~KIMBERLY'S POV~

To say Herb is pissed would be an understatement. A huge one in fact. Wordlessly, he points on a wooden chair and as soon as I sit down, he starts pacing back and forth through the small office. When he finally turns to face me, my blood freezes: "Care to explain what happened?"

"Coach, he said I have nothing to do here and called me weak, it's his fault."
"I know this is hockey and I know it has not been easy for you. But going after your teammates..."
"Possible teammates," I interrupt and immediately regret that decision when Herb leans his head to the side. He taps his fingertips together as he continues looking at me with no words. That makes me even more nervous and I start babbling: "I-I am sorry, uh, that...uhm, it just slipped out of my mouth and I...shouldn't uh have done that. It's just, I really don't want to go home and uh, um..."
"You are on a good way to return to Brown, I hope you realize that. And I am warning you for the last time. If anything like that happens again... you will not see the Olympics."

"Yes, coach, I am sorry," I look down, my hands resting on my lap while my head is occupied with thoughts how screwed I am right now.

"I hope you did not expect me to make things easier for you because you are a girl. You wanna make men's team, then you better learn to deal with them."
"Understood, coach."
As I get a feeling there is nothing left he has to say to me, I stand up and turn around to leave the office when his voice interrupts.

"I am not sending you home just yet, but you are not allowed to practice with us for a week. I will talk to coach Patrick to take over coaching you, but I do not want to see you on the ice with the rest of the guys."
In that moment I realize he won't hesitate a second to send me back home if anything happens again. That means I will have to contain myself until the final roster is announced...

"Coach....can you do that?"
"I can do whatever the hell I want and if I want to separate you from the rest of the team, I can do it. Any questions?"
"No, coach, no questions," I say quietly while slowly backing out of the room. As soon as the door to the office close, I feel the adrenaline rush decreasing which makes my legs weak in knees and I have a feeling like I am about to throw up. How is that possible? I know I am not the nicest person around, I have my flaws, but I have never, and I mean never, not even in my craziest moments, talk back to the coach like that. I have never interrupted his talking to be a smart ass. And certainly, I have not been on a verge of being thrown out of the team. Guess it's time to change the way I play the game and adapt to the rules, at least for a bit.

~ JACK'S POV~

Coach Brooks comes back for the last thirty minutes of the practices, but the Brown girl doesn't come back. That triggers a wave of quiet murmuring and questions what happened to her.

"Coach, where is Kim?" McClanahan asks and I roll my eyes. It's pathetic how much they care for her, all of the Minnesotans are the same.

"None of your concern, McClanahan. If I hear one more question about that or anything unrelated to practice, you will have to skate sprints again."

That shuts McClanahan and the rest of us down until the practice ends. Even in the locker room the debate doesn't spread however, we discuss the possibilities in smaller groups. I look over at Coxy, Silky, Rizzo and Jimmy exchanging quiet questioning glances. Even though I don't like her or the idea of any girl being in our locker room, I am curious what happened to her behind the closed door. I wait for fellow Bostonians to change and we leave the locker room with quiet "see you later"s. As soon as we are out of the complex, Silky asks: "What do you guys think happened to her? I spoke to Rob and he said she could had been sent home."
"McClanahan, right? Yeah, I remember he said he had played for Brooks for four years."
"And few other guys from the U said the same thing. There is a possibility Herb sent her home."
"What 'bout you, OC? What do you think?"

I shrug my shoulders: "Dunno. I hope she finally got what she deserves and Herb really sent her home..."

"Come on, OC, can't you admit she can play? She outplayed almost all of us, the two guys better than here were Johnson and Pavelich," Rizzo sighs. Silky and Coxy quietly murmur something that sounds like words of agreement, while Jimmy, our nice guy, ruffles his hair: "Rizzo, she is a great player, there is no denying, but she is still a girl."

"Finally someone with some sense."
"And this has nothing to do with her telling you to get lost on the first day of the tryouts?"

"Absolutely nothing."

As we head towards the dorms, someone calls me. I turn around to see Delich running after us. Even from the distance, bloody trace on his face is clearly visible and there is a round bruise right under his eye.

"Wow, Dave, she got you well."

"That bitch is going to pay for that, who does she think she is? Anyway, OC, I wanted to tell you, I am with you. About she being here, I mean."
I smile at bloody-nosed Minnesotan: "Finally someone with some sense."
"Few of the guys back there are backing you up as well. I heard them talk about how men's team should only consist of men, not some chick, trying to be one of us."
I look at Rizzo victoriously: "See? I am not the only one."

