✔ SLAPSHOT ✖ irwin au

three

k a r r i s

✖

[a/n: any chunks of prose that are in italics in this chapter alone, are meant to represent flashbacks]

Mom was working late and couldn't pick me up right after school. Berkley had dance team rehearsal and instead of taking the bus back home, I decided to stick around to wait for her. Watching my best friend and the rest of the perfectly chiseled girls on the dance team twirl, leap, and bend their bodies to the beat of top-40 music was fun for the first five minutes. It was slightly uncomfortable because my own insecurities were heightened tenfold as my eyes scanned across the thin girls. I was in no way considered fat-- lacking muscular strength and tone yes, but witnessing the dance team's remarkable athleticism made me feel quite insecure about my own body. 

So I left. 

I sauntered out of the gym and across the path to a familiar building: the hockey arena. The second my foot stepped into the white linoleum floors, and my ears were graced with the sounds of banging hockey sticks to ice, I was instantly brought back the last time I was in this very same arena. 

"...Karris, sweetie, do you have everything?" mom asked, as we shuffled into the arena doors, the building packed with students, faculty, family and supporters of the opposing team. 

"Student ID, check," I raised my bright yellow Brampcrest school badge, "and Gabe's posters, check," I waved the neon green and pink posters I had made to cheer on my brother.

"Let's hurry, your dad is already waiting inside," mom informed, hastily making her way through the crowd and towards the bleachers...

The hockey team rounded the rink, zooming through the ice as they dribbled hockey pucks. In perfect view, number 15 stood in the center of the restrained chaos observing and scrutinizing every padded player. He held his hockey stick close to him as if it were some kind of magical staph. In his other hand, Ashton clutched onto his helmet by his thigh, his brown sweaty curls tousled messily atop his head. 

"Speed up fuckfaces! You're lagging! Tryouts are in two days and if some new fucker comes in with speed like Flash you're off the team!" Ashton dictated, a vain protruding from his neck as he angrily scowled at his fellow teammates. Instantly, the team clung onto Ashton's words, and as predicted they skated much faster. 

I went down the steps, inching closer and closer to the area behind the players bench. When my bum met the cool seat, I was once again taken back to an all too-familiar game. 

...All of Willowridge was on edge. It was overtime and we were losing at 1-2. Brampcrest was playing harder than ever, wearing out the Willowridge boys with no problem. The Championship game was a cringe worthy sight, as two of our best players were benched due to injury. I knew my school, Brampcrest was absolutely bloodthirsty for the shiny trophy, and Willowridge struggled to keep the prize in their clutch. 

A whistle was blown and a break was announced. Both teams skated to their respective areas-- Willowridge with heavy breaths, and heads hung low. I looked over to my brother Gabe, who looked so defeated, it seemed like he had lost all hope. I held up my pink poster as my brother's head lifted. 

"Potential Energy. Velocity. Kinetic Energy. 100%," my sign read.

Gabe stared at my poster for a moment before letting a grin form on his face. No one would understand the so-called gibberish that I had scribbled on my sign; no one but my twin. He looked at his tired, bleak teammates with more hope in his eyes than before. Gabe instigated a team huddle, a slew of words coming out of his mouth. Before I knew it, their hands met at the center of the circle, uniting them as a band of brothers...