I'm a Hawks' Kid

Five

I stood on the ice, McGill was at face off with three boys, whom he called the Oreo line, even though that is not nice to say, he said it anyway. It did bother me when he said that because he just can't go and say something like that to people, we're not in the 50s or what ever anymore, it's the 90s now. Two of the boys backed away, not really knowing where to place by the looks of it, while the first boy, who wore a Montreal Canadians jersey as his team shirt and wrote 'D-5' on it, stood at face off against McGill.

All I knew is that this boy was going to die, along with his team. I have to stop worrying so much, so I did as the ref dropped the puck and McGill gently pushed it to his left towards Larson, while I was on the right side of him. We always go to the left side so the right side can go help if needed. Larson went up the ice, not even looking at me but I looked at him so if he were to pass the puck, then I'd be ready.

Larson and I right now have our differences. Coach doesn't know what happened between he and I, and he won't know. Plus, some of the guys had made a point between us and said that neither of us will talk to one another or anything until further notice so nothing like this happens ever happens again.

Larson keeps going, Banks, McGill and King all down the ice already waiting to receive the puck. I in the mean time just gently knocked over some of the other players, because my dad is watching and he doesn't like when I'm rough, even though this is a physical sport. I deked a couple of them and continued as the others deked the other team, and knocked them into the boards or to the ground.

As I was watching because I couldn't do much, Larson had passed the puck to Adam and he rounded the net as the other two, McGill and Larson, squished a kid between the two of them and he fell on the ground. Adam rounded the net still as the goalie attempted to stop the puck, but immediately fell. He didn't bother to get off the ground, he just  laid there as Adam put the puck gently in the net.

I kinda laughed to myself at how nicely and easily Adam put the puck in the net. It was super fast and indeed funny to watch. Soon the other tem had came down the ice with the puck, but I easily took it away from them and made a run for it, well I skated quickly away. I have speed, so when the other players tried getting me, falling and sliding, or taking the puck away, I deked them swiftly and spun around playing around as I went right up to the net, tricked the goalie and then scored. Making it two nothing now.

Everyone on my team came together and cheered, even Larson, though, he never made contact with me, or smiled. He cheered barely above a whisper, but Coach doesn't know that. And once again, the other team came up with the puck. The game went by so quickly, it scared me a little because it has never gone by quickly before. The time for each period is the same, but when we play this team, the time goes by fast and we just look better.

We're at fifteen points now and the other team is at nothing still. The players on the team looked dead tired. They had small scrawny players, not many muscular ones, in fact, they maybe had four muscular ones and that was it. I saw their names on their jerseys. One was Conway, Hall, Averman and then Germain, who wore the Montreal Canadians jersey. The other team just seemed like they had enough, like they just wanted to quit. They were getting bashed into boards, falling on the ground, not doing well, and well, I've never really took so much attention in a team. But this is a first and I am not sure if it's because of the team or the person who's coaching it.

I do worry about what my father thinks about me, because I want to be like him, so I have to be smart like him and make good moves and not bad ones. The game sadly ended and my team headed off the ice after we cheered our cheer loudly. The other team just sat on their bench as my father, their coach, talked and raised his voice at them.

I sat in the locker room, everyone was talking and summing up how the game went. Even Larson spoke with the others, but I stayed quiet until I met my father outside. And since I do get undressed pretty quickly, I'm sure I could either go into the other locker room and see him or go hop onto the limo and wait until his day is finished.

Coach walked into the room as everyone was changing out of their gear. None of us take showers or anything, we're to young and don't work enough to deserve them anyway, plus we got no time as it is. I was standing up when Coach walked around, "Good game everybody. You guys did great!" He was proud of us, we only won by seventeen points and I'm sure that in an hour and a little, we could've made more than seventeen points. Do you not see in basketball? They make a ton of points.

Everyone cheered. I stayed quiet, with some of the guys staring at me. And not just because I was a girl who was getting undressed, well taking her gear off, in front of them. It was because of my eye, I just assume. Coach then noticed where everyone else was looking. He sighs, "Schaffer, what'd you do now?"

I see Larson glancing over towards the two of us. I could never get him in trouble or put him on the spot. Sure I can be mean and nice, but at a time like this, it's best to keep it to a minimum. I shrug my shoulders as I look up at him, my elbow pads on the floor below me and I'm kicking them gently around as I do. "I got a puck to the face. Guess that's what happens when you don't wear a helmet, right?"

Coach kinda nods, not really seeming too convinced at the moment. "All right then. But I hope that doesn't affect how you play, will it?" I was about to say something when he started talking again, "Because your eye is pretty swollen, bruised and scraped." I nod.

"I can see fine." He nods and finally leaves the room and going into the hallway. I bend down, touching my toes to stretch a little, since I do this every now and then. As I am bending down, I un do the tape from hockey socks, take those off and then take my shin pads off. My skates, helmet, jersey, shoulder pads and mouth guard were all ready in my bag packed up.

Once I finished getting dressed, my boots were on since it's kinda chilly out. I put my bag on my shoulder and walked out of the locker room. I had my hat on and my scarf, but I decided to zip up my jacket as I was walking down the hall, which wasn't a good idea because I ran into someone and we both fell on the ground.  "Gee, I'm terribly sorry. Are you all right?" I ask, sitting up against the wall to regain my posture and regain myself as well.

The person laughs. The person appeared to be a young boy. He had just came out of the locker that was like a foot and a half away from where we are now. I looked at him closer, he was the boy who took a shot at our net and completely missed the puck, and running into the boards where Banks pushed him into the boards harder and Coached cheered him on for that.

"I'm fine, you?" He still hadn't looked up at me, but when he did I was too late to answer. Some of the other players looked at me and the boy. They acknowledged the boy and not me, which was fine by me. I am on the opposing enemy team, which they hate probably the most in the league.

"What're you doing talking to a Hawk?" A boy, who I had first seen on the ice when McGill commented something. I assume they could tell I was a Hawk, not just because I wasn't on their team, but my jacket was a black one, blue collar, no hood, and said hawks on the top left corner.

Before the boy, who I had ran into, could speak up, another boy spoke up. "What happened to your face?"

"I'd ask what went wrong with your face, too, but I think everyone knows the reason behind it," I reply and grab my bag. I continue down the hall and hear my father walking out of the room behind some of the boys, asking them who they were talking to. They described me as an uptight, brat who was a Hawk with no manners. I guess my father could've guessed who it was, but he probably didn't.

I walked outside, across the parking lot and then got to the limo where the driver had gladly taken my stuff and put it in the trunk. I in the meantime went around the car and hopped in the limo. No one saw me and if they did, then who cares, they're gonna find out who I am sooner or later. I sat in the limo, with nothing to do other than being completely bored and wanting to fall asleep.