still high in the air as though she hadn’t quite realised he’d pulled out.

“I love you, Cass,” he blurted out. He hadn’t been thinking, he’d just said it. He covered his mouth as if that would help, tension rising through the post-coital bliss permeating him. Her pants stopped, the Garchomp laying still. Maybe she fell asleep and hadn’t heard him?

Slowly, the Garchomp turned her head, Jim looking from her yellow snout to her blazing eyes, Cassidy shooting him a covetous expression. After batting her eyes at him, she pulled him into a tight hug, kissing him first on the nose, then on the lips.

“I… I know that you do,” she said, exposing her teeth in a small smile. “What we have here, between us, it’s something that doesn’t need to be said out loud, because what I feel every time I see you, Jim, is something… more, something I just can’t put into words.”

Jim hadn’t been expecting the verbose admission, but he was glad she hadn’t reacted poorly like a certain ex did the last time he’d said those words. He wrapped his arms over her shoulders, breathing in her spicy scent, delighting as her overwhelming embrace surrounded him in a prison of soft scales. He exhaled as they surrendered to the fatigue, simply enjoying each other’s company for a while.

Chapter 9

1

The Mythics progressed smoothly through the season, the only bump in the road towards the finals being a tied game. Both teams would have a rematch in the semi-finals, Jim hoping he’d be able to recover in time and lend a hand to his friends. It was difficult going so long without being on the field, sports had been a part of his life for a long time and it was driving him crazy being out of action, but he had to trust his teammates to see the season through.

Jim always told himself he was integral to the Mythics, but in his absence, the team seemed to be getting on just fine without him, and a part of him was troubled by that. Not to say that he was disappointed they hadn’t lost. Holding the sideline was the one thing he knew how to do well, and he didn’t want to be forgotten or left out. Maybe he was just being selfish. Hell, he believed he was better than any other wingman out there, but it was the one thing he loved doing, and being good at it was the cherry on the top, he didn’t want to lose that.

And yet, looking at things now, perhaps it wasn’t the only thing he was good at. The drama club, the Pokémon actresses and their troubled little group, he’d helped them out, had he not? More than that, he’d saved them, pulled them out of their dingy hall and into a spotlight they’d always wanted but were too scared to take.

But who was he kidding? He’d be an ass if he told himself they owed him. In reality he wouldn’t have batted an eye at their troubles if Cassidy hadn’t been there in the first place, and the same worry he had about the Mythics still persisted with the drama club – they were all really good actors, and the club would go on, Jim or Jimless, it was obvious to the young man he wasn’t all that needed anymore, he’d done his part, that was all there was.

Perhaps all his time spent with Cassidy had forced him to learn a bit of humility, or he was just being stupid, that was always a possibility. She’d made him a better person, that was why he loved her, their encounter that night in her house always fresh on his mind. What he’d said hadn’t been spur of the moment, he’d meant it with all his heart, even when her father had given him a nasty look when he left later that night. He hoped one day to get on her father’s good side, but for now he was just going to focus on Cass and his studies.

“Light four, please!”

-And the drama club, of course. Kendra’s voice snapped him back into the present, Jim hitting the switch on the spotlight in front of him. He was up and behind the curtains on a catwalk with Caius, the two in charge of lighting. It wasn’t very engaging work, but he got a nice view of the ongoing play, and it was a perfect place to share some private time with Cassidy whenever she snuck up to see him. Unlike the season, the play had seen a few cut corners recently.

After a few calls in sick and some rewrites with the manuscript, the production was delayed as the weeks rolled on by. November was right around the corner and not even half the play had been fully rehearsed, and the tension could be seen on the faces of the Pokémon, Jim tracking Amelia’s half-frowning face with the light as she walked across the stage. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days, not good for someone who’d been chosen as the main character.

Props were a whole other matter. Isaac’s uncle had agreed to loan some set pieces for free, but not until days before the play was set to begin, as that was his earliest convenience. For now the club would have to practice on a blank stage, and it didn’t leave a lot of room to get used to a proper set. Costumes were the same story, but at least Mrs. Felix was more reliable than some random uncle Isaac happened to bring up months ago, the professor managing both the costumes and the makeup.

The actors, knowing time was of the essence, tore through the plot from one end to the other, rushing onto the stage toi practice choreography, Jim lingering off to the side as he watched the club progress. Amelia would be taking the main lead, and it was amusing to watch her go at it with Sasha, who’d been chosen as the main antagonist of the plot. The Lapras was probably the nicest person out of the whole club and had probably never been in a fight, Sasha was pretty much her entire opposite, it was an interesting clash that was no doubt on purpose.

Cassidy’s character was to be the lead singer in a musical score that would happen roughly halfway through the play, because who else would she be? When he asked her if she didn’t want to go for one of the more prominent roles, the Garchomp merely replied that Amelia and Sasha were way more suited to the attention than she was. Despite her differences with the Salazzle, it seemed the play was setting aside whatever loathing they had for each other, it seemed mutual benefit forced a measure of cohesion.

His concussion fared a little better with each day that passed, until Jim slowly felt normal again, the young man racing up to see the campus nurse as soon as the recovery period she’d given him was over. Cassidy had insisted on coming as well, the dragoness taking a seat in the corner as the medical staff put him through some basic tests.

