With Me | Sequel to Be There ✔️

Starts With a 'W'

Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Ring! I let out a relieved sigh as I peel my eyes away from the clock above the door. I don't think I could've taken anymore school. I gather my belongings, shoving most of them into my backpack, and I hurry out of class.

I walk quickly back to my dorm room, since Dwayne and I agreed to meet each other out there twenty minutes after school. Unlocking the door, I slip inside, where I change out of my school clothes and into some athletic pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. Julie had packed her stuff into her bag, so she wouldn't have to stop back here, but I'm not that productive.

A knock sounds on the door, and I call to the visitor, "Come on in! It's unlocked!" The sound of someone entering and closing the wooden door echoes in the room as I pull my hair into a ponytail. I turn around, smiling at the face of my boyfriend. "Hey," I greet. "I'm almost done." I throw my skates into my sports bag and sling it over my shoulder. "Let's go!"

I step outside, and Dwayne closes the door behind us. He sticks his hands in his pockets as we exit the building, heading towards the rink. "The team is gonna meet us outside. They all wanna go in together," he tells me, eyes flicking down at me. I smile and nod, focusing ahead of us.

As we're walking, I get hungry stares from some perverted guys in the grades above us, and a few from the freshman class. The black shirt was new, so it hasn't stretched out yet, making it hug my body. I shift nervously as I feel their gazes on my chest, and Dwayne, seeming to notice, shrugs off his jacket and hands it to me. I gratefully pull my arms through it, and after, he grabs my hand, stopping the looks from the boys.

"Thanks," I whisper, and he squeezes my hand in response, flashing a small smile as well. What did I ever do to deserve him? Pushing the door open to the rink, Dwayne and I are greeted by the team, and we head towards the ice, led by Charlie.

Charlie pushes open the glass door, and the sight of the Varsity team practicing is right in front of us. Despite the fact that I currently despise the boys on the team, I have to say one thing: Damn! They are really good, like, really good. "Wow, this place is great," Charlie admires, while others chime in with whistles and agreements, the best by far (I'm not biased) being Dwayne's "Hot dog!"

But, right after I conclude that, Goldberg trumps them all with his statement. "I bet they even have a snack bar here." Only Goldberg, only Goldberg indeed.

"Big deal," Charlie responds, giving me look after I say, "But they look pretty good." I am an honest person, and I am telling you the truth. They are the Varsity team for a reason.

"They sure were a lot of champions," Dwayne notices, and I follow his gaze to the ceiling where it's covered with red banners, stating the years they won the championship.

"They're huge!" Averman observes, staring out at their practice.

Charlie shakes his head in denial. "They're not so hot," he answers, while Connie defends him with a "C'mon guys, we could skate out there." Sorry Connie, but I think your ponytail is too tight, because we would get creamed if we tried to skate with them.

We walk over to the stands as the three dimwits from the assembly huddle around the goal, whispering something to each other. The boy called "Reilly" glances up, and he winks at me, giving me a smirk. I roll my eyes, ignoring his pursuits.

Charlie steps out onto the ice, but the three Neanderthals skated over, Reilly grabbing his jersey. "Well, if it isn't Captain Duckie," he sneers, glaring at Charlie.

Fulton, expressionless, shoves him off. "Get your hands off him." I smile internally at the enforcer for sticking up for Charlie, like a Duck should do.