𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔩 | 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗺𝗮𝗻

nine: "bunch of whiny babies"

I stood back up from stretching and rubbed my tired eyes, yawning. The team had gathered on some athletic turf they had available for practices and were going through warmups. No one had slept more than a few hours the past two nights and you could definitely tell. 

"I say mutiny, who's with me?" Goldberg put his hands on his back and let out a big breath. 

"Goldberg I'm too tired to mutiny," I joked and pulled my arm across my body to stretch it. 

Julie looked around at all of us, most of who were barely moving. "Come on guys, it's not like we couldn't use the conditioning."

Dean smiled at Julie and stepped closer to her. "Speak for yourself, babe."

I scoffed at his words and took a step closer to him, our chests almost touching. I had to crane my neck up to glare at him. "Her name is Julie, not babe."

"Don't tell me how to talk!" Dean reached out and shoved me. I stumbled but was able to regain my footing. Before I could push him back, everyone rushed in to break us up.

"Portman chill!" Fulton was holding Dean around the arm and Adam and Charlie were pushing him back. Connie and Julie both gingerly grabbed my shoulders, not to restrain me but to make sure I was okay. 

"You wanna piece of this?" Dean yelled at the boys holding him. I rolled my eyes. Somehow Coach thought I was the team disgrace.

"Yo, Team USA! What are you gonna do today, a million jumping jacks?" 

We all turned our attention to a short boy standing at the edge of the field. He was the same kid I had seen taunting Jesse during one of our games. 

Dean, however, was not phased. "This kid is crazier than me! Forget about him! Look Fulton-"

"Hey, chill!" Fulton shouted back. 

Jesse was no longer interested in the scuffle and started to march over to the kid. "Hey man, I'm getting sick of you!"

"I'm getting sick of the USA being representing by a bunch of whiny babies!" The kid fired back. Ouch.

Jesse scoffed. "Too bad you can't back up that mouth."

"Me and my boys can take you anytime, anywhere."

"I don't see no boys."

"I got 'em waiting." The boy smirked, clearly excited about this challenge. "Grab your gear and let's go play some schoolyard puck. Or maybe you forgot what it's like to play for real pride."

Before anyone could answer, a security guard came up and took the boy by the arm. "You got a pass?"

Clearly not having a pass, the guard began to lead him out of the fields. "Hey, get off of me! Come on you wimps, you coming or not?"

He disappeared behind the fence and we all glanced around at each other. I figured this would be more productive than standing around fighting and pretending to warm up.

"Let's go."

_

"We thought we'd call you all to see what you got."

We had all gathered our gear from our workout bags and met Russ and his "boys" at an old outdoor basketball court they had turned into a hockey rink. Our team stood across from them, as we all sized each other up.

"We know you can talk to the press and sign autographs," Russ said.

Luis shook his head beside me. "We can do a lot more than that."

"Yeah? We can teach you to play like the real Team U.S.A." Russ's brother smiled at us and looked around at his team, who were also all smiling. It was somehow very intimidating.