“Your balance and coordination are certainly better than before,” the nurse admitted, peering over the top of her clipboard as Jim pumped a victorious fist. “though I cannot be certain you have fully recovered. Your movements and by extension your, well, cognitive functions seem a little slow.”

“I was like that before I got brained,” Jim explained, waving the implied insult away. “So I’m good to go, right? Yeah?”

“Listen to the nurse, Jim,” Cassidy chided. “if you’re still too injured to play, you should take her advice. If you’d seen yourself when that game got ugly…”

He was about to say something like you’re not my mom, when Cassidy flashed him a worried smile. He supressed any sort of retort he had, his shoulders sagging as he sighed. “Alright, alright. So what’s your prognosis?” he asked, turning to the nurse.

“While I can appreciate the young miss’s concerns, there is nothing of serious note to stop you from returning to your sporting activities. However,” she added, holding up her pen. “I hope it need not be said that you avoid any sort of punching or brawling with humans or Pokémon, I do not want to see you back here, young man.”

“You won’t!” Jim said, pointing a finger-gun at the nurse and winking.

“That’s what they all say…” the nurse sighed.

“You’ll still try to make the drama club sessions, won’t you?” Cassidy asked as they left the building, wlaking up the winding campus paths. “If your team gets through to the finals, you’ll have that plus the exam batch we’ve got coming up. I don’t want you to neglect either of them, but…” She shrugged at him.

“Neglect, shmeglect,” Jim replied. “You know I wouldn’t miss your play. I’m as much a Mythic as I am a drama clubber, thanks to that Charizard’s stunt.”

“Almost makes me want to thank him,” Cassidy chuckled. “Speaking of, let’s head to the beach this afternoon, we could-”

“Grab a skiff and head out to the Isles? Do some spooning?”

“I was going to say study, but we can make time for that as well. Spoon study.” She laughed.

Jim was allowed back into the season, Mr. Bahril clapping him on the shoulder when he told the coach the nurse had given him the all clear. Despite his overall eagerness to get back on the field, his stomach still knotted with apprehension when the day of the next game arrived. What if he was too rusty, messed something up? Maybe he’d been right all along and he would get replaced.

But on the bus ride to where the next game would take place, he and Cassidy got a bit of privacy on the second level of the double-decker, the Garchomp relieving his tension, if one caught the drift, giving him a clear head before the kick off.

The game was rough going, as one would have expected it to be, but at least their opponents this time didn’t have a Pokémon backing them up. The rules of the season were tough – once a team lost a game that was it, they were eliminated from the competition, so the teams who’d come this far would have to be good. But that went both ways, and by halftime the Mythics were up by two points, Jim doing his part by scoring the goal that put them up on the scoreboard. It was still quite the battle, however, Jim and the team shoving many slices of oranges into their mouths as they recovered.

The teams went back at it hard after the horn blared, but the score didn’t end up changing when full-time was reached, the Mythics securing their place in the semi-finals with the last scream of the whistle. The Mythics were ecstatic at the development, Jim being rewarded with a heavy smooch from Cassidy right before the team went to get changed, the boys one step closer to the end of the season.

“Settle down, everyone,” Mr. Bahril said during their cooldown. “we’ve still got another game before the finals, so don’t get a hard on just yet.”

It was difficult not to, the past few seasons the Mythics usually got dropped during the quarter-finals, but now the grand championship was in sight, and the team’s morale was high in no small part to Jim’s return. As long as nothing went wrong, the season would be in the bag.

2

“Something’s wrong!”

When Jim and Cassidy returned to the hall the next day, there was an ambulance parked just outside the doors, the red and blue emergency lights spinning in silence. The driver had rolled it up through the surrounding meadow, tire tracks leading down the incline to one of the side gates nobody used.

The moment the Garchomp spotted the vehicle, she fell into a run after stating the obvious, Jim jogging to catch up with her as she made for the hall.

The drama club was just inside, their backs to the door as they regarded something Jim couldn’t see at this angle. He saw Kendra just off to the side, chewing on one of her nails hard enough to deform it. He tapped her on the shoulder and asked her what happened.

“It’s Bernard,” she explained, her tone somewhere between furious and panicked. “He was up on one of the catwalks and it gave out, I think he broke his arm.”

He peered over the Typhlosion’s shoulder, seeing two paramedics kneeling beside a prone Bernard. The Blastoise was sprawled out like a snoozing alligator, his massive shell reaching one of the medic’s shoulders at its highest point. Jim grimaced when he saw his arm was bending the wrong way.

“You think?” Jim asked sarcastically. “Look at it, it’s in reverse! What was he doing up there anyway?”

“Well someone wasn’t here to keep an eye on the lights, so he volunteered!” Kendra snapped. “He’ll be okay for the play though, he’s… he’s tough.”

Jim glanced over to see one of the catwalks hidden just above the curtains was split down the middle, the strips of metal dangling like a broken rope swing. There was an obvious imprint on the stage below the damaged spot, the wood cracked and splintered in a circular shape. The walkway hadn’t been able to handle Bernard’s weight it seemed.

“Didn’t his shell protect him?” Cassidy asked, appearing on Kendra’s right.

“I think so, he was moving before,” Kendra mumbled. “Well, writhing technically. He’s okay, but. Sure he is…”

With the help of a few of the Pokémon they managed to place him on a stretcher, one of the medics, a Groudon, made sure Bernard’s head didn’t move so much.

