Inspired by Community S1E17: "Physical Education"

Nico POV

Goodbye, khakis and polos! Hello, anything else!

Sometimes, when Nico walks the hallways, he feels like a Hot Topic supermodel in the best way possible. He can finally be himself here at New Rome. He can take whatever classes he wants, join whatever activities he wants, and hang out with whomever he wants.

In fact, the only time he doesn't feel like himself is when Dean D has him wearing something stupid as the school's mascot. He was going to quit a long time ago, but if he commits to the job for an entire year, his books for next semester will be free, and he needs that.

But even when he's parading around in a ridiculous outfit, he still feels more himself than he ever did back home.

Now that he's off on his own at New Rome Community College, Nico's grown out his hair and swapped out his Sunday best for chains, band t-shirts, combat boots, and perhaps most importantly of all, his favorite oversized aviator jacket. It's like a warm hug.

He's rebelled against his upbringing in just about every single way, and he couldn't be happier.

Well, there's one rebellious thing he hasn't gotten around to yet.

"Hey, Nico! Are you coming to GSA tonight?" Will Solace asks.

What a stupid ray of sunshine.

"Yeah, of course!" Nico replies.

Will winks and gives Nico finger guns. "Great! See you there. Oh, I love the safety pin through your mask. Nice touch."

Only someone as sweet as Will Solace would notice something that means so much to Nico.

Sure, it's a stupid safety pin from a package of fifty or so he bought at the CVS, but it's more than that. It's a way of expressing himself. He's never going to be that repressed boy ever again.

And that starts with the coolest class ever. Who would have thought that New Rome offers a billiards class? Nico loves playing pool. He used to sneak out and go to the local gay biker bar and play with his friends. He's going to have fun, kick some ass, and get an easy A in this class.

The pool—sorry, billiards—room has about four tables set up so most of the class can play at once. It also doubles as the weightlifting room, and Nico certainly isn't going to complain about the sweaty shirtless guys.

"Hey, Nico," says Malcolm Pace. "Ready to get schooled in pool?"

"In your dreams." Nico grabs a cue stick and some chalk. Does he know what that chalk cube does?

Does anybody know what that chalk cube does? 

He drops his aviator jacket on a stool, rolls his black and white striped sleeves up to his elbows, and leans over the table, aiming the cue stick at the colorful triangle of resin balls.

Crack!

Malcolm runs around the table, taking note of all the pockets being filled. "Well," he says. "It's safe to say you'll get to go again. Stripes or solids?"

"Solids. I like a challenge," Nico says. He aims at the number six ball and sends it flying into the side pocket.

"Woah," says another student. "Did this guy just aim for the side pocket by choice?"

Malcolm slowly nods.

A small crowd gathers around the table by the time Nico's down to just the eight ball.

There's just one problem though. The ball is on the left side of the table, and Nico is right-handed. Sure, most people would turn around and aim for a further pocket. That's what Nico should do, especially considering Malcolm hasn't even gotten a shot in yet.

But all eyes are on him. This is his chance to make an impression on these people who for some reason, think he's cool.

He checks the table to make sure it's sturdy, and then sits on the edge, holding his cue stick behind his back. There's a strain on his neck as he looks over his shoulder to eye his target.

Deep breath...

And then some asshole comes into the room and screams, "Listen up, Cupcakes! You have five minutes to change into your New Rome physical education uniforms and then I want to see you back on the felt! Chop, chop!"

Nico slips off the table, and not in a graceful way. Before he can catch his breath, the coach shoves some balled-up clothes in his arms: a grey t-shirt and a pair of purple shorts. The t-shirt he can work with. The shorts? Well, Nico di Angelo doesn't wear shorts.

Malcolm must notice his grimace because he says, "Maybe they'll look better when we put them on."

They do not look better when Nico puts them on. His skinny pale legs are a stark contrast to the shorts, which are tight in all the wrong places. He's going to have to avoid looking at the sexy weightlifters now. Dang.

Nico and his friends emerge from the locker room, and it looks like he's not the only one who's uncomfortable. Guys around him are tugging on the legs of their weird little shorts, trying to protect themselves from the scrutiny of others. Nico figures trying to adjust his uniform might draw more attention to himself, so he leaves it be.

"This is kind of ridiculous," Lacy from GSA whispers to Nico. He almost jumps out of his college-issued shorts. She has a way of sneaking up on people like that.

