Okay, don't be mad. I know I'm slowly eeking out a Twilight fic, but this is where my heart is right now. I swear I'm not abandoning Rome. Just...ride this rollercoaster of emotion with me, okay?

Okay.

Read on.

Kara was doomed the day she met Lena Luthor. She didn't know, not right away. Kara had one thing on her mind: football. With the focus on football came, of course, other things. She focused on throwing to her cousin, Clark, in the backyard. She focused on taking a hit from 220 lb boys. She thought about the routes her teammates ran. She thought about Jack, the five-inch taller and fifty pounds heavier sophomore trying to usurp her. Now that Jimmy Olsen had graduated, there was room for a starting quarterback. Kara had quietly watched every play, studied every route. She had been let on the team as a Title IX requirement; she knew that. Equal rights laws had demanded that Kara be given a place on the boy's team if there wasn't a girl's team in the same sport. Her freshman year had been painful. Boys made kissy sounds at her. They glared at her. They shoved her into lockers and made jokes when she went to the girl's locker room. It didn't matter. Kara would never give in.

In Kara's bag, she carried a signed Nick Foles rookie card. He had been drafted out of college to the Philadelphia Eagles. Foles was picked up in the third round of the draft. He was the starting quarterback for the Eagles, and he was good. Not good enough, it would seem. Number 9 was traded away to the Rams, who didn't appreciate him. When the Rams picked up a new quarterback, Foles, who had to wear number 5, asked to be released. He considered retiring before his old coach picked him up to play with the Chiefs. Nick ended up back with the Eagles, back in number 9, and he won them their first Superbowl in franchise history. Kara lived for that story. She felt it in her bones. She wore number nine while tearing her heels open in her new cleats.

She wore number nine while throwing forty yards to Clark on the practice field.

She wore number nine while she ran the fifty-yard dash faster than Jack Spheer, her younger competition.

She wore number nine when she denied the coach's offer of making her a running back.

She wore number nine when she lifted more weight, pound for pound, than most of the boys did.

She wore number nine when she threw up after the summer two-a-days wind sprints finally got to her.

She wore number nine when Jack finally got fed up and took a swing at her during a practice. Tensions ran high, and Jack had been bred to be a starter. His dad had won the district championship in 89, and Jack was sure the starter spot was his. No girl would destroy his legacy, he had shouted before taking the first swing at the smaller quarterback. At six foot four, Jack wasn't to be messed with, but five-foot-eleven Kara would never cave. She ducked the first punch and responded with a solid uppercut that caught Jack just right on the chin. He hit the ground, and Coach Queen caught him by the collar of his jersey and threw him out with a gruff, "Get the fuck outta here, boy." Jack stumbled towards the locker room, throwing his helmet towards the bleachers as he passed them. He ripped off his practice jersey, throwing the number five to the wind.

Coach Queen looked at Kara, arms folded across his chest. "It was going to be a hard decision, but it looks easier now." He pointed at Kara. "QB one." He pointed at Mon-El, a squirrelly boy who was even smaller than Kara. "QB 2, can you handle that Mike?" Coach Queen didn't like Mon-El's name, so he'd nicknamed him Mike. Mon-El nodded, folding his arms to mimic Coach, and puffed out his chest. Coach Queen raised one eyebrow, and Mon-El deflated.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, Danvers, we've got two weeks to opening day. You have to be able to take a hit."

"Yeah," Kara murmured, "If they can catch me."

"That's what I like to hear." Coach said with a small smile on his face. He would never admit it, but Kara was a spitfire, and he was more than happy for her to be his starter. "Let's go!" Coach Queen shouted. "Offensive defensive drills! First defender to sack the QB gets ten bucks!" The boys lined up quickly. "Good luck, Danvers."

Kara lines up, smiling beneath her helmet. Coach lets her call the plays. Assistant Coach Diggle stands beside Coach Queen. He folds his arms and quietly says, "Oliver, are you sure you want to just dismiss Jack like that?"

"Watch," Queen nods. Kara unloads pass after pass, spreading them evenly across the field. When there's no one open it looks like Queen is about to be out ten bucks, but Kara explodes out of the gap between two linemen and goes twenty yards before someone manages to tangle up her feet. Other than that, not a single person lays hands on the quarterback. "See," Coach Queen says as he hits Diggle in the chest. "I knew she was our starter, regardless. No one can question me when they know what Jack pulled, trying to hit a girl." Coach Queen smiled at QB number one. "What they don't know is that's not 'just a girl'" he put air quotes around the phrase, clipboard tucked under his armpit. "That's a starting quarterback. She can defend herself, and she's gonna carry us straight to playoffs if we shape up around her. We'll have a championship this year or next, you watch."

"Bet on it," Diggle grumbled.

"Five large?" Queen asked.

"Five grand? Easy for a billionaire. With Lyla at home and Sara in diapers? She'd kill me."

Oliver nodded at his assistant coach. "If she doesn't get us a championship, I will pay you five grand. If she does, you have to tell everyone you meet you were wrong and I was right about her for a week."

"Deal." Diggle and Queen shook hands. Coach Barry Allen eyed them, knowing that betting against Oliver Queen was foolish. Queen pointed at Barry, wondering if he wanted to get in on the bet. Barry shook his head, so Queen blew the whistle loudly, making Diggle roll his eyes. The team gathered up as coach announced he owed the entire offense ten bucks each for protecting their quarterback. He also announced the starting offense, saying that Jack was out of the running. The boys clapped. Clark slapped Kara happily on the back, calling them the one two punch. Kara pushed him away, and he stumbled while the rest of the boys laughed. She had never felt so happy in her life.

