Hellion is a privately owned company that sponsors a decathlon every five years. The prospects for this year were wonderful. Bry Davids, the twins Tommy and Jonny Smith, Nicole Highcal, Diane Carlson, Danny Matthews, Tiffany St. John, George Walters, Mark Edison, Bobby Kidd, Vincent Hernandez… The executive pushed the paper away, crossing his fingers. He had heard about the last three of the boys, four really. And the only one he thought was worth his salt was the Hernandez kid. The other four were good athletes, but had less than sterling personas after the physical was considered. The nameless executive leaned in his chair, a projection of the stadium in Alaska on his screen, revolving around and around.

Vincent rushes up the steps to the complex; hardly believing this is what all his hard work paid off as. He streams past the indoor swimming pool he will undoubtedly spend TOO much time in during his hours of training. Swimming is definitely not his best suit. He goes to his room, finding it occupied by another boy already. The somewhat shorter, blond boy smiles and extends a hand. "My name's Bry, what's yours?"

"I'm Vincent."

"Hi Vince, where're you from?"

"I live in California." Bry began to cough. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, I just caught something. I'll be fine for competition. You better get cleaned up bud, we have a banquet in a half an hour."

"Really?"

"Yeah, some sort of get to know your fellow competitors thing. I think the girls will even be there."

"Girls." Vincent rolled his eyes.

"What's wrong with girls? You like guys or something?"

"No." He said as he scrubbed his face in the sink. "I've just had enough of them for a while. At home they all chase after me like I'm some Calvin Klein model or something. I get sick of them, because its usually the oh so beautiful but painfully stupid ones who vie most for my attention."

"I can see where you would have that problem. I, on the other hand, don't have a problem with it."

"You'd be surprised what some girls will go for. My second-best was some ebony black guy with annoying voice and even worse facial features."

"Why'd they like him?" Bry asked as Vince pulled on a white sweater over his loose khakis.

"He could make a three pointer sink from half court."

"Superficial. I can see why you wouldn't be too enthusiastic about meeting any more too soon."

The girl packs up her things, awaiting her return trip to school. She has been going to the private boarding school for three years now, a junior at the academy, and it suits her. She throws her favorite stuffed animal and pair of gym shoes atop her pile of things to pack. Her mother calls to her from the doorway.

"Andrea!"

"Yeah mom?"

"Are you almost ready to go?" Her mother asks as she walks into the room. "I see Simba is still tagging along with you. I do sometimes wish that you would find a nice boy to replace him."

"But you and I both know that the moment I do dad and Ethan will go crazy, so I prefer to save a life and stick to Simba."

Her mother sighed.

"I'll try mom. Really, you act as if I'm not even looking. Alone is not the way I want to spend my entire life. And I do have college ahead of me."

She left the room, and her mother wrung her hands together, fretting over if she would have college to look for a boyfriend. It had been a hard-pressed decision on whether to send her away or not, farther than school at that. Her mother being a librarian had allowed her access to the information about those to that could leave the planet in case of an event the governments were foreseeing. Begrudgingly she had yielded to her husband's case, sighting that the governments were never honest before. And so that was that and they were packing her away to her third year of boarding school, which she surprisingly did aptly well in.

The car began to roll out of the driveway. "Aren't there any guys you like at school?"

"Oh mom. There are a couple, but it's a purely looks based attraction, and I don't really want anyone like that. I don't want to spend my entire relationship marveling at the number of phone numbers that my boyfriend can pick up on a single date. It wouldn't be right. I don't trust them, I just look."

"Sometimes I wonder that some college boy hasn't turned your way…"

"I know, I know, I'm too smart for my own good."

"Never say that. There may come a time when your intelligence is all you have left."

"I doubt it."