Not noticing Nico's discomfort, she continues. "I had a bunch of super cute pool outfits planned, and now I won't get to show any of them off!"

"I miss my jacket." He only says it to show Lacy some empathy, but he means it. He's feeling uncomfortably exposed, and cold and hot all at the same time. He needs his jacket. For some odd reason, the weight of it tends to make him feel better, even in ninety-degree weather.

"Alright, cupcakes, listen up!" the coach yells. It's way too loud for Nico. Yep, that jacket would be really nice to have right now. He can imagine it sitting in the locker he and Malcolm are sharing, gathering New Rome Community College germs and dust, all cold and lonely.

The coach continues to holler at the class. He's short and stout, and his name is Coach Hedge. Today, the class is going to practice some basic maneuvers just to get familiar with aiming and using the cue sticks.

Coach Hedge sets the black number eight ball in front of a corner pocket. It's a perfect angle, one that even a first-time player could make.

"Now," he yells. "Which one of you cupcakes is going first?"

As if on cue, the rest of the class takes a step backward, leaving it to look as if Nico is volunteering to go first.

He doesn't completely mind, since he's good at pool and most of these people just watched him kick Malcolm's ass anyway, but something about the stupid physical education uniform leaves him feeling uncomfortable.

It's probably that his butt sticks out funny when he aims. He's so distracted by the snickers among his classmates, that the cue ball flies off course and misses the target altogether.

He scowls at himself and tries to tune out the teasing.

"Well maybe if I could wear my jeans like a normal person, I wouldn't have missed the easiest shot known to man!" Nico shouts.

Hedge just laughs. "Kid, the clothes don't make the player! You'll learn to play my way. Shorts and all!"

No freakin' way.

Nico folds his hands, looking to twist his favorite skull ring, but alas, it's not a part of the physical education uniform. He needs something to fidget with or else he's going to burst.

He mutters a quick, "Fine then," and rushes off to change. He'll feel better in his own clothes and a different class. He's heard pottery is a great blowoff class, even if it is two hours long.

"Where ya going, di Angelo?" the coach roars. How did this guy manage to learn Nico's last name before even taking attendance?

Yeah, pottery sounds like a better idea. Maybe there'll be a cute boy he can reenact Ghost with.

✎✎✎

But things don't get much better for Nico. Between his classes, there's always some announcement over the PA system about how some punk left his shorts in the billiards room or how he's too much of a wuss to be a man and play pool in shorts.

People are staring at him, and for once, he wishes his aviator jacket had a hood.

"Hey, Nico-"

"Agh!"

Oh. It's just his half-sister Hazel. He'd never met her until he went to college; his mother didn't tell him about his dad's second family. That's what the internet is for. After stalking Hazel online for some time, he finally got the courage to send her a message: Hey. This is probably super weird, but I think we might share a father.

Turns out, they were planning to attend the same college, both having received encouragement from their father. Sometimes Nico wonders if his dad had wanted him and Hazel to meet.

"Are you okay?" Hazel asks. "Those announcements are kind of harsh."

"Yeah, I just have to drop the class and he'll probably leave me alone," says Nico. At least, that's what he thinks will happen.

Hazel pulls something out of her overall pocket. "I made you a mask," she says. "No pressure to wear it or anything, but I knew you were really excited about your pool class, and I wanted you to have something to wear for the occasion."

Nico takes the mask and admires it in his hands. She knows what he likes. It's in that dry-fit fabric that keeps him from feeling claustrophobic. You can't get that feature with a regular surgical mask.

It's a black mask that Hazel embroidered with a white circle and the number eight. Oh, like a pool ball. Clever.

"Even if you quit the class, we could still play sometime and you could wear it," Hazel suggests.

She looks kind of defeated, and Nico doesn't want to make any speculations, but he thinks it might have something to do with her friends trying to set that guy Frank up with Miranda Gardiner.

There can't be two completely defeated community college students in this hallway.

"You know what?" Nico asks.

"What?"

"I'm gonna do it. Follow me." Nico leads Hazel down the hall and towards the dean's office, and more importantly, the intercom system.

"Hey, only staff can use that!" a secretary objects.

But Nico doesn't care. He picks up the phone and dials the number that connects him to the speakers. "Hey, Coach Hedge! It's Nico di Angelo! I challenge you to a round of billiards. Tomorrow. In the student lounge where everyone can see. I'll even wear your stupid shorts." He slams the phone down, shutting off the intercom with an obnoxious CLICK!