“Geez,” Jim said as the club made way for the medics, wheeling the injured Blastoise out to the ambulance. Bernard plugged the back of the van much like how a cork plugs a bottle, leaving little room for the medics to squeeze in beside him. When Cassidy asked the human paramedic for the prognosis, he shook his head grimly.

“His collarbone may be fractured, and the arm has been dislocated from the shoulder. Has his family been notified?”

“Yes, the school’s called them,” Kendra replied.

The paramedic shut the ambulance doors, the van reversing down the hill towards the adjacent street. The sirens whirred to life as they pulled out onto the road, the noise slowly fading as the van sped away.

For a while nobody said anything, the club looking at each other cluelessly. It was Jasmine who eventually spoke first. “D-Did he say collarbone? Is that… bad?”

“Of course it’s bad!” Caius snapped, the Lucario crossing his arms. “I had a friend who needed surgery after breaking her collarbone!”

“Surely he’ll be better off than that, he’s a Blastoise!” Amelia added. “And, well, he was still conscious, so that’s good, right?”

“There’s nothing good about this!” Kendra exclaimed, the group going silent as she ranted. “He couldn’t have fallen two or three months earlier or later? What are we going to do about his role in the play?!”

“He’ll be back before the day,” Cassidy tried, but the Typhlosion shooed her away.

“And if he’s not? What do we do then? Jesus Mary, why now of all times?”

As she dug her nails into her temple in anger, Jim raised an explanative hand. “Can’t you just write his bit out?”

“No, Jim, I can’t just right his bit out, he’s supposed to be the antagonist’s right hand, and he’s prominent in the third act!”

She was almost shouting at this point, but Jim was used to her raising her voice by now, keeping his cool as he replied. “Alright so just get one of the others to take his place.”

“And who’s going to do that?” she asked. “It’ll be jarring enough to have the same actor in two different roles, but now someone has to get double the amount of workload with barely any time left? Any volunteers for that?”

Everyone who Kendra looked to either shied away or shook their heads. Jim was no expert, but he could tell that acting as two different characters would be a bit of an ask, especially since the more experienced of the bunch would be busy with their own main character roles. This wasn’t to mention the number of lines they’d need to remember, he himself could barely recall his lecture notes not five minutes after writing them. Only someone brave or incredibly stupid would think to put their hand up.

“I will do it.”

All eyes turned to the volunteer, each set wide with various states of disbelief. The young man planted his hands on his hips, looking stoically out into the distance as he waited for the club’s reaction.

“You’ll find someone?” Kendra asked skeptically.

“No I mean I will play Bernard’s part,” Jim elaborated. A murmur passed over the club, Jim feeling himself swell with pride when he saw most of them nodding along in agreement.

“That could work,” Cassidy mused, turning to address the contemplating Typhlosion. “Think about it, he’s been around for a while, and he’s been watching us rehearse, he’s even read the script as much as we have, I’d say he’s the best choice.”

“Only choice,” Kendra corrected. “Time to see if the critic can actually act straight. Consider yourself enlisted, Jim.”

Although she didn’t seem happy, the rest of the club looked relieved, slowly filing back into the hall one after the other as they were left with no choice but to continue on with rehearsals while they waited for news on Bernard.

Before Jim could follow the group inside, Kendra stopped him, the Pokémon waiting until they were alone. “You listen here Jim,” she began. “you better not screw me on this, you hear me? You fuck up in any way and I will fuck, you, up, understand?”

“Chill,” Jim said, raising his hands like she was about to strike him. “Get your panties detwisted, this is no biggie.”

“Everything I’ve ever dreamed of is on the line here, I will not chill,” she replied. Despite her obvious fury there was a certain pleading behind her words, her voice cracking not with anger but something else. “You feel lost in any way you come straight to me, is that clear? I’m not going to let you screw things up for me, I’m c… I’m c-couuuuu…. Urghh…”

It was like the next words had to be vomited out, which was objectively true for the Typhlosion. “I’m c…. counting on you.”

“Yeah you are,” Jim said with a satisfied nod, relishing in how irked she looked.

“Just shush and get inside, your lines won’t remember themselves.”

“Hey you’re keeping me held up,” he pointed out. He gestured at the doors. “After you, lady.”

3

“’W-Where is the honour in that? You were to send me the funds before our arrangement, not after, as we had agreed!’”

“As per our agreement,” Kendra corrected. “Learn to read, Jim, that’s the fourth time you’ve gone off script.”

Like the mindset of a food critic, Jim understood how much easier it was to eat his pie than to make it. Kendra was ruthless in his practice sessions, no doubt because she wanted to be in his shoes for once, telling him how to correct his errors. She wasn’t being like this purely for spite, of course, she took this club very seriously, but it always came to a point he could no longer tolerate the Typhlosion’s comments in silence.

“Who even wrote this dialogue?” he replied, wiggling his paper at her. “Nobody talks like this, this reads like my first creative writing assignment I had back in high school.”

“Look in the mirror,” Kendra snapped. She put on a stupid accent. “’Creative schmalative’, that’s how you talk. Let’s move on, Tira you’re next.”

The four-foot Pichu nodded, glancing at her script and resuming her lines. “Let’s not raise our voices, good sir, can I offer you a drink for your nerves?”

“No,” Jim answered, reading off his line. “Please let your master know the deal is off,” he continued with a raised finger.

