#nicosasha

It's not the worst choice Niccolo could have made. After all, a lot of his friends are in football and he’s not terrible at the sport. He’s also a running back, one of three, so even if he screws up there are other people who can cover for him. He’s decent enough as a running back that the team hasn’t considered him a weak link, at least not until tonight. Tonight, Niccolo is distracted.  

As they break for halftime, the team’s quarterback — a sophomore named Reiner Braun — catches up to Niccolo, throwing an arm around the running back’s shoulder. Reiner is still a little out of breath, but he gives Niccolo a half smile as he asks, “What’s wrong, Niccolo? You’re off your game tonight, and it’s an important one. Are you worried about how your snacks are doing in the stands?”  

“I don’t know why he’d be worried. Half the people here came for the concessions. Even Shiganshina’s heard about it,” Marcel says from behind them, jogging a bit to catch up with them. “Porco didn’t even stay to listen to Coach Magath talk. He just made a beeline for the concession stand to get Pieck some of those bacon cheese fries that everyone’s crazy about.”  

“Dude is fucking whipped,” Reiner snickers, but Niccolo is hardly listening to his teammates. 

Niccolo wriggles away from Reiner, mumbling an excuse about how he has to check on something. He also heads in the direction of the concession stand, but he’s not there for the food. He’s drawn to a brunette in a cheerleading uniform bearing the colors of Marley’s rival school who is also heading toward the concession stand even though she had already visited it twice before the game even began.  

Niccolo pushes past students and parents who have come to watch the game. He mumbles apologies as he weaves through the crowd, his eyes fixed on the cheerleader. He doesn’t dare blink for risk of losing her among the sea of people. When he finally catches up, he reaches out to touch her shoulder without even thinking about how strange it is for him to approach her despite not knowing her at all.  

As she turns around, Niccolo is thinking about the hundreds of ways he’s already messed up. What is he supposed to say to her? That he was entranced by her the moment she zipped to the concession stand right after her school’s football team arrived on the Marley high campus? That he couldn’t take his eyes after her as she waited for the concession stand to finish setting up so she could order one of everything on the menu? That he watched her eat every bite of food — food that he specifically curated for the concession stand — and then saw her go back for seconds? He’s itching to tell her he was the one who had came up with the menu and he was dying to know what she thought of it, but she’ll probably look at him like he’s crazy.  

“Hello?”  

Niccolo realizes the cheerleader is looking at him now. She’s ordered more food from the concession stand: another order of bacon cheese fries, nachos loaded with jalapenos and crushed hot Cheetos, and a hot dog topped with chili. She doesn’t look alarmed to have been approached by someone from the rival football team. Instead, she looks curious, her head tilted slightly as she waits for Niccolo to speak.  

“Sorry, do I know you?” the girl asks. 

“N-no! But I’ve been watching you,” Niccolo begins before stopping himself as he realizes how awful that sounds. Hurriedly, he gestures towards the food in the girl’s hands and starts again, “I mean, I’ve seen you go back and forth from the concession stand all night-”  

The girl’s expression immediately lights up at the mention of the concession stand. “Have you been? You must have been super busy with the game. I don’t know if you can eat during halftime, but you should really get the chili dogs. They’re super amazing!” 

Niccolo feels his face begin to flush. “I actually was going to ask you about the food. I helped with the menu. I was wondering what people thought of the menu, but I’ve never seen anyone enjoy the food as much as you.” 

“Are you kidding?” the cheerleader’s eyebrows are raised in surprise. She looks around and then back at Niccolo, the same incredulous expression on her face. “Everyone’s been talking about it. People have been talking about how Marley has the best food at their home games. I’ve been waiting for this game forever!”  

Niccolo smiles. The girl’s enthusiasm for food is infectious and her praise is making the tips of his ears turn red. “I added a few things from last year’s menu, so it’s good you came to the game this year. I’m glad you like the food.” 

“Oh my gosh, I love it! I could eat this all day,” the girl sighs. She scoots up closer, leaning in so she can hear Niccolo better. “What did you say your name was?”  

