He was last to leave the room. He was always last to leave the room. He was taking so long even the teacher had left and told him to catch up in his own time. At least they hadn't seen him drop his new charm, they would have had a field day.
As he leans down to pick up the medallion, he notices a discarded sports bra underneath one of the benches. Simply assuming that two students have been up to no good here in recent hours, he thinks nothing of it, and picks it up to get it out of sight. He'd hate for someone to walk in and think it was his; in fact that's a situation that couldn't get any worse for him.
Putting the bra in the bin, he goes back to grab his medallion and slips it into his shorts, thinking with a mocking grin that it might actually bring him some luck. Tying up his shoelaces and getting ready to rejoin his mortal enemies out on the field, he suddenly feels a pang of guilt at throwing the bra away. It may have belonged to someone, and as he knew from his string of female friends, bras don't come cheap.
Returning to the bin, he reaches in and pulls the bra out, but as soon as his fingertips make contact with the material, he feels a sharp jolt, like an electric shock of some kind. Taking a step backward, he stands confused, but puts it down to some kind of static buildup.
Picking up the bra, he looks for a nametag, and does indeed find one, while not being able to ignore the strange bubbling sensation his body is being encompassed by...