“This isn’t Shakespeare, don’t be so dramatic,” Kendra chided. She was the epitome of back seating and it was getting on his nerves.

“You do it then,” Jim replied. “Show us all how Kendra the Complainer does things on the stage.”

Tira snickered into her hand while the Typhlosion’s neck spat flames. “I’m not the one who volunteered!” she exclaimed, but before their argument could devolve into a screaming match, Kendra called it off by waving her hands in surrender. “I can’t deal with this right now, I’m taking a break.”

“But we’re the ones working,” Jim replied, but Kendra was already moving to the coffee machine, his words drowning out over the buzz of the grinder.

Jim plonked down on a nearby chair, sighing as he looked over his, or technically Bernard’s, lines. At least the rest of the club was cutting him some slack, the Pokémon a little too agreeable to tell him how he could improve – that was Jim’s job after all. At least the hall hadn’t been sectioned off for more than a couple days.

Some builders had come in the day after Bernard’s accident, taping off the catwalks while they fixed the broken walkway. Although they were assured it had only broken thanks to excessive weight, the club was still nervous standing anywhere below the walkways, moreso when someone was asked to go up and change the lighting angles. Yet another thing to put on the ever-growing pile of shortcomings.

“Not so easy being on this end, is it?” someone said, Jim looking up to see Sasha walking over from stage left. “At least you got pity points, taking Bernard’s place like that. Pretty gutsy. And maybe a little foolish,” she added with a grin.

“That sums me up pretty much,” Jim sighed. “I don’t get it though, I mean, look at this bit here on page eighty-one, my character literally switches to the dark side because everyone’s been mean to me since the start. Reads like fanfiction or something.”

“Don’t talk smack about fanfic,” Sasha said. “There’s many other parts that make your character question his morals. Did you read through chapter two?”

“No, Bernard’s not in that scene.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve only been reading the parts only you are in?”

“Well…”

“Oh my f- You must at least grab some context on what’s going on. Here, let’s read along, shall we?”

It was like being back in primary school during reading time, Sasha taking the liberty of reading aloud as Jim followed along. “Say, can I sit down?” she asked after a while. Rather than get herself a chair she squeezed into the one he was in, her toned thigh pressing against his own as she sat basically on his lap. Her legs were dimpled like an athlete’s, as if there were steel cables bulging from just beneath her scales, Jim looking her lower half over with a curious brow raised. Were her legs always that long?

He cleared his head with a shake. Whatever game she was playing, he wasn’t going to give her a reaction, so he let her sit there right on top of him, gesturing to continue with the script. The question of why he wasn’t trying to push her away danced on the Salazzle’s muzzle, but she didn’t ask it, instead reading off the lines until finally prodding him about something else. “So. How are things with you and the dragon? You two disappeared that night on the beach.”

“We needed someplace that was… quiet,” he replied with a smirk, the Salazzle glancing from the script to his face.

“Yes I thought her scent was stronger on you as of late,” she murmured. “And she complained that my pheromones were stinking you up. You know, I heard she comes from a very poor background.”

“You heard?” he repeated. “how do you even-? Look it doesn’t matter to me what situation her family’s in.”

“But it matters to her,” Sasha replied. “You ever wonder if maybe she’s after you for financial reasons?”

“Like you with all your past boyfriends? How much money has your pheromone breath gotten you, couple hundred?”

“Come now, there’s no need for that, I’m trying to help you,” she said, a little irritated but quickly composing herself. “You don’t think she’s ever after you for that? The things you wear tells us all what kind of money you’ve got stashed away, Jim. Can you say with absolute certainty that I’m wrong?”

“You’re wrong.”

“And are you being genuine? Is she? You’ve got that starry look in your eyes that tells me you’re convinced, but when she says that she loves you, is her expression the same?”

“Yeah…” he began, choking on his next words. She’d said more than that, that night in her house, but it was still implied, right? You say more when you say less, was that how it went? He didn’t mind, and yet… He’d often entertained the thought of her saying those words back to him, how wonderful it would be to hear them.

“Oh you poor thing,” Sasha said when he was silent. “She hasn’t said those words at all, has she?”

“She doesn’t need to,” he tried.

“But you’d like to hear it, wouldn’t you? You’re a sweet boy, Jim. A little naïve, but sweet. I may be a Salazzle, but it looks like even dragons know how to dance in circles.”

He pushed her off, and not gently either, the Salazzle just catching herself before tripping over. She didn’t appear angry, but he did, and that only fuelled his annoyance at her.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but you better shut up,” he said, his anger dulling his wit. “Go do whatever it is you do, Sasha. Thanks for your ‘help’.”

He turned away, shaking his head as he looked around the hall, thinking some quiet would do him some good and get him to concentrate. He took a seat up in the back rows of the stands, the chair squeaking as he sat down and looked over his lines. As was the case whenever he had to do homework, he soon found himself searching for distractions, and he eventually spotted Cassidy coming out from backstage, chatting with Amelia and Tira. He was about to go down and talk to her when he hesitated.

Just why had Sasha said those things? Was that how girls fought over guys? He might have been thinking too highly of himself, but he could tell, and had been outright told, that Sasha had a thing for him. If this was all just a ploy, she was certainly going all-out, and she was starting to get on his nerves. This was why one should never date a Salazzle. They were sly and manipulative, especially when it came to getting their way.

