Helmet Hair, Paper Affairs: A Sashanne Fanfic

Chapter One: Unlikely Entente

"You've interviewed so many other people before, why is this any different?" A voice questioned from across a table Anne was seated at.

"I've never done a sports spread before, Marcy," Anne swirled her straw around a drink she'd ordered.

"Seriously? You're telling me three years in the committee and you've never done one sport spread?" Marcy responded.

Anne shook her head. "Everyone in the committee believed I could handle it, and so I took it. I didn't realize I was in over my head."

The two were sitting in a quiet café. Beige and green walls with tall, elegant windows revealing yet another cloudy day. Java, one of NAU's local campus cafés, was one of Anne and Marcy's main study places. It held the perfect mood, calming music—not to mention it always smelt great—and had a plethora of sweets and drinks to choose from.

"Hmm, well, the most I can do is pull up old school records and tell you the basic gameplay," the girl across her bit the end of a colorful pen, swirling a laptop around to face Anne. "Apparently NAU made it to regionals a decade ago and almost qualified for nationals."

"Okay, but how am I supposed to use something like that for the current team?"

"Uhh," Marcy tapped her fingers along the edge of the table in rhythm. "Maybe use it as a comparison? Bringing past and present together adds great contrast."

"Part of the spread requires me to interview players and get quotes from them," Anne slouched in her seat.

"And?" Marcy tilted her head, dark, short hair falling over her eyes; she took a piece and tucked it back behind an ear.

"And I know absolutely none."

Marcy shut her laptop and swung it into its designated pouch. She cleaned her surroundings, lastly tossing her pen to her friend.

"I'll try and search up what I can, also see if I can ask some other friends for you," Marcy offered. "I have a student to tutor but in the meantime, take my lucky pen."

"Wow, your beat up, chewed on, pastel green pen. How thoughtful," Anne said sarcastically.

"Hey, you can't judge a pen for how it looks," Marcy retorted. "And I don't bite on it."

Anne raised a brow.

"Ya okay, I do a bit, but that doesn't make it less lucky," Marcy playfully scoffed. "Good luck, Anne."

They pushed their seat back in and left the café shortly after, leaving Anne by herself. She checked her phone, the time reading 9:56AM. Anne had a place she should've been too.

She swept her belongings off the table and hurried to her next class.

-

Anne had been jotting down short notes to the side of her English papers. She honestly should have been watching her professor's teaching, but she was spending too much time worrying.

The entire committee trusted her. Everyone on the women's team relied on her. The whole school depended on her to write some inspiring, uplifting article that would hopefully bring them to regionals again.

Beeeeep.

A monotone bell announced to the students that the lesson had ended, bringing Anne's attention to the board -- which she had NOT been paying attention to.

She shuffled around her papers and took a quick photo of today's notes, overhearing a voice through the commotion of people leaving.

"Hey, Boonchuy," someone called to her, sliding past people down the row to speak to her.