He's a Hockey player. She's a figure ice skater. After a dramatic experience, Julia White is chosen to substitute Roman O'Connor's team, and he's not so happy about it. Can his team win the the season? Can he tolerate Julia bossing him around for a...
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"And number 57 coming in from the right wing... quick fake! Dodging Withers' attack! He shoots, he scores!"
The crowd goes wild as I raise my arms in victory. "Yassss! You can't tell me that Roman guy isn't hot as hell!" Someone in the front row yells.
During my victory lap, I wink to a couple of girls as I zoom past them, making them squeal and faint. Girls like those are always easy to please.
The score board is fifteen to fifteen with thirty seconds left in the second to last quarter. The hockey players take their positions as the audience sits on the edge of their seats.
I nod to my teammates on my left and right as we prepare to play.
The whistle blew. Twenty eight... Twenty seven...
I zoom off, kicking up snow. Twenty four... Twenty three...
The puck flies between sticks. Twenty... Nineteen...
I make the run for it. Seventeen... Sixteen...
The crowd cheers at the top of their lungs. Fourteen... Thirteen...
I have a straight shot. It's now or never. Ten... nine...
Just as I'm about to shoot, John Withers crashes into me. He almost takes me to the ground. A wave of cheers and boos came over the crowd.
What the hell!? I keep my balance and swing at the puck with all my might in between Withers' legs.
I make the shot. Yes! I-
John kicks me in the groin, actually taking me to the ground this time. That son of a bitch. I get up and tackle him to the ground, punching his stomach. No one handles me like that.
My teammates watch us fight, not knowing what to do. Smart choice. Nothing'll stop me from beating the hell out of this son of a bitch.
The crowd screams at the top of their lungs, instigating the fight. The referee blows the whistle repeatedly, rushing over to stop the fight.
John punches me in the head, knocking off my helmet. Oh you wanna play like that? Ignoring the ref screaming in my face, I put John in a headlock.
The coach rushes to my side, panicking. "Let go, O'Connor! We have an audience!" With a groan I loosen my grip and drop him like trash before storming off the ice.
The game holds for intermission, while they clean the blood spilt from my nose and the coach benches me for the rest of the game.
A load of bullshit if you ask me.
༄༄༄
"Great job out there O'Connor." The coach says sarcastically after the game. "Tell that to John Withers. You do know he attacked me first right? He's the one who drew blood from me."
Coach D lets out a small laugh. "It doesn't matter. You fought him and the world saw. They don't care who started it. They do care about the fact you put him in a headlock."
I let out an exasperated sigh, deciding that the best thing to do is swallow my pride and listen.
"Look, his coach and I will sort out all of the legal issues to try to clean your mess. As for the game, both teams has been disqualified."
"What!? What was I supposed to do? Let him hit me!? That's a load of bull!" I protest, stuffing my helmet in my bag.
"Roman, you need to get your anger in check. I'm afraid if your behavior continues, you can't continue to represent our state in this team."
Suddenly, his phone starts to ring. He looks at it before answering the call and walking out of the room, leaving me alone.
I angrily take off my skates and equipment and pack it up. "What a dick..." I walk out of the locker room and look out at the empty stadium. It's so quiet.
Out of the windows I see my whole team huddled around something outside. I rush outside to see what's going on. "What are you guys doing?"
"The coach just texted everyone two announcements." A teammate named Smith says. "Well?" I ask, peering at the phone he's holding.
"We're back in the playoffs!" He yells. Everyone cheers, jumping and celebrating. "Let's go!!" Someone yells. I knew they wouldn't take us out! "Wait."
We all freeze, surprised at his lack of enthusiasm. "...the coach won't be here for the rest of the season. He's traveling overseas to take care of his sick mother."
Everyone goes silent. This is abrupt. "Did he already leave?" Another teammate named Chadwin asked. "Yeah. She had seizure out of nowhere, so it's pretty urgent."
Damn, I hope she's okay. "So who's gonna coach us?" Chadwin asks. "He says we'll find out at practice next week."