Hazel jumps up and down and claps. "Oh, that was nice!" Then, she frowns and asks, "Now what?"

"Now, I've gotta put on this mask you made me and go practice," says Nico.

"Can I invite my friend Percy to the showdown tomorrow?"

"Uh, I guess. Is he really into pool or something?" Nico asks.

Hazel shrugs. "No, unless you count him being on the swim team. I just thought you might like to meet some of my friends."

So that's Hazel, Hedge, some guy named Percy, and probably some of the people from the billiards class that'll see Nico in those shorts. He can handle that.

✎✎✎

Somehow word got out about the 'billiards showdown' because there are a lot of people here in the student lounge ready to watch Nico take on Coach Hedge in a round of pool. Maybe he shouldn't have announced it over the intercom.

It's more hype than any New Rome-sanctioned event. Nico knows. He's the school mascot.

People are munching on popcorn and soft pretzels as they excitedly buzz about the room. Hazel made a glittery sign that says 'KNOCK 'EM DEAD, NICO!'

Travis Stoll is parading around the room with a wad of cash and a roll of bright red raffle tickets. Is he seriously running a fifty-fifty right now?

Nico tries to drown out the crowd by picking out a cue stick and rubbing some chalk against the tip, even though he still has no idea what that does to improve his game.

"Hey! Good luck!" says Hazel.

"Thanks." She's nice like that. She's pretty chipper, but she's always been accepting of Nico.

The guy standing next to Hazel, who Nico assumes is Percy, towers over both of them. He looks like he just stepped off the cover of Sports Illustrated. And not just any Sports Illustrated either. Nico means the swimsuit edition. Not that he has a copy tucked under his mattress back at his mom's house or anything.

"Hey, I'm Percy." He's wearing a mask with cartoon sharks on it.

Hey, wait a second.

Nico knows one of Hazel's handmade masks when he sees one. This Percy guy must be special to her.

He offers a quick wave. "It's nice to meet you, Percy."

Hazel plays a common denominator between the two guys. "Are you nervous, Nico?"

He shrugs. "A little. I've never fought for my pride through sports before. It feels so masculine," he jokes.

That's a lie. Nico's incredibly nervous, but he can't show it. In the little time that he and Hazel have actually known each other, it's become clear that she needs him as a constant.

Heads turn when Coach Hedge enters the room, flanked by Nico's billiards classmates. What a dramatic entrance.

His presence is strong and commanding. For such a short guy, he has a way of dominating a room.

"Well, if it isn't di Angelo," Hedge sneers. "Thought you'd wuss out on me."

Nico rolls his eyes. "I'm the one that challenged you. Of course, I'm here."

"Enough banter, boy. Let's play some pool!"

He decides not to object or remind Hedge that he's the one that started the banter. Instead, he watches as the coach selects a cue stick and then arranges the balls in a neat triangle. He doesn't even have to use a rack!

Nico gulps. What has he gotten himself into?

Hedge holds out his cue stick, daring Nico to accept the challenge.

Nico's not one to back down from a challenge. At least, not today, he isn't.

He grips the cue stick just above Coach Hedge's calloused hand.

Choruses of oohs ripple across the spectators. Nico smirks beneath his mask, not loosening his grasp in the slightest, even though Hedge wears his mask below his nose and definitely shares food with that professor from the environmental department. Gross. Germs.

Hedge and Nico walk their hands up the stick, and, well, maybe Nico's luck is turning around! He places his palm atop the cue stick, signifying his win. He gets to break! This could be a great advantage.

Nico wipes his sweaty hands on his shorts and eyes his target. He usually gets a few balls in when he breaks, so he isn't too worried. It's just that everyone is watching him, and he can feel the shorts riding up.

Forget about the shorts, he scolds himself.

Not caring that his butt is sticking out towards his peers, he leans over the table and aims, drawing back his cue stick, and then...

CRACK!

Balls roll across the felt, bouncing off the walls and cascading every which way. The striped number ten ball teeters over the edge, and at last, falls into the corner pocket.

"Yay, Nico!" Hazel shakes her sign up and down.

"Last chance for fifty-fifty tickets!" Travis Stoll shouts. "Buy your tickets for a chance to win, people!"

Percy buys a raffle ticket and then says, "Dude, shut up. He's trying to concentrate."

Nico is starting to see why Hazel hangs around this guy.

