Truthbreaker (2) -Charlie Conway

Iceland vs USA

Lyla Mitchell's POV

"Live from Los Angeles welcome to the junior goodwill games!" I hear Averman commentate as we are doing our warm ups. I skated around the net with my stick wrapped around my shoulder and my hands holding onto each side. I was breathing harder than any of my other games, and I was breaking out in a nervous sweat. I was a mess.

"Tonight's matchup, team USA faces off against team Iceland!"

"Cakewalk."

"We have with us Greg Goldberg, goaltending for team USA." Averman says as I skated past the two players.

"Greg, what is it gonna take to beat these feisty Icelanders tonight?" Averman asked Goldberg as we were called to the bench.

"I think it'll take a supreme individual effort by me, Greg Goldberg." Goldberg says with a cocky voice, making me snort as I skate by.

"Oh- Lyla, thoughts?" Averman says to me, holding his hand out to my face like a microphone. I just ignored him and skated away, trying to calm my nerves.

"Ok then, no comment." Averman says.

——*•+..+•*——

We were huddled around each other, positively bustling with excitement and jitters. I know for a fact that I was the most nervous and side tracked person out on the ice right now, and I felt like all eyes were on me. I looked around nervously, taking in all the bright lights, giving me a headache, and the elevated fans, also giving me a head ache.

My eyes darted back and forth, till they landed on certain stern eyes.

Gunner was staring at me as Iceland were huddled to, and I swear I saw him smirk. I knew this game was going to be awkward and full of pain, but his brown eyes made me squirm with terror. I didn't even realize that we started cheering, and Adam had to nudge my side to get me back on track. I hastily raised my hands with everyone else, trying to act normal.

I knew I couldn't, though.

I took face off, and I swear that my legs would buckle under my sweat and pressure any second now. I was shaking all over as I got into my ready stance, looking up hesitantly as I met eyes with gunner.

His demeanour was as stern as his eyes, making me 10 times more nervous. I awkwardly chuckled.

"Fancy seeing you here." I say, attempting to make small talk as the game was soon to commence. I was met with a harsh stare, and Icelandic words I didn't understand. My smile dropped as I cleared my throat, just wanting to start this shit show.

The puck was dropped, and i immediately felt a hard object connect to my shoulder. I buckled in pain, holding my shoulder as I fell to the ground, feeling annoyed by his sudden change in his personality. What was up?

Before I could punch back, dean rammed into gunner, making him fall to the ground hard as I got back up. Served him right.

Apparently, slashing someone in the arm was allowed, but not pushing someone down, because the ref came up behind Dean, blowing his whistle, signalling for a penalty. We just started the game!

Dean was too busy mocking the boy on the ground to notice the ref, and accidentally knocked down the ref, making me groan with annoyance. The ref seemed annoyed too, because he kicked him out of the game shortly after.

I was stunned. On top of everything going wrong with my life, we now lost one of our most important players to an immensely gigantic team. Why did Dean have to be so unaware of his surroundings?

Dean was pretty pissed as he was taken off the ice, along with angry yells from coach and the stands. Now our chances were even more slim. This was not good.