Rizzo sighs and looks at other three guys: "What do you think of that?"

"Well, uh, this is men's team and she is a girl, but she is a great puck-handler and she must have proved something to be here," Silky stutters out and looks at Coxy, who looks towards the ice hall of the University of Minnesota before saying slowly: "She is a good player, I give her that- No, Jack, you have to admit the girl has skills- but I don't think she belongs here."

"I admit she has skills, but she robbed one of the guys of the opportunity to maybe make it to the wider roster for the Olympics. Now we are stuck with her."
"Oh, guys, that will make your day. I heard coach Brooks telling coach Patrick to have individual practices with her. When coach Patrick asked why, Brooks replied because he doesn't want her practicing with us," Delich smirks and nudges my arm. As soon as my brain processes this information, my face lights up: "She might be going home soon. Thanks, Dave, you just made my day better."

"I thought that would make your days better. Anyway, see you later, guys. Do you have any plans?"

Other Bostonians nod, but I shake my head. My only plan was to lay in bed, grab one of the books I brought and a can of beer from a six pack, which Jack and I smuggled into our room on our first day at the U.

"What are you guys up to?"

"I just really need a nap, I am getting old," Rizzo jokes and makes the rest of us smirk. He joked about his age a lot even back in Colorado at the tryouts along with Schneider, but now he hasn't used any of those jokes in a long time. And he does look tired a bit.

"I promised mom I'd call her after the first week," Silky blushes a bit.

"Awww, little baby has to call his mommy to tell her he has survived big bad Olympic team. Well, first week," Rizzo ruffles Silk's hair while Coxy pokes his cheeks: "Is little Silky scared of being away from home for so long? Poor, poor little Silky."

Silky glares at both at them and then at Dave and I as we don't even try to cover up our stomach-hurting laughter. Dave even bends over as he chokes from laughter. I pat his back and try to put on serious face again.

"Say hi to your mom in my name and tell her I miss her pies."
"Whoa, OC, you are quite familiar with Silky's mom. Something we should know?" Coxy wiggles his brows and nudges Rizzo. Sometimes I wonder how old are we and what am I doing with those morons.

"Oh, yes, how come I never mentioned that? I am becoming Silky's step dad real soon. His mom couldn't resist me."
"Okay, guys, grow up," Silky mumbles, his face as red as a tomato. It has been so long since we picked on Silky and I nearly forgot how red he can get.

"Don't tell your mommy bad teammates teased you, okay?"

"You guys are really funny."

I sling my arm around his shoulder: "Come on, David Mark Silk, we are joking."

"You better be. Assholes," he looks down, his cheeks still red. Grinning, I playfully punch him in a stomach with the other hand and remove my arm from around his shoulders.

"What about you, Coxy, you have to call your mommy too?"

Ralph, still chuckling slightly, shakes his head: "No. I will relax for a bit, just to be ready for whatever Herb has in store for us tomorrow."
"You three are party-breakers. So, I guess it's just the two of us, Dave."
"Guys in the locker room recommended some great spots for a hangout after games or in our case, practices. And they also said girls are really nice," he smirks, making my grin grow wider. He has just made my day a bit better.

"What if we save bars for later and just grab some lunch for now?"

"Sounds good. See ya later, guys," Dave waves before we leave. Even though he is from Minnesota, I don't remember seeing him on the games against Gophers or Bulldogs...
"You are from Minnesota, right?"
"Yeah, but I studied at and played for Colorado College. Their development program seemed really cool and I had great time. And you are a proud Bostonian?"
"Born and raised to be a Terrier."
"Ya know, nearly the entire NCAA knows you for your fighting ability."

"I know. I grew up in Charlestown and left the place with many scars even before I started fighting other players."
"What happened?"
"Well, growing up in Charlestown wasn't a child's play. Let's just say if things had gone wrong while I was growing up, I could be dead by now. Or unhappily married with kids I would not even like to raise. There were, and still are, some serious alcohol and drug abuses..."
"Sorry to dig into your childhood like that..."
"No, it's okay. I am here now, fresh off the college, playing hockey and maybe going to the Olympics."

"But we are not even halfway at the Olympics, we still have a long way to go."
I glance over at him and quietly admit: "Yes, we do."

~KIMBERLY'S POV~

What was I thinking? Why did I punch Delich in the face, that was exactly the reaction he was looking for! How could I be so stupid!?