He twists the skin where his skull ring should be and takes a deep breath. He's going to be doing a lot of deep breathing if the whole game is going to be this stressful.

Hedge doesn't get to take his first turn yet since Nico scored, so he has no idea if Hedge is one of those people who think they should be hitting the balls in numerical order. It's better to assume that he is and fumble on this turn than to take the easy route and be ostracized, so Nico claims the striped balls and aims for the yellow nine-ball.

He should be able to bounce it off the felt wall at just the right angle and land it right in the...

In the...

Oh.

Who gave Will Solace the right to just parade into the student lounge dressed like a camp counselor and stick a dollar in the vending machine? It should be a crime for someone to look so good in Birkenstocks.

And without realizing what's happening on the table, Nico knocks the cue ball past his target and straight into the corner pocket.

Hedge laughs. "A scratch! Not so smug now, di Angelo!"

Nico scowls. If only that stupid Will wasn't craving a Snickers bar. Hey, he likes those too!

He needs to stop getting so distracted. What's the line from that cheesy high school movie Hazel made him watch the other week?

"You'll get 'em next time, Neeks!" Hazel cheers.

Oh, that's right. 'Getcha head in the game!'

Screw Will Solace. Well, screw him later, Nico supposes. He's got a crazy billiards coach to take down.

Hedge manages to sink three balls during his turn. He's good. He's really good at this game.

But he's not better than Nico. Hedge's solid red ball stops just short of the pocket. Nico could have been set up for an easy shot if it weren't for Hedge's block.

He'll have to go for the dreaded side pocket. It's a risky move, but it might be all he's got.

It's hard, but Nico manages to tune out the chatter around him and hone in on the purple ball in front of him. It's got a small chip in it, so he'll need to favor the right side. Hey, he may be a psychology major, but he does understand some physics.

Nico wasn't expecting the ball to start spinning upon impact. Everyone stares as it slowly but surely scoots towards the side pocket and tumbles in.

Coach Hedge furrows his eyebrows, probably because he thought he'd have crushed Nico like a pomegranate seed by now.

Nico's not done yet though! He does a little victory dance when he hits the green fifteen ball into a corner pocket but then misses that stupid yellow nine-ball again.

"It's not all about looks, di Angelo!" Hedge teases. "It's about the game! No tricks or gimmicks!"

Nico shrugs. "Who said I'm pulling any tricks? I'm wearing your stupid uniform! Unless you think I should like, take my clothes off or something!"

"Oh, yeah, smartass?"

"Oh, yeah!" Nico and Hedge simultaneously reach for their shirts, until Percy interrupts.

"There... there are cameras, and I don't think this abides by the health and safety protocols..." he stammers.

Nico smooths his shirt and regains his composure. "It's your turn, Coach."

Coach Hedge stretches across the table to reach his perfect angle, and Nico is thankful to not be watching him from behind.

He sinks another ball, and then another, and suddenly there are no more solid balls on the table. That is, except for the eight-ball. Some people say that the eight-ball is magic, and can like, tell fortunes or something. Needless to say, Nico wasn't allowed to have one of those toys when he was little because fortunes are the devil's work. Magic eight-balls and fortune cookies were off-limits. Yeah, Nico grew up in a pretty conservative household.

Everyone in the room falls silent as Hedge aims for the eight-ball.

In his anger, the coach hits the ball with far too much power to make a decent shot. For a second, Nico's afraid the cue ball might fly off the table and into somebody's head.

He's thankful that they've almost made it through the game without any injuries, but Nico's more thankful that Hedge misses the winning shot. There's still a chance.

But he has to sink four balls before he can take a winning shot.

All the pockets are left unblocked; Nico just has to play to the right angles. It's time for some geometry.

He can hit the nine in easy peasy, so he does. It's a nice confidence boost, but he can't celebrate yet.

The thirteen-ball should be easy too. When Nico scored the nine, he pushed the cue ball close enough that if he just gives it a little tap, it'll go right in.

There's a clicking sound as the green and white striped ball collides with the others in the pocket.

Now, the eleven and the fifteen balls are going to be another story. Nico's been avoiding them for the entirety of the game. He may have sunk a ball when he broke the triangle, but he also pushed these balls so close that they're practically touching!

How's he supposed to manage that?

