Truthbreaker (2) -Charlie Conway

A Little Help Goes A Long Way

Charlie Conway's POV

We were a little less than half way through the game, and let's just say, we were getting destroyed. We were falling left and right, being pushed around by the bigger, heavier, and stronger Iceland team who was winning 3-1. It was still the first period!

As much as I tried, and I mean, I really tried, I couldn't help but worry about Lyla the whole game. Sorry—let me re-frase. I couldn't help but worry about her shoulder, not so much her. I noticed gunner and a bunch of Iceland players going after specifically her and her shoulder, and it made my blood boil every time gunner knocked her down.

I also noticed that every time lyla would leave the bench, unknown Icelandic words would be shouted out by coach stansson, and I knew he was ordering his team to go after her.

"Coach..." I say, unsure if I should acknowledge the already fuming man. He was also no help, as he kept bombarding Lyla with complaints and rude words. He was on her about every little mistake and I could tell my team was getting annoyed by his behaviour.

"What, Charlie." He grumbled, not even sparing me a glance.

"Do you think somethings wrong with Lyla?" I ask, determined to inform him of what I heard. He only snorted in amusement.

"You mean how she's not even trying? Yeah, I do think somethings wrong with her. I think it's wrong how she's not benched yet." He grumbled as he watched the play, making my jaw clench with annoyance. How could he say something like that? I'm pretty sure she is in physical and emotional pain right now, and doesn't need nags from a grown man!

"How could you say that? It would be 3-0 if it wasn't for her, and I think her shoulders really bugging her!" I defended, making a weird knot tie in my stomach. Never in a million years would I ever imagine myself defending Lyla Mitchell, a girl I hated for as long as I can remember. It was a weird feeling.

"Oh, please. Save me the sappy details. And besides, don't you two despise each other? Worry about yourself and not her." Bombay says, making me even more annoyed. I'm mean sure we hated each other, but I have a right to worry about my teammates for the sake of the team. I hate to admit it, but Lyla is probably our best player, and if she gets hurt, we have no shot at winning. None.

A little into the second period I was on, and was skating behind Lyla, who had the puck and was entering Icelands zone. I quickly noticed a player on either side of her, attempting to squish her. Before I could yell out and warn her, she quickly ducked down and weaselled her way through the two gigantic Iceland players, making them knock into each other.

Cheers erupted in the stands as Lyla looked back forward, only to be winded by Sanderson. She was knocked over, almost doing a flip, and landed on her shoulder. I didn't have to be there to know that that hurt like hell.

Before I could even think, I was already on her side, grabbing ahold of her arm as she slowly staggered up. I quickly registered what happened, and tried to speak.

"Are you ok?" I say, making her sigh. She shook of my hand and skated away.

"I'm fine." She responded in a cold tone, making a shiver go up my spine. She seemed really sidetracked right now.

——*•+..+•*——

"Where's our concentration?" Bombay complained as we huddled in a group, waiting for the third period to start. Everyone was tired and dazed, but as I stole a couple glances at Lyla, I could tell she was feeling the worse out of all of us.

Sweat dripped down her red face as she struggled to catch her breath, seemingly wrapped up in her own mind. She was so Un concentrated and sidetracked that she hadn't even noticed Bombay prodding her for the seventh time.