𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔩 | 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗺𝗮𝗻

six: "guys completely suck"

"Team U.S.A., how does it feel competing on the international level here in Los Angeles?"

My eyes shifted around the growing crowd standing in front of the stage the team and I stood on. It was mostly reporters with either microphones or cameras. The man who had just asked us a question pushed towards the front and stuck out a small voice recorder.

"It feels great!" one of my teammates answered and we all added in comments of agreement.

Another man stepped forward, this time with a big microphone. "Coach Bombay, the Vikings from Iceland are the heavy favorite. Their coach has already guaranteed victory. How are you gonna handle them?"

We all looked to Coach who took a moment to collect his thoughts and come up with a good response. "Um... hard work. I think our team is ready to go up against the best in the world. We're not worried about 'em."

"Speak for yourself," Averman whispered and I stifled a laugh.

"Iceland may be tough, but, uh... we're Team U.S.A. and we're goin' all the way." Coach nodded to signify that he was done and we all cheered, agreeing with his statement.

Tibbles stepped forward and waved his hands. "Alright everyone that's it, thank you."

The crowd began to disperse and I turned to follow the rest of my team off stage.

"Team U.S.A.'s going down. That's where you're going." Everyone's attention was turned to the intimidating man with greasy hair who had just spoken. "See you on the ice, Bombay!"

I looked at the man, trying to figure out who he was. I hadn't seen him at the rest of the press conference and he was standing in the back like he had just shown up. My eyes shifted to the people around him and then landed on Crew. Team Iceland.

"I heard Stansson punched out his own coach." Charlie joined me in staring at the group along with Ken and Julie.

"They ran him out of the league and the country." Julie continued.

"His team is huge!" I said, mentally comparing their guys to ours. I knew the Iceland players were going to be tough but I didn't think they would look 30 years old. Suddenly, an arm shot up from the team and I saw Crew waving me over to him.

"Uh, do you know that guy?" Ken pointed and I sighed.

"Kind of. I'll be right back." I left my three friends and made my way to where Crew and another boy were standing. He flashed me his signature perfect smile and I politely returned it.

"Hey Bex. This is John Morgan." I tried to ignore the fact that he had just called me by my nickname and turned to the blonde boy next to him. John stuck out his hand and I tentatively shook it.

"Um, cool." I rocked back on my heels and glanced back to my team. "I'm not really supposed to be talking to you guys so I should probably get going."

"Oh come on. Enemies on the ice sure, but can't we be friends otherwise?" Crew asked and nudged John.

I shook my head at this boy's weird and sudden want to befriend me.

"I guess," I answered, just wanting to leave. I looked over towards my team again and saw Dean's eyes locked on the two boys. If looks could kill, they would be dead. He must've been really upset that I was talking to our rival team. "I better go."

"Yeah, before Portman takes us out." John nodded and laughed a little.

I turned to leave but quickly swiveled my head back towards the two. "Wait, how do you know Dean?"

John started to answer when Crew jumped in. "We uh, heard Coach Stansson talking about him earlier. Bash brothers."

I slowly nodded, not at all buying this excuse. "Right."