AAOOOSC! Wheatie Bits!

E. 8. "The Game of Juniors" (6/8)

The second period commences with yet another goal by the team bearing red, white, and blue.

From the bench, Kailer flies up to his blades, pumping his gloved fists and stick in the air. "YES, YES, YES!!! Three to two! We see, we take, we CONQUER!" He holds his gloved fist out to fist-bump his passing teammates. "Atta, boys!"

"USA, USA!" Jake chants back happily as he gives fist-bumps to the same teammates.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the glass, the Canadian bench is exhibiting the opposite mood.

"I hate this," Brett spits out, scowling at the ice. "I hate this score. I hate this game. I hate it."

"We still got time," Kale points out in a comforting tone. "We got more than half the game to come back. It's just by one point."

Brett whirls around to him with shock. "They scored right away! This is—" He throws his head back in frustration. "UGH!" He lands back in his slouching position and continues fuming.

"Keep calm—" Kale pats his padded shoulder with his gloved hand. "—we got this."

"Yeah, Hartsy better get it too." Brett throws a glare at the Canadian net.

Carter is sweeping the blade of his stick across the crease, nonchalantly swiping the ice chunks away from it.

The game commences and a few minutes later, Canada gets a penalty.

The lines change and Brett, who was on the ice, climbs back in. "Let's go for the penalty kill," he remarks with resolve.

Kale stands up as the forward sits down. "Even better— short-handed goal." He looks down at him. "I'm gonna see if I can get one."

Brett peers up at him with pleading in his eyes. "Please do."

Kale then slips over the boards and skates down to the face-off circle.

Brett silently watches the game, clutching onto his stick vertically in front of him with two hands. He has steady eyes on the action, anticipating a goal or no goal for the Americans.

Kale climbs back into the bench and settles next to him. "I got a shot on goal."

Brett turns to him. "Better than nothing. Not a point though."

"Well, let's see you score then." He nods at him. "You haven't even gotten a shot on goal. I already have two."

Brett gives him an arrogant smirk. "Watch me." With that, he stands up and launches over the boards and onto the ice.

From the American bench, Jake's eyes light up at the sight of Brett speeding across the ice.

"Brett!" he shouts at him.

Brett continues chasing after the runaway puck.

Jake furrows his eyebrows in confusion at his response. "Can Brett hear me?" He begins rising to his blades. "I gotta say hi to him and—"

"No!" A hand grabs Jake's arm and leads him back to his stool.

Jake whirls to his left in surprise, spotting Kailer with his hand on his arm.

"Sit still for once, please!" the small skater commands sharply. "You're going to give us a penalty for too many men on the ice!"

Jake places his free hand on his chest. "But I'm a goalie."

Kailer lets out an irritated groan and lifts his eyes up at him. "Of course you are."

From the ice, Brett glides away from the action and climbs over the boards and in the Canadian bench.