“N-Niccolo,” he stammers. He hadn’t anticipated being so close to her. He almost stumbles backward in surprise, but his feet are rooted where he stands. 

“I’m Sasha. I’d shake your hand, but my hands are kind of full right now,” the girl grins, shrugging as she shows him the food she’s holding. She balances all the food in her hands with the grace and eloquence that only a high school cheerleader can have. 

“You like everything? Do you have a favorite? I’ve eaten everything on the menu probably a hundred times, so it’s hard for me to judge now,” Niccolo says. 

Sasha is already nodding, eager to share her thoughts. “Picking a favorite out of these is way too hard! Everything tastes so good. I can't even walk away  without ordering everything.”  

Niccolo finds that he loves the way Sasha talks about food. She goes into detail about everything she’s eating: the taste, the texture, how the flavors blend together. She doesn’t spare any details. Niccolo doesn’t think he’s ever been more enraptured by anything in his life. He’s so engrossed in everything Sasha is saying that he doesn’t notice when two football players are approaching him from behind until they throw their arms around him. 

“Hey,” one of the football players says. He wears a formidable grin as he looks over at Niccolo. He isn’t one of Niccolo’s teammates but a player from Shiganshina High, Niccolo realizes; it’s one of the linebackers. He’s not as large as the other players on the Marley team. He’s rather tall and lanky for a football player, with a long face and dark brown hair that’s lighter on top from playing in the sun. “Who have we got here? Are you fraternizing with the enemy, Sasha?”  

“You can’t be making friends with the Marley players, Sasha. They’re our rivals after all,” the player on Niccolo’s other side chastises, but his large gray eyes are fixed on Niccolo as he speaks. Like his friend, he’s also tall, his frame not at all what one would think of as a football player but still athletic and sturdy. His hair is shaved close to his head. “Are you trying to steal secrets?” 

“That’s just Niccolo,” Sasha says. She doesn’t seem to notice the suspicious way her friends are regarding Niccolo. “He helped with making the menu for the concession stand. You know how everyone was saying that Marley has hands down the best food at their football games? It’s even better than what everyone said. You guys should try it.” 

Niccolo gulps nervously as the two football players stare him down. They regard him coldly even when Sasha holds out her food, offering it to them. Without breaking their gaze, they both take some of the food Sasha offers — the brunet takes the chili dog while the one with the shaved head takes the fries loaded with cheese and bacon. Even when they take their arms off Niccolo’s shoulders, they continue to stare him down as they take their first bite of his food. 

The football player with the shaved head barely swallows before moaning, “Oh my god. Oh my god, what the fuck? That was fucking delicious.”  

His companion nods vigorously. He hardly finishes swallowing before going in for another bite of his chili dog. With food tucked into the pocket of his cheek, the football player says, “Sasha, the game is about to start again. We’re going to have to go with our new friend Niccolo.” 

“Jean!” Sasha calls as Jean and Connie leave with Niccolo in turn. “Jean, you and Connie owe me more food later! You have to get me more stuff from the concession stand once the game is over!” 

Jean, the player with the two-toned hair, just signs “OK” without looking back. He throws his arm around Niccolo again, his other hand still holding the chili dog. “Niccolo, Niccolo, Niccolo.”  

“Niccolo, Niccolo, Niccolo,” the one named Connie echoes. His voice is far less threatening than Jean but still threatening, nonetheless. Like Jean, he’s also thrown his arm around Niccolo’s shoulders once more. 

Niccolo tries not to tremble under their gazes. He wonders if he’s made a mistake approaching Sasha. He hadn’t even considered if she had a boyfriend. Of course, it would make sense someone like her would have a boyfriend. Niccolo’s only talked to her for a few minutes, and he can tell she’s an adorable, amazing ball of sunshine. He can’t tell if Jean or Connie is the boyfriend. It could be either one of them. God, it could be both of them. Someone like Sasha would be able to snag two boyfriends at once. Niccolo shouldn’t have been so naïve. He’s so busy mourning the loss of his barely existent relationship with Sasha before he realizes Jean is talking to him. 

