Be There | A Dwayne Robertson Fanfic ✔️

New Kids

Light shines into the room from the window, hitting me perfectly in the face, like a spiteful bitch. I groan and attempt to sit up, but Dean, who apparently decided we were having a sleepover last night, has his arm thrown across me. His mouth is open and nasally snores come from it.

I poke him on the cheek, which is actually quite squishy, but to no avail. "Dean, Dean," I say, each poke getting harder. I slap my hand across his chest, not in any way that could mildly hurt him. "Dean. Dean!" I raise my hand again, but he catches my wrist lightly.

"Don't hit me again, please," he mumbles, releasing my hand. He turns on side and ignores my try at waking him up.

I roll onto my back, and with all my power, I use my feet and shove him off the bed, causing him to fall on his face.

"Shit! Meg!" He grumbles, his head shooting up from the floor to glare at me. "What the hell!"

"We have to leave in two hours to go to Minnesota. Get ready," I order, pointing to the door. He rolls his eyes, but stands up.

"How's your face?" His eyebrows scrunch together as he realizes he should've worded that differently, especially for a girl.

"It's fine, Dean," I respond. "Go! We're going to miss our flight!" I push him out the door, leaning against it after it's shut.

I grab a grey and black hoodie shirt, a pair of dark-wash jeans, and tan moccasins, and I slip them on, packing clothes in my hockey backpack for after practice as well as sports clothes. I run into the bathroom before Dean and make sure I look presentable after brushing my teeth and throwing my hair into a messy bun.

I grab my hockey backpack, my small backpack, and my suitcases and struggle my way down the hall. I stop at the front door and wait ten minutes for Dean to finish. Once he's done, we leave the apartment, not bothering to say "goodbye" to our dad, and we descend the six flights of stairs. Not sure how we did it, honestly.

Mr. Tibbles sent a cab to our apartment building, so we climb inside and drive to the airport. Neither of us have been on a plane before so I'm nervous, but kind of excited.

The airport is very, white, and clean, full of people. Which is bad, because Dean is not a people person. Other travelers give me and Dean strange looks as we check our suitcases and hockey bags, then trek to our gate, zooming through security.

After an hour of waiting, we board our plane, me in a window seat, and Dean next to me. The plane takes off, leaving Chicago behind. I hope whatever city in Minnesota we're going to is better than here.

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The flight only takes about three hours, considering Minnesota is only two states from Illinois. We rush off the plane, grab our luggage, and head to the lobby where there is a middle-aged man with a bushy brown mustache holding a sign with our names on it.

"Hello," he says when we walk over to him. "You must be Meg and Dean. I'm Nick, your driver to the hockey rink. I was sent by Mr. Tibbles to pick you up."

We nod and follow the man to his van, climbing into the back. As we drive towards the rink, I notice that we're not in a city. We're in a small rinky-dink town. I sigh, considering I was looking forward to a new city setting.

I glance at my watch, and I internally scream. We only have twenty minutes until we have to be on the ice. ON the ice! I tap my feet, hoping he'll speed up, but he seems to go slower and slower.

Finally, finally, we reach the rink, and I race out of the van and inside, while Dean takes his time. He'll probably be late anyway. I find my way into the locker room, changing into my jersey from my team and putting on my skates quickly. I hurry to the ice, sneaking a glance at the nearby clock. Two minutes.