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CHAPTER FIFTEEN:cheap shot
At their next game, andrea stands on the bench, arm still in its sling and her jersey hanging over her thin frame, to show her support for her team.
they were glad to have her back, all of her teammates pulling her in for a hug or giving her a pat on the back, a few of them lightheartedly joking about her wrist.
charlie had smiled at the sight of her, happy to see that she was feeling better.
when she had finally gone to see adam, he had looked almost disappointed. "why didn't you tell me?" he had asked, a sad look in his eyes.
"i'm sorry," she'd said. "i think... i just thought if i acted like it wasn't there, it would go away."
he had pulled her into a hug, careful not to squash her arm, and all was well between the two once again.
apparently, they had filled her spot on the team, bringing in none other than russ tyler as her replacement. she would be lying if she said she wasn't a little bitter about it; but she knew they meant no harm, only trying to fill the empty spot in their roster.
after having beat canada, they were now left only to face russia. if they won this game, they'd be moving on to the finals.
the game flew by, and with a minute and a half left in the third, USA lead the game two to one.
russ tyler stood at the centre of the blue line in russia's zone, tapping his stick to the ice as he called for the puck.
adam sent the puck over to him. he flips the puck up, just as he had in their street puck match. "it's knuckle puck time!" she hears him say.
he rears back, and shoots the puck. the russian players watch as it flys by their heads, and into the left hand corner of the net. with the three to one win, team USA was now headed for the finals.
but first, coach had planned one last practice for them. he had told them to put their skates on, but leave the rest of their equipment off.
andrea couldn't put her equipment on over her sling, but since they wouldn't need it, she skated onto the ice with her team.
"coach, shouldn't we have our gear on?" luis asked.
coach bombay wore a maroon sweater with a green baseball cap on backwards. she liked him a lot better like this, without the slick hair and fancy outfits.
"guys, this is our last team practice. which means-"
"the return of captain blood." averman joked, cutting him off.
bombay smiled, chuckling along with most of the team. "no. it means," he reached over behind the bench, pulling out a colourful beach ball. "let's have some fun!"
he tossed the beach ball down the ice, the team skating it after it as they whooped and cheered.
after a few minutes of kicking the ball back and forth, averman kicked it down towards centre ice. as andrea turned to skate after it, she froze, all of them stopping as they saw what stood at the red line.
team iceland, lead by their coach, stood on the ice in full gear. coach stansson reached down to pick up the ball that had landed between his feet, standing back up and deflating it in his hands.
"playtime is over," stansson said. "we have the ice now. you and your little rink rats must leave."
team USA stood behind bombay, letting him know they were there with him. andrea made eye contact with the boy who had caused her wrist injury. he lazily smirked at the sight of her sling, as she reminded herself that logically, he'd beat her in a fight.
"the only thing little was your career in the pros." bombay said, a small smile on his face.
most of the team laughed, but andrea had a bad feeling. miss mckay tried to tell gordon to leave, but stansson retaliated, feeding the fire.
"at least i had a shot. i was there."
"you were a disgrace." bombay spat, holding eye contact before turning back to the kids behind him. "alright, team. we're outta here."
"well, please. play a little with me." stansson said. "show me that famous triple deke your daddy taught you."
stansson tossed bombay a stick. he held it in his hands, mentally weighing over his options before looking up. "three bar. first one to hit both posts and the cross bar. have to take it out past the blue line."
"i know the game." stansson snarled.
the teams skated to the side, both sides mentally encouraging their respective coach. the two men faced off, and the teams begin to cheer.
stansson hit the left post. bombay was quick to retaliate, hitting both posts with his next two shots.
the tension was high between the two men, one point away from a win for bombay. a sick feeling settled in andrea's stomach, like something bad was going to happen. she reached for the hand of whoever stood beside her.
charlie looked over as she intertwined their fingers without so much as a glance at him. her teeth tugged at her bottom lip nervously, and he squeezed her hand for reassurance.
bombay handled the puck, getting it past stansson, who fell to the ice. bombay circled back to him, standing over the enemy coach with a grin. "one more post and you go home crying. by the way, you owe me a beach ball."
the feeling in her stomach worsened. why did bombay have to trash talk; why couldn't he have just taken his shot while he had the chance?
his words made stansson angry, the man pushing himself to stand, chasing after bombay down the ice.
as bombay neared the net, stansson slashed his stick across bombay's leg.
he fell the ground, crying out in pain. andrea gasped, letting go of the hand and skating over, her team following suit. they helped bombay to stand.
"get your coach off the ice. we have to practice now."