“It’s very clear that you’re enamored with our Sasha, and who wouldn’t be?” Jean is saying. He realizes that Niccolo is only just checking into their conversation, and he takes his arm off Niccolo’s shoulders to snap his fingers in the distracted line runner’s face. “Hey, this is about our friend, so it’s kind of important. Pay attention.” 

“H-huh?” Niccolo had hardly heard anything Jean had just said, but he does notice that Jean referred to Sasha as ‘friend’ and not ‘girlfriend’. Perhaps a bit too eagerly, Niccolo asks, “‘Friend’? Not ‘girlfriend’? You guys aren’t dating? Neither of you are dating her?”  

“Are you kidding? She’s our best friend,” Connie snorts, “but it’s clear that you’re interested in her, so we wanted to talk to you first.”  

“Talk to me?” Niccolo repeats. Is it to warn him? To chase him away from the beautiful, food-loving cheerleader who might very well be the love of his life? To challenge him to a duel after this game is over to protect Sasha from someone they clearly perceive as the enemy? Niccolo is debating on how long he’d last in a fight with two football players that are around his build but then Jean speaks. 

“It’s clear that you’re interested in her, but we’d like you to consider us,” Jean says, and Niccolo nearly stumbles over his feet. 

“Consider … you guys?” Niccolo isn’t quite sure he’s heard right. “As like …”  

“You can date one of us. Or both of us. Or us and Sasha,” Connie says, which doesn’t make Niccolo less confused. If anything, Niccolo gets more confused the more Connie and Jean speak. 

“Look, we hardly know you, but Sasha is right. Your food is amazing. This is the best chili dog I’ve ever eaten in my life, and I usually don’t even touch the stuff,” Jean says as Connie nods in agreement. “We know Sasha is cuter than the both of us, but we also have unique characteristics that we can offer should you choose one of us to date instead.”  

So, these are the type of people Sasha is friends with, Niccolo muses as Connie and Jean prattle off their good qualities. He’s still trying to wrap his head around what’s happening — if Connie and Jean want him to seriously consider dating them or if they’re just exaggerating how much they like his food. It seems that becoming involved with Sasha is going to be more complicated than Niccolo initially thought.  

Jean and Connie are still talking away as they enter the field. Neither of them notices that Niccolo has stopped listening. As the teams and their players begin to get ready for the second half of the game, Niccolo turns his head to look at where the cheerleaders for Shiganshina High are gathered on the side across from the Marley High football team. He can spot Sasha with her back turned as she talks to the other cheerleaders. He gazes at her wistfully, wishing he had had more time to speak with her, and she turns as if she can hear his thoughts. When their eyes meet, Sasha smiles, her hand raised in a wave while her cheeks are adorably stuffed with nachos. Just across the football field with the other Shiganshina players, Jean and Connie are looking at Niccolo to, pointing at themselves as if to remind him of their earlier discussion. 

It’s actually not all that hard to make the foods that Sasha craves. It’s typically just a mashup of things he can get at the grocery store or a nearby restaurant: cheeseburgers, potato chips, French fries. He just hadn’t anticipated how much of her cravings would involve mashing different foods together, especially foods that have no business being together in the first place. French fries sprinkled with cinnamon sugar and drizzled with chocolate syrup, crisp apple slices with cheddar cheese, black pepper sprinkled on top of ripe strawberries. They’re so simple to put together that it would be an insult to Niccolo’s culinary skills if he were to make this for anyone other than his pregnant wife. 

The cravings also come at the strangest times. It’s usually in the middle of the night or early in the morning before the sun even has a chance to rise. Sometimes it’s even after Sasha eats her fill and declares she can’t eat another bite only to look over at Niccolo sheepishly a few minutes later and mumble about how she might be able to manage a little snack of Cheetos and milk. The books had mentioned that pregnancy cravings like these would typically last until the beginning of the third trimester, but it’s past the seventh month and Sasha’s cravings are still going strong. 