Kara walked home from the practice, pads and cleats hanging off her left shoulder, backpack hanging from her right. She couldn't wait to get home and tell the Danvers, her adoptive family, how she had done. Jeremiah would die when he knew she was following in his footsteps as starting QB. Kara left Clark at his house, where he couldn't wait to tell his mom and dad.

Clark was Kara's biological cousin, placed with an adoptive family just like she was. Clark had been left with the Zor-El family when he was a baby. His mom had disappeared, and his dad was a mystery. Until they were six, Kara and Clark had been raised by her parents. When the Zor-El's died in a fire, Kara and Clark hadn't been able to be placed in a home together. Kara had been placed with the Danvers, who had a daughter about her age. Clark had been placed with the Kents, a lovely couple who couldn't have a child and were happy to adopt one. Kara and Clark knew they had been lucky. They were only a few blocks apart, and they were still in their hometown. Everyone knew their story, but everyone had known them since birth. They were three miles from the hospital they'd been born in. They were down the street from where they had been raised. Clark and Kara had taken their adoptive family's last names, but they both adopted Zor-El as their middle names as an ode to the people who loved them as best as, and as long as, they could.

Clark jogged to his house, dropping his shoes and pads on the porch. He hugged his dad, Johnathan, and give him the good news. "Kara's starting!"

"No she isn't!" Johnathan exclaimed. "Martha, get out here!" Martha hurried to the door. Kara dragged her hand down her sweaty face. "Kara, tell your aunt!"

"Hey, Aunt Martha," Kara waved sheepishly. "I got named starter."

"You didn't!" She gasped. Kara nodded, and Martha jogged to her niece on the sidewalk. "I'm so proud of you!" Martha crushed Kara. "Oh, you're gross." Martha let go and stepped back. Kara shrugged. "We are so proud of you. Aren't we Johnathan!"

"We are so proud!" He echoed from where he stood on the porch, an arm around Clark's shoulders. "Alright, get in the house. Chores and a shower before dinner!" Johnathan gave his son a gentle shove, sending him to the screen door. Clark disappeared obediently. "Kara, you beat out Jack?" Kara let his astonishment go.

"I did." She smiled, deciding not to let her aunt and uncle know that Jack had tried to hit her. "Coach named me starter today. It's official."

"We're so happy. Go home and tell your parents. Jeremiah and Eliza are simply going to die."

Kara laughed. "Don't say that. Mom might actually die. She gets torn between telling me I should quit and explaining the physics that will allow me to beat the bigger boys. Depends on the day."

Martha laughed and hugged Kara one more time. "You hurry home. Johnathan and I have to finish dinner before Clark finishes his chores. You know how that boy can eat."

Kara laughed again, thanking her lucky stars for the Kents and all their love. "I'm going. Dad's gonna love this." Kara waved at them as she left. She only had a few blocks to go before she would finally be home. Kara hummed to herself, some tune she'd heard on the radio the day before. She turned the corner and saw a girl she'd never seen before.

The girl in front of her was a stranger. In a town of 3,000, she knew every single person of school age. The girl was leaning over into the engine of a gorgeous sports car. The girl seemed assured in everything she did, and Kara wondered who she could be. The girl stood up and wiped her hands on a rag before turning around. She locked eyes with Kara, who realized she had been staring. The girl looking at her was sixteen, maybe seventeen. She had pale white skin, jet black hair, and light green eyes that seemed to strip Kara bare. "Can I help you?" The girl asked in a clipped tone.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare. Something wrong with your car?" Kara asked as she looked over the sports car in front of her. She knew it was a Mustang, and that was about it. Karta didn't do cars.

"Not really. Just a loose spark plug. Happens when you let a shop deal with your car's tune up instead of doing it yourself. Jiggle the wire, push it back down, everything is fine." Lena held the rag in her hand, looking Kara up and down.

"Cars. Yep."

Lena smiled a wry, sarcastic smile. Her eyes settled on Kara's football pads. She responded with, "Sports. Yep."

Kara shook her head and took a step towards Lena. "Hi, I'm Kara. Kara Danvers."

Lena took Kara's hand in her slightly oily hand. "Lena. Lena Luthor." Kara didn't think twice about the oil now on her hand. "You go to the school?" Lena nodded in the direction of the high school.

"I do. Luthor, as in Lex?"

Lena rolled her eyes. "Yes, as in Lex. But don't judge me off that idiot."

Kara laughed, remembering the rude shit brick that was Lex Luthor. Thankfully, he and James had graduated the same year, so Lex was out of town going to college. "I won't, I promise."

"Good. Because I start at the school on Monday, and I can only imagine how many people are going to hear Luthor and be waiting for me to blow up the chemistry lab."

Kara smiled. "What's chemistry?"

"Oh god, please don't be a dumb jock." Lena put a hand on her forehead, smearing oil across her smooth skin.

Kara laughed. "I'm kidding. My parents are scientists."

"Danvers, right? Like Eliza and Jeremiah?" Kara nodded, and Lena continued. "Oh, thank god. You come from good stock. They work at my parents' company."

"Don't get your hopes up. I'm adopted."

Lena rolled her eyes. "This conversation is like a rollercoaster. Are you smart, are you not? I don't know."

"Well, for someone so smart, you have oil on your forehead." Lena leaned over and used the car's side mirror to see her forehead. "Who's dumb now?" Kara laughed as she started to walk away.

"I'm betting it's you!" Lena called to Kara's back.

"We'll see, Miss Luthor, we'll see," Kara called over her shoulder as she continued home. She heard the Mustang fire up behind her. Looks like Lena was pretty good with cars. Kara couldn't identify the feeling settling in the back of her mind, but she ignored it when she got to her front door. It was time to tell her family the good news.

Welcome to the shitpost that is my mind?

Someone help me.