He went down and got the Garchomp’s attention, the dragoness immediately turning away from her conversation with Amelia to smile at him, asking how he was going with Bernard’s lines.

“Great, really good,” he replied, coming up with nothing as he made to go on.

“Kendra can be difficult,” Cassidy continued. “but you know how she is, and you know what you’re doing,” she added, not as a joke but as a fact, because she knew him well enough to be sure.

“No I love being on the other end with all you guys,” he said, waving at the club around them. “but, I love you more, Cass.”

“Oh, Jim,” she said, coming in and pulling him into her embrace. Everything about her filled his heart with warmth, her scales, her thorns, her spicy aroma, but her following silence tempered his optimism like a cold stab, and his smile faded ever so slightly as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

When she pulled back, he was grinning again, putting on an air of aloofness as he said: “Well, you’re top two most definitely, I think you know what’s number one.”

“Yeah, balls,” she joked, grinning when he mock-frowned at her. “Want to go act out scene fifteen together? Me and Amelia need to practice it.”

He said that he would be glad.

4

The Mythics had tied with the Trojans a couple games back, where even the golden point extension had run out of time. It was an uncommon situation, but not exactly unheard of. As a result, the crowd that gathered to watch the rematch was especially large, many people turning up to the campus hours before the match was set to begin.

Jim couldn’t wait to get down there and join his friends, but his mathematics professor decided he needed to push the exams up a few weeks, claiming to be busy on the official exam week, because of course he was. So Jim and his classmates had to sit the test on the same day as the rematch, with barely an hour’s worth of breathing room between the end and the kick-off.

Jim was nervous. About the game, not the test, which was a big change from last year. He had studied almost every afternoon with Cassidy, as she would be sitting the test as well, and it just went to show that without her he’d be thoroughly screwed. His tiny pea-brain had much to keep track of – the game, the play and his lines, the assignments and exams – that he couldn’t give any particular one enough focus to actually get something done with them.

But Cassidy was always there to keep him in check, no questions, no thanks needed. How could Sasha even entertain the idea she was being dishonest? If only she’d been in his shoes when he actually went in and understood the typical, vague questions that all mathematical questions usually were, Cassidy’s notes burned so well into his cranium he could recall them with clarity.

Usually he walked out of a test with a doubtful mind, wondering if his rushed questions had all the proper working shown, only stopping his frantic equations right when the time was up. But this time he’d actually finished early, joining the brainiacs as they sat around watching the scrubs struggle on. It felt great to be learning.

“What can I do to pay you back?” Jim asked her as they walked out together, telling her all about how he felt good this time around.

“I’ve… already gotten my reward,” she said, holding his hand tightly as she looked away. “You don’t owe me anything, Jim. Really. Besides, we’ve still got more exams in a few weeks, right now you’ve got a game.”

“Oh sh-! Shmoly!” he said, suddenly remembering he was on a timer. “We gotta be down there an hour ago!”

They took off in a sprint, racing between the lecture halls and squeezing past humans and Pokémon going both ways down the sheltered walkways. They heard the crowd before even seeing it, Jim leading Cassidy by the hand as they took a shortcut straight into the changing rooms. She bid him farewell when he made it to the Mythics room.

“Damn fine of you to show up at last,” Mr. Bahril said. “now enough of that!” he added when the other boys started ribbing him for being late. “Jimmy’s the only reason we’ve got a shot at winning against the Trojans today, since you all let them score during the final five minutes the last time. I want you pulling out all the stops for Jim, set him up in case it comes down to the wire again. Don’t fail us, Jim. We’re talking about the semi’s here.”

“I’m getting a semi thinking about how we’re gonna win this season,” Isaac added, the immature among the team snickering at his gaff, which was pretty much all of them.

The sun blazing into his eyes, Jim jogged out with his team, sports shoes digging up the home turf beneath their feet. The crowd cheered as they set up, but the spectators were just as excited when the Trojans marched out from the visitor change rooms, the spectators an even mix between the home team and the visitors.

The crowd erupted as the kick-off commenced, the volume of hollers and woops rising and falling, but never quite fading. Neither of the teams held back, the tackles just rough enough to daze anyone unfortunate to be caught in them, but not as violent as to start a punch-up, at least not yet. Jim felt his nerves getting the better of him as he watched Gavin get piled on – what if he got another concussion and missed the finals?

But then he heard someone call his name from the sidelines, Jim turning to see Cassidy, Kendra, Sasha and some of the drama gang calling his name, and all his worries melted away. With them watching, he felt like he could do anything, and he did, spearing the ball up the field and bringing the offence within twenty meters of the try line.

Matty made a play, launching himself like a diver off a board through the defence, the referee blowing his whistle to signal a score. As Jim took charge of the following goal, he could literally feel his ego swelling like a balloon as he delivered a swift, accurate punt between the posts. On his victory run he slid past the drama club on his knees, kicking up the dirt as he held out a hand, high-fiving each member until ending the slide with Cassidy’s claws over his fingers.

The game was as thrilling as it was fun, because as Jim scored the next couple goals without missing a beat, his girlfriend and the crowd cheering him on, he felt untouchable. Not only had he passed an exam he’d once thought he would fail miserably at, but he’d scored with the love of his life, and his new drama club friends heralded him as their saviour. He’d always loved showing off, but now he had physical proof that backed up his deeds, and that just made the boasting a whole lot better.

