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“Who are you for,” asked Kyle Kuu, a skinny, rude freshman guy holding an omni-recorder up to Nick's face as he jumped in front of Nick, Joram, and Tomma walking towards the Student Center. “Are you for the Champions or the Pipes?”
“Neither,” Tomma said butting in on Nick and standing between him and the Kyle before Nick had a chance to speak.
“Someone else, maybe the Numbers?” asked Kyle.
“We don't believe in dark energy.”
Kyle became even ruder when he laughed openly at Tomma's response, making Joram want to hide behind Nick or a building somewhere. Nick, however, wasn't interested in hiding at the moment. “Why did you do that?” he spat irritably at Tomma as Kyle jumped in front of his next victim, a black-haired Chinese-looking girl. "You're worse than he is!"
“Who are you for, the Champions or the Pipes?” They heard him ask.
“Because they're using dark energy,” Tomma said with a characteristic intensity over her narrow face she hadn't shown in quite some time. “It's bad, you know that!"
“The Pipes are great,” the Chinese girl answered the reporter emphatically, eyeing Nick and Tomma warily. "They're the best."
“So they're not the best; I can still root for one of them,” Nick shot back at Tomma with a face turning reddish. "It's not like I'm joining them."
“The Champions, the Champions, the Champions…” chanted a group of guys as Kyle approached them.
“You're rooting for dark energy then,” Tomma said back to Nick, her face also turning red. "Just look at them when they fight. You want to promote that? You want to be like that?"
"I'm not saying I want to be like that! Its sports! I'm not promoting dark energy just by rooting for a sports team," Nick said emphatically.
"We're promoting the Pipes," claimed a guy with cropped red hair among a group of three guys batting a white ball that floated mysteriously on the air, defying gravity. Kyle was obviously having trouble concentrating on them with the ball zooming back and forth in front of his face.
"Yeah, what quarky pions. We're going to pound those chanting Champions," added a long- haired gangly guy as he kicked the ball back to one if his companions, almost hitting Kyle.
“The Champions, the Champions, the Champions…”
“I want to pounds some puny pions,” said Neal Groep with veins popping out of his sinewy face. He talked with the stocky Tim Buzi while they walked across the Pythagoras area towards where Kyle was conducting his interviews, pointing to the growing, chanting group, “And I want to start with the Champions. Are you in?”
“Yes I am,” Tim resounded confidently.
"Yes you are," said Tomma, raising her voice at Nick. "When you promote a team you're promoting dark energy, because they're both using it!"
Nick also raised his voice in response, "LOOK, JUST BECAUSE I LIKE A SPORTS TEAM DOESN'T MEAN I'M INTO DARK ENERGY!"
A larger group had gathered behind the Champions, trying to shout "The Champions" in unison with them but they weren’t quite in sync, and the first part was lost, producing something that sounded more like "Pions, pions, pions". This caused the three batting the air soccer ball to laugh while still trying to practice their fancy jumps and kicks. Neal and Tim couldn’t hold their composure either, hooting with the air soccer players.
"YOU'RE PROMOTING DARK ENERGY!" Tomma yelled back at Nick. Nick turned a deeper shade of red, crossed his arms, and prepared to angrily walk away. Joram wanted to hide somewhere else.
"PIONS, PIONS, PIONS," the Champions shouted louder, making Neal and Tim laugh harder.
“Right from their own mouths,” Tim snorted. “Those guys are such pions that I think we can easily beat them in the first round!”
Nick and Tomma suddenly quit arguing and began laughing, looking at each other with what Joram mused to be something more than just friendship.
The guy with red- cropped hair was laughing so hard that he completely missed the ball that zoomed passed him and continued until it slowly sank to the ground in front of Bill Manias, Dustin Rajongo, Jeff Gruppe walking very closely with Stacy Delecto, Anika Perperam, and Earlen Uekte.
Narration by Howard Douglas; based on discussions with Tomma Torstig.>/p>
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