Alaska | Adam Banks

og street hockey

CHAPTER TEN | OG STREET HOCKEY

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AFTER BEING TOLD that Ms. McKay had canceled our practice but we were still forced to condition and stuff, Team USA was all together stretching for our game later tonight. Coach Bombay hadn't showed up, but there was not really a surprise there. 

Almost the entirety of the team didn't talk to me at all, barely even sparing me a glance unless it was a glare or something like that. The fact that they were all beginning to become friends with me before they found out then just deciding to hate me over the smallest thing was annoying. 

The stretching that Charlie was leading was very painful, but it was necessary if I wanted my muscles to recover from the Iceland game. 

"I say mutiny. Who's with me?" Goldberg said at one point. 

"Goldberg, I'm too tired for mutiny," Dwayne responded, a little out of breath. 

"Come on, guys, it's not like we all couldn't use the conditioning," I spoke up for the first time since we arrived, surprising some. 

"Shut up, you traitor," Dean said loudly, glaring at me. "Why are you even still here?" 

I was about to say something back when Adam spoke for me. 

"Her name's Augustine, not traitor. And she's here because she was invited to be on this team."

"Don't tell me how to talk, rich boy!" Dean turned on him, pushing him harshly. 

"Hey! Don't touch him!" I told him, defending Adam. When Dean turned on me, I froze in fear for a moment, before glaring at him. 

He was about to push me as well when a pair of arms pulled me out of the way and into them. I looked up to see Adam as him, Charlie and Fulton started yelling at Dean. Since when did Fulton like me?

Their fighting was short lived, thankfully, when a random kid shouted at us from across the track. 

"Yo, Team USA, what are you gonna do today?" He asked sarcastically. "A million jumping jacks?"

Clearly the boy had pissed multiple people off because Dean and Jesse immediately started on him. 

"Hey, this kid's crazier than me! Fulton, look!" Dean is so fricken bipolar, I swear. 

"You know, I'm getting real sick of you," Jesse said, glaring daggers at the boy. 

"And I'm sick of Team USA being represented by a bunch of whiny babies." I couldn't help but agree with him. The entire team, with the exception of a few people, were whiny babies. 

"Yeah, too bad you can't back up that mouth!" Jesse called, practically fuming at the boy. 

"Oh, yeah? Me and my boys could mark you up anytime."

"Boys? I don't see no boys," Jesse sneered. 

"I got 'em waiting back at the courts- yo! Get your hands off me!" The kid was being pushed off the track by a security guard, interrupting his words to us. 

"So, you coming?"

* * * *

As it turned out, we ended up at the court, with the kid who's name turned out to be Russ, Jesse muttering curses every now and then. Seeing as I still didn't have roller blades, though I should probably get a pair, I sat on the bench watching, cheering my teammates on even if they wouldn't talk to me. 

Adam, at the beginning, didn't want to play, instead wanting to keep me company on the bench. I quickly pushed him off, telling him to go play with the team. At some points I could tell Adam's wrist was hurting him, seeing as whenever he would maneuver, he would wince. Even though he was in pain, he looked like he was having fun, which was all that mattered to both him and me.