"Alright boys!" The coach was a large, burly man, with a head of thick blonde hair, dark blue eyes and a body that proved he played football since he was little. His voice, deep and commanding, instantly caught the attention of the twenty other boys crowded around the football field. "This is Piers. He's a transfer from England and he's here to try out."

     Murmurs rose around the group, each of the boys sizing up the mountain of a man standing slightly behind Coach. He was taller than everyone else here, which means he was bigger than six and a half feet tall and his shoulders were broader than the senior linebackers. He looked like a freaking mac truck! He had thick black hair that was mostly hidden by the grey beanie hanging precariously on his head and his eyes were hidden by a pair of sunglasses. He wasn't smiling, and the way he stood with his arms crossed over his chest proved that he was more closed off. He wore a pair of black jeans that hugged his long legs, black and red converse and a grey sweatshirt with red writing on it. There was an earbud tucked into one of his pierced ears and when he tilted his head to the side slightly, the sun glinted off the ring in the left nostril of his nose.

     He looked like the type of person to sit alone, skipping class to smoke behind the school - not someone who would sprint down a field to catch a flying pigskin.

     "Show him the ropes while we wait for Williams." The sentence wasn't a request, and the team knew it as they waited for Coach to walk away before they slowly approached the newbie.

     "You must be pretty damn good if Coach's showin' an interest in you, kid." One of the senior running backs said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was lean, with light brown hair and dark brown eyes. He looked more like a soccer player than someone who could handle getting thrown to the ground. "How old are you?"

     "Seventeen," Balthazar's voice was heavily accented, but not in a way that made it impossible to understand. His voice was gruff and deep, and the way he spoke was captivating. He didn't just talk, he purred. "I am a fifth former."

     Most of the players frowned in confusion, but a boy in the back chuckled. He was almost as tall as Balthazar, but only half as muscular. However he had a smile on his face that screamed friendliness. "He's a junior," He reiterated, pushing his way to the front so he could size up the new kid for himself. "And Davie's right, you better be good. This is the Varsity team your messing with, and Coach doesn't let just anyone here, especially not when tryouts ended weeks ago."

     Balthazar shrugged. "I'm okay I guess."

     There was a moment of silence where everyone obviously expected him to continue, but when he didn't, the same boy filled the silence. "What's your position?"

     "Everything," Balthazar murmured, looking around awkwardly. "I have played games for every position since I was four. I can be wherever you need me."

     "Sounds good to me," He chuckled again and extended one of his hands. "Name's Dimitrios. But you can call me Dima, everyone does."

     Balthazar hesitated only for a moment before he took his hand and shook briefly. "Dimitrios?" He echoed quietly. "Is that Russian?"

     Dima's eyes brightened in surprise as his smile widened. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

     He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "A friend of mine, Vlad, he's from Omsk. I have known him since I started gridiron."

     There was another long silence before, "Gridiron?"

     Balthazar grunted and nodded. "Yes. Gridiron. North American football." He spoke the definition slowly, as if he himself was confused with the translation.

     A loud groan came from the same boy who spoke in the beginning, Davie. "Fucking foreigners," He muttered to one of the guys next to him, who snorted and nodded in agreement. "Piers," He raised his voice to make sure he was heard. "Man, it's not grid-iron or whatever the fuck you just said. It's just football."

     Balthazar blinked at him behind his sunglasses and took a deep breath before releasing it inaudibly. "Football is the sport played with the black and white ball that you kick across a field," He said slowly, as if speaking to someone incompetent. "Football is the game you actually play with your feet. Not that," He nodded towards the pigskin laying in the grass a few feet away.

     There was a lengthy awkward silence where Balthazar took the chance to go to the team's bleachers and set his things down. He just got here and he already knew that things were not going to go well.

- - - - - - - - - - -

     "Williams," Balthazar muttered to Dima, the only player who bothered to continue talking to him. "Who is that?"

     "Our quarterback," He said, stretching across the bleachers and flipping the pigskin in the hair before catching it continuously. "Best in the state. Takes the sport as serious as Coach does. Williams was the only freshmen allowed on a varsity team."

     "Is Williams still a freshman?" He asked curiously, looking down at the boy.

     "Nah. Junior, just like you. The two of you are the youngest kids on the team. Which, again, means you must be good."

     Balthazar rolled his eyes, grateful that the action couldn't be seen behind the sunglasses.

     "Hey, Piers," Dima said suddenly, perking up and cocking his head at him. "What's your first name?"

     He frowned, mostly out of confusion but he couldn't help the smile at curled at his lips. It felt nice to finally have someone who wasn't a complete jerk to him. "Balthazar," He said quietly.

     Dima's eyes widened in surprise and he coughed to hide his amused laugh. "Well, uh, that's a mouthful," He muttered, obviously trying not to offend him. "Can I just call you Bal?"

     Balthazar winced, not appreciating the unintended reference to his best friend. Vladimir was the only person allowed to call him "Bal", mostly because Vlad would literally snap at anyone else who tried to. "It is a family name. I am Balthazar Talon Piers, the Sixth. And I would appreciate it if you thought of something different."

     Dima was studying him again, frowning. "Balthazar Talon Piers... that sounds real fami-"

     "Alright boys!" The use of Coach's usual greeting for the team caused every male to jump to their feet and meet him and another player in the middle of the field. However Balthazar felt himself hesitating behind everyone. "Williams, this is the boy that I was telling you about. Piers. He's going to practice with everyone today."

     Williams, the quarterback, was female.

     She stood confidently next to their coach, her long brown hair tied back into a pony-tail and her wide blue eyes assessing Balthazar carefully. She was just as tall as any other average male, with slightly broad shoulders, wearing a tanktop that showed she could take anyone in a fight. And the way she stood proved to Balthazar that she knew what she was doing on a gridiron field.

     She was proud to be the captain of an all boys team.

     And she didn't like the fact that their coach had taken an interest in Balthazar.

     "You are a girl," Stupidly, that was the first thing that left Balthazar's mouth as he stared down at the quarterback, his head cocked to the side curiously.

     She grunted and glared at him. "Yeah," She said, and surprisingly, her voice was very soft. Despite the anger and sarcasm lacing her words, her voice made him want to smile. "Is that a problem for you?"

     He distantly heard one of the guys in the back chuckle and mutter to one of his teammates, "Williams is gonna tear him to shreds."

     This will be such a long day.