Were they up on points because of Jim? Who could say? But he was in the zone right now, and as long as he was around, there wouldn’t be any more ties or golden points, he’d make sure of it.

The Mythics offence moved from side to side across the field as the Trojans gave it their all, the ball changing hands as the sets tallied up, and the timer ticked on. When halftime arrived the Mythics were up two points, but Mr. Bahril still chewed out the boys for every little mistake they made during the first half.

“They’ve got a slowpoke in the left centre,” Mr. Bahril said, Jim spitting out an orange seed as he chewed away. “Focus that dinklefoot down, and don’t hold back. The next time you boys are in this locker room you better be winners.”

With that new strategy down, the Mythics doubled down on the attack, singling the slower player out and pushing the tackles towards him so he’d get tired faster. Some might consider that mean, but you didn’t care about your opponents when it came down to the finals, especially if Mr. Bahril was your coach.

Isaac managed to snake his way through to the try line next, shouting many a dick joke as he celebrated, but the following set was rough. The Trojans fought for their own try, and their following goal put them up by two. The lead would switch sides once every ten or so minutes, until the final five minutes arrived and Jim scored a field goal that brought the scores to a tie.

With only minutes to go, the Mythics made a play. Gavin took the lead and speared into the Trojans, Jim, Isaac and a few others sprinting along his flank as they pushed up the field. They were pushing from their own try line up to the sixty-meter mark, but the Trojans were making it difficult to get to the halfway mark. Jim’s longest field goal was forty-two meters, and he remembered how it had been mere centimetres away from coming short of the posts. He’d never made a kick further than that, only in his free time had he managed to up it a few meters, which was much different when he wasn’t under pressure and being watched by hundreds of people.

Three tackles up and they’d reached the fifty-meter mark, Mr. Bahril screaming from the sideline to set the ball for Jim, who moved his hands from left to right at waist height, the classic sign for no.

“Heads up Jimmy!” Isaac shouted, punting the ball perpendicular to where the posts were. A dozen boys looked up into the sun as the ball arced, then fell to the ground, each one trying to get their hands on it first as they jumped to meet it.

Jim pushed off one of the Trojan players’ shoulders, planting a foot on Matty’s stomach to propel himself high into the sky, defying gravity to any onlooker. The bumpy, leather surface of the ball scratched against his chest as he cradled the ball like a baby, the young man going wide-eyed as he realised he now had to come down from this feat.

He hit the ground rolling, with approximately three seconds to do something before the Trojans drove him into the dirt. He just managed to read the number forty spray-painted onto the grass nearby, before he dropped the ball to his boot. He couldn’t get completely upright in time, so it looked like he was squatting while jutting one foot straight up in a kick. Isaac would later comment that he looked like he was in the middle of doing the can-can.

He sent it, the ball slapping off the laces on his boot, tipping end over end towards the try line. For a horrible second he thought it would go wide, but the ball made a distinct gong –sound as it bounced off the left post, swerving proudly through the pair of poles.

Jim had his butt slapped by his teammates as they congratulated him, the stands in a similar state of praise. By the time they’d all calmed down, the ref whistled for a reset, but it was nothing but a formality. There was only ten or so seconds on the clock, the Trojans would have to be lucky indeed to bring up their score at this point, and yet they tried anyway after the set began, Jim had to give them credit for trying.

The siren sounded off like an old Norse horn, music to the ears of Jim and the other Mythics. There was only one more round of the season, and it was the big one, one last game between them and the cup. Even Mr. Bahril’s lips were turned up at the corners when the coach came out to congratulate them, which was a major reaction from the grumpy old man.

“Well done out there, all of you,” Mr. Bahril said, the odd words of praise giving the celebrating Mythics pause, like they’d misheard him. They hurried into the locker room, but not before Jim was snuck up on by Cassidy, the dragoness giving him a tight hug from behind, her tassels still in her hands as they brushed his sweaty chest. The way her bosom spilled over his shoulder blades like dough made his face warm.

“Keep your heads on straight, boys,” Mr. Bahril reminded the team as they settled in the changing room, away from the praises of the crowd just outside. “Semi-finalists aren’t the same as Grand finalists, and there’s only one winner a season.”

“We got this, no worries,” Isaac said, splashing the contents of his water bottle over his face. “We’re a team of badasses, who got this in the bag – bagasses.”

“The Spartans will be saying the same thing,” the coach warned, the team going quiet at the mention of that name. The Spartans were the best team out there, and the Mythics had lost to them more than once over the past few years. Their rivalry stretched back to their fathers, and their father’s fathers, and the hatred they shared was almost dangerous, particularly with the mothers of the boys from both teams, who had been caught in screaming matches with each other outside of the matches, the hatred was contagious.

“Well they didn’t have to fight a dragon,” Jim announced, the boys nodding along in agreement.

“They’ve gone through their own challenges, no doubt about that,” Mr. Bahril continued. “I’m fairly confident we’ll have the home turf – the principal’s made sure the campus gets a lot of attention this season – but that’s where our advantages end. I don’t need to tell you all it’ll be no cakewalk, this will be the biggest season yet, for all of us. So I’m giving you homework.”

