✔ SLAPSHOT ✖ irwin au

five.

k a r r i s

✖

I didn't think I would get yelled at.

A few snarky remarks yes, but to sit quietly on a cushioned chair in Coach Benson's office while thunderous roars brimming with profanities filled my virgin ears was something I wasn't expecting. The funny part about all of this, was that Coach Benson didn't open his mouth. It was number 15, team captain, Ashton Irwin who did all the snappy lip. 

"You are a two faced little shit you know that?" Ashton yelled, his anger reverberating off of the walls with such intensity I swore the awards were rattling. 

"Ashton, calm down," Coach Benson cooed, lifting his head up from a small, thick handbook in his hands. 

"Calm down? How the fuck do you possibly expect me to calm down Coach?" Ashton slammed his hands agains the oak desk, causing me to jump in my skin. "This nerd," he paused gesturing at me, "has deceived the shit out of us! She came into our hallowed ground and tainted the ice with her, her... ew." 

"I think you're overreacting captain," Coach disclosed unexpectedly and Ashton's jaw dropped. He dramatically threw a hand to his chest and mocked a heart attack.

"I am not overreacting! She can't come into this place and destroy the traditions our forefathers have left on the ice," Ashton could be quite theatrical and his voice was dripping with exasperation.

"What traditions? Beer pong on the ice?" Coach suggested, looking back down at the book. "Irwin, you're being a drama queen."

"Am not!" Ashton argued, a childish tone in his voice.

"I'm sorry," I softly spoke, their eyes landed back on me. "I didn't mean to taint any ice or traditions or be disrespectful to this sport. I just wanted to try out for the team." 

"But you're a girl!" Ashton exclaimed, disgust in his expression. "Girls don't play hockey. This is a man's sport and even though you kinda look like a dude, you still can't play with us. You weren't even that good." 

"I beg to differ--" 

"Oh here she goes again with all this begging to differ horseshit," Ashton interrupted, rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

"I also beg to differ. Miss Villanueva is quite an impressive hockey player," Coach Benson proudly complemented. 

"What?" Ashton scoffed. "Who put douche water in your Red Bull?"

Coach looked at number 15 with a stink eye, "her slapshot was the fastest I've ever seen. Even faster than yours Ashton!" 

Ashton's scowl morphed into a smooth line, grumbling profanities under his breath. It almost sounded like he was speaking in french.

"I said some things in the past that I really regret Karris and I'm sorry," Coach apologized. "You've proven to me that you can play and that you do know plenty about this sport. I hope you can forgive me." 

I smiled, "I forgive you Coach. I just really want to be on the team."

"Hell to the fucking no," Ashton shook his head, crossing his arms across his chest. 

I shifted my attention from the angry, dimpled team captain to Coach Benson and looked at him with hope in my eyes. Coach had the last say and surely he'd have me on the team. Right?

"Karris," Coach sighed, and I slumped in my seat. 

This was going to be bad news, I could tell. He was giving me the same look; the same damn sigh that only comes with news you don't want to hear. I got it whenever my parents were going to ground me. I got it whenever teachers were disappointed in my work. And I got it when we found out my brother's murderer would walk away.