𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗛 𝗦𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥?

15 : lies

after putting on our track suits again, we were called for an interview with the press. we walked through all of the reporters and stood around on stage, with don at the mic.

"ladies and gentlemen team usa hockey," don started by presenting all of us. "and the man who chose to lead them to the gold, gordon bombay."

a sudden big white bear mascot came onto the stage with us and multiple snapshots were taken of us. i was surprised by the sudden popularity we gained in the matter of one day.

"team usa, how does it feel competing on the international level, here in los angeles?" a blonde woman wearing a blue suit asked us. before coach could respond, we answered for her. "really great!"

"coach bombay, the vikings from iceland are the heavy favorite. their coach is already guaranteed victory. how are you going to handle them?" a woman in a pink suit asked.

he stayed quiet for a moment before responding to the reporter. "hard work. i think our team is ready to go up against the best in the world. we're not worried about them. iceland may be tough but, we're team usa and we're going all the way." coach said confidently.

everybody clapped at his response. i was even impressed with the words he said. i had a good feeling that coach bombay thought we could win. i just hoped he'd prove it to us.

"team usa is going down, that's where you're going." a tall man with slicked back hair had announced aloud for everyone to turn their head. "see you on the ice bombay," he said before him and his team were slowly escorted out.

i gulped as i saw the size of the iceland players. some of them had to be almost twice the size of me. when they left, i hadn't realized the breath i was holding in.

i guess dean must of noticed when he came next to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "you alright?" he asked. "yeah. i'm totally not scared to go against guys who are twice the size of me," i sarcastically said.

"i'll protect you, don't worry sweetheart," dean responded. a small blush arose onto my cheeks. i quickly turned my head away so he wouldn't see.

we all made our way back to our dorms. seeing those guys made my head spin and i was glad when i laid down in my bed.

for the rest of the evening, i read some of my book and then had dinner with a few of my teammates. both fulton and dean were now keeping me up with their hilarious stories from their childhood.

"we've told plenty of stories about us, what about you bella? how'd you get into hockey?" fulton asked me as he sat back in his chair and took a sip from his water. both of their eyes were on me now.

my breath was stuck in my throat. i never really talked about my childhood or the past with anybody. only a few people back from my hometown knew what occurred.

but before i could think of how to respond to fulton's question, my mouth spoke for itself. "my dad was close to making the nhl, but he got cut on the last practice. i wanted to kinda carry on what he did, i guess."

i surprised myself with my words. my dad almost making the nhl? please, i wish. i did hockey all myself. it was my own coping mechanism in a way for all that happened.

"wow, your dad almost made the nhl? that's like better than two pints of ice cream!" dean exclaimed. i chuckled at what he had said.

for the remainder of the time we were in the dining room, i told stories about my family. some of them being true, but most of them honestly weren't.

i never said a peep about my brother though. even most people back in my hometown had forgotten i even had a brother before.

though as i kept going on with telling these 'stories,' i began to feel ashamed. i was lying about my whole childhood to these two boys.

even though i may have only known the both of them for a week, i already felt a strong connection forming between the three of us. we all got along greatly and now here i was, putting this friendship in somewhat danger.

i did my best throughout the rest of the night to not think of it as much. though it was hard when you had two hockey fanatics in front of you, bombarding you with questions about your dad.

"so like, was he really that good?"

"what position did he play?"

"what team didn't want him? he sounds great!"

"did he teach you all of your moves?"

but then, one of their little comments caught me completely off guard.

"oh my gosh, we have to meet him! or maybe even have a phone call with him. i'd love to hear some tips from an almost-pro," dean said excitedly.

oh dear, what was i getting myself into?