There was a groan shared by the Mythics. “Quiet down!” coach ordered. “You’re winners now, yes, but this will help you stay that way. I want you doing personal training at least every other day, keep yourselves in tip-top shape. I’ve got the date of the big game right here, so clear your calendars. You shouldn’t have any exams around this time, but whatever you’re doing you better can it, I don’t care if it’s your cousin’s funeral, save the fifteenth at all costs, and the fourteenth too, we’ll have a meeting that afternoon to go over some things. Now go clean up and get yourselves some rest, and well done again.”

As the boys made to get changed, Jim was called back by the coach. “A word, Jim.” When the rest of the team was out of earshot, Mr. Bahril narrowed his eyes at the young man. “That was a damn fine kick out there, I want you to do that again in the finals.”

“I’ll try, sir,” Jim replied.

“You spend a lot of time with that theatre mob, don’t you?” he went on, Jim nodding after a moment of hesitating. Was he following him? “Don’t tell me your concussion made you soft for theatrics?”

“No, well, yes, no, I just… had a lot of free time, you know? So I thought, why the hell not. They’ve got this amazing play planned for the fi-” He choked on his words, wheezing the number out like it was his dying breath.

“I don’t care about a play,” Mr. Bahril spat, apparently oblivious to Jim’s plight as the young man fought for air. “I’ll tell you this now, there is no room or time for traitors and switchers in my team, Jim. I need… the team needs you for this,” he added. “You’re going to make the game, won’t you? This whole drama or whatever its called, that stays well clear from the field, understood?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah it will,” Jim said, repeating himself when the coach appeared not to believe him.

“Good. Very good.” Mr. Bahril straightened his collar, excusing himself as he made for the exit. “We’re counting on you,” he added before disappearing outside.

Jim never said another word. Not when he got changed, not when Isaac slapped him on the ass with his towel, not when the caretaker came round to lock up the change rooms. It was only when his legs took him out into the dusk, the campus nightlights turning on to illuminate the paths, did his linguistic functions reactivate. Which happened only after Cassidy nudged him with her elbow.

“Heya, what took you so long?” she asked. She was out of her cheerleading clothes and in her usual black tank top. “Everyone left a half hour ago, are you alright? You look pale.”

She stopped him, turning him by the shoulders so she could look him over. A touch of worry spread over her features, and she asked him what was wrong. With each word he said, dread crept over her features until he might as well have told her he was coming out of the closet.

“Oh no, no no no no no Jim! You’re joking! Please tell me you’re joking?”

But he wasn’t, and she knew that, even if she was saying otherwise. “But what about your part?” she continued. “unless Bernard comes back you’re all we have!”

“Well I can make both the play and the game!” he countered. “What time of the day is the club doing their thing?”

“Late, about seven.”

“Craaaaaap,” he sighed. “Finals are at six thirty.”

“Jim!”

“Well hang on let’s think about this,” he said, rubbing his temple as he considered. “Let’s just… do the play earlier! Yeah! Can’t we do that?”

“Kendra’s already set the time in stone,” Cassidy said. “she had everyone handing out ads promoting the play a few days ago, and the principal already approved the time. We might be able to delay it a little, but not for a whole game’s worth of time.”

“I gotta call Kendra,” he said, pulling out his phone and flipping open the case. As he tapped at the keypad, Cassidy peered down at the screen suspiciously.

“You have her number?” she asked, one side of her brow raised.

“She gave it to me right after I took Bernard’s part, for this exact reason I guess, why?”

Before she could answer, the ringtone cut off, and Jim brought the phone to his ear. “Hey Ken’, it’s me, I… Because that’s your nickname, I don’t know. Look, there’s a teeny problem. We won the semi-finals and… oh right, you were there. Aw, thanks, that means a lot from you. But, uh, the thing is, the game and the play, they… they kind of… what’s the word…?”

“Coincide?” Cassidy offered.

“Right, coincide. Crazy right? So I was just wondering if that’s going to, uh be a problem. H-Hello? She hung up on me,” he said to Cassidy when he checked the screen.

She opened her mouth to speak, when they heard distant footsteps, the two swivelling their heads in the direction of the noise. It sounded like an angry elephant was charging down the campus, which wasn’t far off the truth when they saw Kendra turning round the bend up near the science blocks.

The Typhlosion covered the hundred or so meters with remarkable speed, pretty much teleporting to Jim’s side and startling the young man so hard her sheer stopping power almost caused him to topple over. “The hell did you come from?” he asked.

“Bathroom,” she said, her face going tight with anger. “I swear if you’re backing out of the play now I will jump through that window over there.”

“I’m not backing out,” he insisted. He told her what the problem was.

“THE SAME DAY?!” Kendra exclaimed. “I bet the principal knew all along this was going to happen. Well you’re just going to have to bench yourself or something, I don’t exactly have a waiting list I can call on.”

“I can’t bench myself these are the finals,” he explained. “Why do I have to change my timetable, anyway? Can’t you do some shifting?”

“No, I can’t do any shifting, I’ve been dangling this treat over the principal’s head for months now, doing any sort of diverging now will ruin what little reputation we’ve managed to get! I doubt the principal will let me move the date anyway, prick is completely arrayed against us.”

Cassidy’s mouth formed a little ‘o’ of shock at that, but she was quick to interject. “Well if we can’t move the play or the game, we’ll just have to improvise.”

“And how can we do that with this muffin screwing everything up?” Kendra asked, jabbing a claw at Jim’s face.