These days Sasha doesn’t even have to ask for Niccolo to know that the baby is starving for something to eat. He can tell by the way she stirs in her sleep, the slightest shift of the bed enough to rouse him from his own slumber so that he can tend to her. Sasha will wake quietly so as not to disturb Niccolo, oblivious to the fact that he’s already awakened. Even though he’s assured her multiple times that she can let him know anytime she needs something no matter the time of day, she’ll aways hesitate just as she does now.  

Niccolo rolls over, draping his arm instinctively over Sasha’s stomach where the baby is steadily growing day by day. “What is it? Are you hungry again? Should I make you something to eat?”  

“It’s really, really late,” Sasha whispers even though there’s no need. Her hand reaches over to cover Niccolo’s, squeezing it gratefully. “I think the baby and I can wait until the morning. You should get some more sleep. You still have work tomorrow.”  

“That’s tomorrow. I can still make you something now. Besides, the baby is hungry,” Niccolo yawns. His words are muffled by the fabric of Sasha’s nightdress. He nuzzles his face against Sasha’s stomach affectionately. “It’s never any trouble. Just tell me what it is the baby’s craving and I’ll make it for you.”  

Sasha’s hand finds its way to the top of Niccolo’s head and she giggles as she runs her fingers through his blond locks. It’s the kind of giggle she lets out when she’s about to request something particularly ridiculous. 

“What is it?” Niccolo asks. He rests his cheek gently against her stomach so that he can gaze at his wife’s face in the dark of their bedroom. Even without the light on he can see the smile stretched across her face.  

“Ice cream,” Sasha begins. 

“Well, that doesn’t seem so bad.” They still have a half-finished tub of vanilla ice cream in the fridge. 

“With pickles,” Sasha continues, and she lets out another little laugh when she sees Niccolo wince. She fails to suppress another laugh, which tells Niccolo that her request is not yet over. “... and drizzled with olive oil.”  

He shouldn’t be surprised, but somehow he always is. He sighs through his nose before getting up, bending over to press a kiss against his wife’s belly and then the top of her head. “I’ll be right back.”  

“Thank you!” Sasha calls as her husband disappears into the kitchen to fetch her strange request.  

Niccolo comes back promptly with a bowl of perfectly scooped ice cream, dill pickles cut and placed in the shape of a flower on top of one scoop with a drizzle of olive oil on top. He presents it to Sasha who wiggles giddily in bed.  

“Oh, that looks amazing,” Sasha breathes, which is not exactly how Niccolo would describe the dessert. She takes it from Niccolo’s hands and takes a scoop that has a little bit of everything — vanilla ice cream, olive oil, and a bit of dill pickle — and eats it eagerly. She savors the taste of it in her mouth before swallowing, humming happily as she eats.  

“Do you like it?” Niccolo asks.  

“I love it,” Sasha answers happily. She makes another little scoop just like the last one, but this time she holds it out to Niccolo with an expectant look on her face. “Your turn.”  

It’s an unspoken rule that Niccolo has to participate in eating all of Sasha’s strange cravings with her. It had taken him off guard the first time, but he’s gotten used to it by now. 

Niccolo leans over to take a bite and shivers at the cold of the ice cream. It’s a strange combination of flavors: sweet from the cool vanilla melting on his tongue, the tart flavor and the crunch of the dill pickle, and the buttery olive oil that slides down his throat.  

“Do you like it?” Sasha asks just as Niccolo swallows. She scoots closer to Niccolo. “It’s good, isn’t it?”  

Niccolo makes a face. It’s not a combination he would ever think of putting together, but he doesn’t hate it. It’s not bad. In fact, he would almost say it’s good but his culinary expertise wants to say otherwise. 

Sasha reaches down to pat her belly. “Daddy loves the food you picked out, baby. You made a new dish that he loves.”  

“I didn’t say I loved it,” Niccolo protests. “Why does this baby have the strangest tastes?”  

“Come on, admit it. You love it,” Sasha laughs. She leans over and presses a kiss against Niccolo’s pouting lips. She still tastes of ice cream and pickles, and Niccolo enjoys the way the taste of it lingers on his tongue.