With a frustrated sigh I fall face-first on my bed and yell into a mattress. If this is going to send me home...no, wait, it wouldn't be fair. Most of the guys got into a brawl tonight while I just punched one of them in a face.

A knock interrupts me from my thoughts and I pull myself up. When I open the door, a friendly-looking brunette stands on my doorstand. I lift my brow and lean on the door frame: "Yes?"

"You are Kimberly Mayfield, right? The only girl who has ever made it into men's national team?"

"Uh, yeah, that's me. Is there something wrong?"

"No, not at all. I am Irene Baker, younger sister of Bill Baker."
"Oh, one of the guys from the U. Uh, come on in, don't stand in the middle of the hall."
"Oh, no, it's okay. I was wondering if you would like to join us? I thought maybe you are missing some, ya know, girls company..."
"That's really kind of you, Irene. But I think I will have to pass today, lots of things happened and I am kinda tired..."
"No problem, I understand. After all, my brother is a hockey player too. Here's my room number and I also wrote down when we usually hang out, so if you ever feel like hanging out when you are here... just knock on the door and if I am in my room, I will be more than glad to hang out with you."
I offer her wide smile: "Thank you so much. The longer I am staying here, the more I believe I will need some girl company."

"You are a hero for actually being able to get along with them."

The smile on my face turns a bit sour and forced, but she doesn't seem to notice. Good, because I am sure her brother is one of the guys who is against the idea of possibly having a girl as a teammate.

"Yeah, lucky me. Uh, Irene, do you mind if I visit you later or maybe tomorrow? I have something to do..."
"Sure, no problem. I guess I shouldn't have knocked like that," she grins, revealing two perfectly straight lines of teeth.

"Oh, no, it's okay. It's just, I was just about to call my parents to let them know how am I doing."
"Sure thing, no problem. So, I guess I will see ya around?"
"That's for sure. Thanks again for invitation."

"No problem," she smiles for the last time before strolling down the hall and disappearing into what appears to be her room. I close the door and hurry to the phone in my room. Instead of calling my parents, I call Ali. She answers after the fifth ring, just before I put the phone down.

"Yeeeees?" she slurs. Oh, great, she is drunk.

"Hey, Ali, it's me. Kimberly, your best friend?"
"Oh, K-immy," she giggles and I am really close to cancelling this call. Ali normally doesn't drink, but when she does...this happens.

"Yeah, listen, just checking how's everything back at the University."

"Lo, it's Kimmy!" her drunken yelling makes me realize she doesn't really care what is my purpose for calling her. After what sounds like a bit of roughing, sober voice speaks up instead of drunk Ali: "Kim, is this really you?"
"Lauren? Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, don't worry. Oh, my god."

I hear loud hollering in the background and disgusted "ewwww" which makes me believe someone, possibly Ali, threw up.
"It's barely afternoon, what is going on?"
"Well, Alice here recently got elected for the captain of the team and that's how we celebrate."

Ali became a captain? How? When?

"Ali is a captain?"

"Yeah. What about you?"

She sounds so sad. I know she wanted to be the captain so bad, even though she never said that out loud. I don't know why coach O didn't pick her. Out of all girls I know, she is the most capable one. And responsible.

"Well..."

I start telling her about my punishment, but I keep the troubles I have with one specific Boston player for myself. After I finish telling her everything that had happened in the last few weeks, she sighs: "Kim, get your shit together. Don't fuck up this chance you had been given. Many of us would kill to be in your place and you get into a fight? Please, don't do this. Suck it up and play by their rules."

Unintentionally, I ruffle my hair and sigh: "I wish I could do that, but those guys are...they don't seem to accept me. I wish I never got here..."
"Shut up with this bullshit and listen to me. This is your chance to prove yourself. Stop whining, stop getting into senseless fights and just play your game by their rules. You are still one of the best players I know, don't forget that."

Even though she scolds me through the phone, it seems like she is right next to me and that brings tears to my eyes. I choke out: "Lo, thank you so much. I will stop acting like that and I will not let anything get in my way, I promise. When you will next see me, I will have my Olympic gold."
"That's the spirit. Show them who Kimberly Mayfield really is. And don't forget us."
"I won't. and you keep an eye on Ali for me, okay? Oh, and Lauren? I am sorry you didn't become a captain, you deserved it."
"Thanks, Kim. I appreciate. Don't worry, Ali is in good hands."
After short goodbyes, the line is dead. But this conversation inspired me more than I could've ever imagined. Lauren is right, I must not let them get the worst out of me.