“Get your stumpy hand out of my face you pear-shaped badger! You asked for my help, remember?” he added, glaring at the Pokémon as she avoided his gaze.

“Both of you, cut it out!” Cassidy interjected, raising her hands in an attempt to calm them down. “there’s a way around this, there has to be. How long does a finals game usually go for, Jim?”

“Eighty minutes, same as regular games,” he explained. “But if it comes down to golden point, there’s a max of twenty extra minutes of play time.”

“So a max of just over an hour and a half,” she said. “if there’s a tie, that is. And Kendra, how long’s the play go for?”

“The last time we rehearsed the whole thing through it took just under two hours, with a short break in the middle,” Kendra said.

“Well that lines up okay,” Jim said. “I’ll just miss the start.”

“Jim, your character is IN THE START,” Kendra reminded him.

“Then write me off until later, the game should be over by eight,” he said. “You wrote the script, just make some tweaks or something.”

Kendra went to retaliate, but her rant began with a sigh that dragged on for a few seconds. “I’m going to get an aneurism at this rate,” the Typhlosion muttered. “I guess we might be able to delay your character’s appearance, but there’s still not a lot of room for error. What if your game goes to overtime? There’s no way we’ll be able to line this up properly.””

“Maybe you can make the break in the middle a bit longer?” Cassidy suggested. “That could buy us some time.”

“Some,” Kendra agreed. “You and your Mythics will just have to make sure this game doesn’t go on for that long. And what if you don’t show up, Jim? Hm? Say you win, won’t there be a speech or some sort of reward ceremony? We’ll be standing on that stage like idiots waiting for you.”

“Ah I’ll just skip it, it’s all fluff anyway. Don’t worry,” Jim insisted. “Just trust me, whatever happens in the finals, win or lose, I’ll be there.”

His heartfelt words seemed to move Cassidy, the dragoness watching him with her eyes full of adoration. The look was reflected a little in Kendra’s expression too, but the Typhlosion hid it behind an impatient scowl.

“Fine, fine I’ll ‘trust you’,” Kendra said, digging her palms into her eyes as she sighed. “This is way too close for comfort. Three hundred and sixty days and we’re still out of time…”

She huffed to herself and without saying goodbye, turned away and headed back to the campus. Jim watched her go, feeling much the same about their situation, it just went to show he wasn’t the only one struggling to keep up with everything.

“You okay, Jim?” Cassidy asked, touching him on the arm.

“I’ll make it on time,” he assured.

“I wasn’t talking about the play. This final is your lifelong dream, right? If you can’t make the play, for whatever reason, I won’t hold that against you.”

“I’ll make it happen, but thanks anyway,” he said. “I was actually going to ask you about that too,” he added, looking sheepishly up at her. “This is a pretty big thing for me, you’re right, but it’d be all for nothing if you weren’t there as well, Cass.”

“Me?” she asked, blinking at him.

“Yeah. Before we met, you… distracted me.” He felt his cheeks going warm but he pressed on. “It’d really mean a lot if you’d come cheer me on, even for just a little bit,” he added when he saw the Garchomp hesitate.

“Jim,” she began, saying it like she was about to start friend-zoning him. “I’d have my makeup done by the time your game started, and I’m in one of the first scenes.”

He felt his chest tighten at that. He knew all too well of their time constraints, but a part of him hoped that if he could split his time between the game and the play, then maybe she would too. “I know, but,” he stuttered. “but I’d still like to see you. When I saw you and the others out there today, I felt like there was nothing that could stop me, and I need that edge during the championship, I need you… you know?”

“Oh Jim,” she sighed, squeezing his hand in one of hers. “I… maybe I can make it,” Cassidy considered, Jim perking up as she went on. “If not before the game, then maybe during it. There’s a big gap near the middle where I’m not in the play, including the break. I could use that time to come down and watch.”

“Really?” he asked. “So you’ll come down?”

“I will,” she said.

As they shared a hug, Jim felt that with those two words, the finals would be a sinch, and he could devote a bit more time to his lines so he didn’t stuff up the play.

“Jim?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

“Really it’s… if you can’t make the play, it’s fine. Kendra will have a fit,” she added with a nervous laugh. “but I don’t want you, I suppose, sacrificing your game for our play.”

“What are you saying?” he asked, pulling back so he could look her in the eye.

“I just… you’re doing your sports and you’re also doing Bernard’s lines, it’s like… You don’t have to prove anything to me, you know that don’t you?”

“Well… yeah…” He wasn’t sure how to answer that. That might have been part of his reasoning, but not all of it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how else to put this,” she said. “All I’m saying is, don’t throw your game away for anything. Even me.”

She looked away, clutching one of her horns in a way that came off as discouraged. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked, oblivious to whatever was worrying her. “if you need to talk about something, I’m right here.”

“I know,” she said. She chewed her lip in thought, only building up the courage to look at him after a minute. “I know,” she repeated. “I’m just being silly, I need a hug Jim.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, Jim cupping the back of her head as she rested her snout on his shoulder. As he wondered on her strange behaviour, Mr. Bahril’s words played through his head like a flashback: there is no room or time for traitors and switchers in my team.

He made it sound like he was choosing sides, so was Cassidy now that he thought about it, but he didn’t have to choose, he could make this work, he could make sure both his team and Cassidy’s club made it through the year. There had to be a way, and he’d do his best to make it work.

For her.