He tugs on his finger again, wishing he had his ring to fidget with. It's cold all of a sudden; it's like the kind of chills you get when you're watching a scary movie and the characters are in a graveyard. Unless you're Hazel. In that case, it's like watching the "Thriller" music video for the first time.

Either way, Nico needs his aviator jacket.

"Time out!" a voice calls.

Nico looks up from his dilemma on the felt.

Will Solace passes him a bottle of water and some gummy worms. "You look tuckered out. You alright?"

"I will be." Nico happily takes a sip of water and chews on a cherry-flavored gummy worm. "Thank you."

"Happy to help," Will says. His mask raises, making his smile evident. Nico's never noticed that dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose before. It's kind of cute.

"Hey, cupcake!" Hedge calls. "Get your boyfriend off the felt and take that shot. Unless you're forfeiting!"

Nico narrows his eyes. "Never!"

Will steps back into the crowd, leaving Nico to fight his battle.

He studies his targets as if the last of the resin balls can somehow be intimidated into the pockets (they can't).

Against his better judgment, he glances behind him, facing his peers, his half-sister, some guy named Percy, and Will.

They may be wearing their masks, but Nico can tell that Will Solace is smiling at him. It's nice knowing that someone has full confidence in him.

Nico turns his attention back to the maroon and orange balls. He's going to have to make one of the hardest shots he's ever made. He's never scored two balls at once on purpose before.

He's going to have to if he wants to beat Coach Hedge.

He takes a deep breath and goes for it, knowing that things will be okay if he doesn't. He'll still have his real friends.

But he'll be the best at something if he wins. Nico's never been the best at anything before.

The cue ball collides with the balls exactly where Nico aims, sending the eleven ball in one direction and the fifteen ball in the opposite direction, all according to plan.

Cheers erupt from the crowd when the eleven ball falls into the pocket and then grow when the fifteen falls as well.

"Let's go, Nico!" Percy yells.

Nico raises his cue stick into the air. He doesn't usually give in to toxic masculinity, but he can't help but bellow, "Oh, yeah!" like he's the Kool-Aid Man bursting through a wall.

Hazel squeaks and covers her eyes.

Evidently, Nico's shorts are riding up in all the wrong places.

He gives a quick apology wave and adjusts himself.

"Not so fast, di Angelo!" Hedge shouts. "You still have to sink the eight-ball!"

Nico is feeling especially confident now, so he makes his favorite kind of shot, just for show.

He hoists himself up onto the edge of the table like a girl in a biker movie and angles his cue stick behind his back.

With just one careful tap of the cue ball, Nico sends the eight-ball into the pocket.

Choruses of cheers coming from the spectators fill Nico's ears. Is this what it's like to win something?

"Well, di Angelo. You proved me wrong," says Coach Hedge.

Nico's not a jerk, so he says, "Good game, Coach."

"You can wear whatever you want to class now. That is if you still want to take it," he says, extending his hand.

Nico accepts the handshake; he'll just use hand sanitizer later or something. "You'll see me in class on Monday. In shorts."

Nico's torn away from Hedge by his friends.

Percy offers Nico some blue hand sanitizer that smells like cookies. "Thanks for letting me come today. It was nice meeting you; I can see why Hazel likes you so much," he says sincerely.

"Oh, of course. Thanks for uh, supporting me," Nico says.

Hazel wraps Nico in a hug, nearly knocking the wind out of him. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Hate to break up the hug," Percy says. "But that guy from earlier said he had something for you."

Nico turns towards the snack table. When did a billiards match turn into an entire tailgate party?

But sure enough, standing next to the pre-packaged bags of Flaming Hot Cheetos is Will Solace.

"Hey," he says. "I hope it's okay that I got this from your locker." He helps Nico put on his favorite aviator jacket.

Oh, yeah. That's much better. Comfy and cozy.

"You have my locker combo?" Nico asks.

"No, I asked the custodian to open it for me."

Nico laughs. "I appreciate the effort." Then, he does something bold. But hey, he's a winner. Who wouldn't want to get pizza with a winner? "Can I buy you dinner?" he asks.

Will runs his hands through his hair. "That sounds nice. Are you going to put real pants on?"

"They probably won't let me within a ten-foot radius of minors wearing these, so yeah. You didn't happen to steal my jeans too?" Nico asks.

Sure this might be what it feels like to win, but more than anything, Nico knows what support feels like now. It doesn't always have to come from a heavy jacket or your favorite twisty skull ring. Sometimes, the comfort of your friends is all you need.