The Slap Shots

Chapter 2

"Emerson Beverly Main!" My father yells as I slam the door to our black SUV shut and start down my driveway. I pause at the end, looking from left to right deciding which way I want to go. There's a hill to my left and I hear screams coming from beyond it.

People.

"Please come back and help me unpack. Emerson!" He yells running after me. I check my back and start to jog up the hill.

Running from my father was never a usual habit of mine... until he told me that we were moving away and that I had to leave Toronto and all of my closest friends because a spot opened up at the local high school and that he needed to take it because it paid much more than his usual pay.

After that, I grew a hatred for my father. Whenever he asked me to do something for him I simply ignored him and ran.

I was lucky that I dressed in fluorescent pink gym shorts and my favourite basketball t-shirt from my old school and in my favourites Nike's this morning before leaving.

Running up this hill just got easier.

"I swear Emerson!" My father's distant shout rang in my ears but I managed to push it to the back of my brain and I ignored it.

I reach the top of the hill and pause, catching my breath.

At the bottom of the hill there's more houses and I can see the school a little over to my left.

What catches my eyes though, is the church in the very center of the neighbourhood.

It's old, a worn out jungle gym sitting on the far side of it.

It's red brick looks old and worn out like thousands and millions of people walked past them in the past.

The mosaic windows look beautiful in the warm sunlight glow of the afternoon.

The back door is open and held open by a huge white bucket. A tall, rather cute boy walks through the door a clip board at hand and a small blue book sticking out of his back pocket. His blonde hair is sticking straight up and his blue eyes shine in the sun.

I find myself slowly jogging down the hill making my way towards the church parking lot, where after peeling my eyes off of Golden Boy, is actually filled with around 15 boys all wearing roller blades, hockey sticks at hands.

They're all wearing the same t-shirt a rather pretty shade of mint blue. Some words are scribbled on the front but I cant make them out.

Two red hockey nets are placed on either side of the parking lot. One rather bulky looking guy stands in the one net covered from head to toe in pads. His stick is wider than the others and his helmet has a wider grid on the front.

I reach the bottom of the hill and slow down to a walk as I approach carefully the parking lot of boys.

As I get closer I notice that there are four guys who are standing over to the side, their hockey sticks poised under their hands.

I notice the long haired, tanned skin and dark eyed boy first. He looks extremely fit, with his t-shirt sleeves rolled up to his shoulders to make it look like a tank top.

I mean I'm not complaining. His arms are defined, more defined than any other boy I have ever seen.

The next boys I notice are the twins. They look identical from a distance. Brown hair that is pushed up in a slight quiff that then leans over to one side. They both have blue eyes and smiles that spread from ear to ear.