Rival Schools - RusAme

{The Bulls}

   Ring, Ring, Ring.

   America grabbed his bag and left the classroom, immediately getting followed by a few girls. By a few, he meant 20 different people.

   "America, what's up!"

   America turned his head to see one of his best friends quickly walking towards him. America slowed down to let them catch up before walking back at his normal pace.

   "So, there's this rumor going around and I thought you'd like to hear it."

   "Oh, you know I'm always up for some drama~!" America gleefully replied.

   "So, apparently there's going to be a party after the football game if we win against St. Victoria. If we lose, I think the plan is to get drunk alone."

"Really? What if we tie? Our team tied the last two games."

"St. Victoria is a great school, so we'd probably consider it a win."

"Then you'll catch me hyping up the crowd. I'm the senior class president after all!"

"But you weren't going to go in the first place, how come now? Just wanting some beer?"

"Bro, having hardcore Christian parents suck. They don't even buy some things they think have alcohol in it. Like, I just wanna have fun, ya know?"

"Yeah, sounds fucking boring. I gotta go down this hall to class, see ya later."

"See ya, Brazil! Tell the coach to let you have the ball sometimes in the game!"

America was left to continue on to his class "alone" now. Those girls hadn't ever left him and they were really starting to piss him off. They were all the same, too. Same style of clothing, same generic hair style, same shoes for some fucking reason. Plus, America was gay and this was widely known.

America walked into his next class with his head all high, hands in the pocket of his letterman jacket. He walked over to a table where a group of guys all sat, them all wearing the same type jackets.

It was a school spirit thing, not a gang thing, I promise. If it were a gang thing, America would have cursed out the teacher walking in. But America is a great student, senior class president, valedictorian, not directly disobeying his parents(he just didn't share their beliefs but still was a great kid to them), and was on varsity (American) football, hockey, and cross country. Everyone knew him, everyone loved him.

"Hey, guys, what's up?" America asked in a greeting, sitting down with them.

"America! We were just trying to figure out how the he'll we're going to win against St. Victoria. They are the best football team in the region!"

The guys all talked about the plans, America now added in. Their teacher had said she needed to do planning so they had free day, leaving the guys to discuss plans since 5 of them were on the team. It was exciting, nonetheless.

   Spain, one of the boys there, was being a cocky bastard and kept claiming he could score the winning goal. Belgium was complaining about Spain, saying Brazil or Colombia was more likely to score the winning goal. Colombia was fixated on the idea the game would be a 1-1 tie. Mexico was talking about how he scared he was for the game because St. Victoria always scored a goal and he was goalkeeper. Germany just sat there quietly, drawing plays that they could use for any scenario.

   A girl was at their table too and she also played football. She was the varsity girl's football captain and was helping Germany pull the ideas together.

   "Poland, he's pretty smart, are you just watching him basically?"

   "I've had to tell him to put eleven people on the field twice already," she replied, causing Germany to nervously laugh. "Ja, ja, whatever. I don't like math."

   "I feel that," America groaned, sliding deeper into his chair. "Hey, y'all remember who's hosting the party tonight?"

   "It's literally your best subject. You have your highest grade in Calculus," Spain objected.

   "Fuck off," Germany mumbled in reply. "I can be good in something without liking it, dummköpfe."

The group all laughed and continued with their conversations. Once the bell rung once again, America left the room and immediately headed to his next class. Next was lunch, so he was pretty stoked. Plus, his teacher was super chill. He walked down the halls and into the next class, stopping dead in his tracks when he entered.

His ex boyfriend was talking to another guy in that class. Slowly America slid in, trying his best not to be noticed and he crept to he seat.

"America."

"Heyy, Cuba!" America awkwardly replied, throwing his hands halfway up. "You excited for the game tonight?"

"There's a player on St. Victoria's team who you should try to get the number of. He's the captain, position is forward, he's number 5, very tall, you'll immediately attract to him. Distract him, we need this game won."

"You calling me a whore?"

"You seem to carry that title high," the ex replied coldly.

"I'll only do it for the team. If you bring me a bottle of alcohol before the game, Ill try to persuade him with that."

Cuba turned to face America for the first time in years. The friend, Jamaica, only smiled, looking forward.

"Deal."

Cuba immediately walked back out and left America alone and in all honesty, confused. Was he only wanting the game to be won so he can have alcohol and party? Maybe because he was playing and wanted to impress another guy? America had to answer and did not intend on getting an answer for quite a few days.

"Sleep with the tall, 'hot' captain of St. Victoria's team. Won't be impossible at all!" America grumbled to himself, leaning his cheek onto his hand. "What even is his name?"

   "Russia. He's not hard to find, you'll be fine," Jamaica responded, leaning back. "You've gotta get your braids fixed, they're becoming dreads."

   "I've got an appointment for Tuesday. Thank god my parents don't make me had white-boy hair."

   "I bet your mom threatened your dad."

   "Probably."