k a r r i s

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I was hoping for a fresh start. After being humiliated in front of the hockey team after Tegan's propagandist rampage, I was praying that things would go more smooth during practice. Everything seemed good, as the team had possibly forgotten all about Tegan's speech. As I passed by Michael or Luke during passing periods, they'd simply smile and wave at me. Calum sent me a funny text about our teacher, and even though he was King of Doucheland, Ashton ignored my presence-- which was better than getting tormented by the dimpled captain.

I stood in front of my gym locker with the dance team at theirs. As I changed into some athletic wear, I updated Berkeley with the previous evening's events. I made sure to keep it at a whisper because I knew that Tegan's locker was only in the next aisle.

"I really hope taking this apprenticeship works out. I hope I didn't make a stupid mistake because I was pissed that I couldn't be on the actual team," I expressed, pulling out my hair brush and running it through my long, dark locks. 

"I think you'll be fine," Berkley told me, putting her thick hair into a bun at the top of her head. "It's only Ash that dislikes you; you still have the rest of the team on your side, including Calum. You guys are practically best friends."

"Which is all we'll ever be," I grumbled, plopping down on the bench. I grabbed my skates and one by one I slipped them onto my feet. "I'm not you Berkeley, or like most of the girls at this school for that matter. Brampcrest harbors females with unibrows and an inept social life. This school might as well teach Victoria Secret models."

"Are you trying to put yourself down again?" Berkley sighed. She threw her hands to her hips and I could see the Mexican flavor exude from every inch of her tanned skin. "Amiga, you are gorgeous whether you see it or not. Who cares if you don't look like the other girls here? You got an ass girl, work it."

"Best, if you haven't noticed, I don't really know how to work anything except a Ti-73 calculator," my fingers grasped onto the laces of my skates as I awkwardly gazed up at her, my glasses slowly dripping down the bridge of my nose.

"I don't even know what that is," Berkeley disclosed. She seized a bottle of her signature citrus smelling lotion and lathered it up on her legs.

"Oh, it's one of the best calculators my phalanges have ever touched," I sighed in mesmerization; the simple thought of having my hands around such a wonderful device made me tingle inside.

"You're so nerdy it hurts," Berkeley chuckled, "but I love you... Also, do you need a ride after practice today? I drove myself to school so I have the car."

"That'd be great," I smiled, standing up from the bench and grabbing my coaching jacket from my locker, "thanks. I'll text you when I'm done."

"Sounds good. I'm gonna head to the dance studio now. I'll see you later," she bid me a goodbye, slamming her locker shut and walked out of the locker room with the rest of the dance team.

After making sure I had all my coaching essentials that Coach Benson had given to me-- whistle, play book, confidence-- I made my way to the ice. The moment I stepped out into the hall, the sound of slapping sticks to ice reverberated against the walls. From the tunnel, I caught glimpse of the team skating circles and passing pucks around the ice. The moment I stepped up next to Coach Benson, he looked down at me with a smile.

"Hi Coach, how are you?" He asked, his gaze drifting back to the players on the ice.

"I'm well," I told him. "What's the plan for practice?"

"Scrimmage. Gotta figure out what this team is all about; find the strongest and weakest areas of each player," he explained. He looked down at the watch on his wrist before grabbing the whistle that hung from a lanyard around his neck. His lips grazed the silver gadget but instead of blowing, he dropped it. "Karris?"

"Yea Coach?"

"Want to do the honors?" He gestured for identical the whistle that hung from my neck.

I grinned, nodding my head excitedly. I pressed the whistle up the my lips, took a deep breath in and as I blew, the screeching ring echoed throughout the arena. Every player on the ice immediately ceased their movements, their heads snapping towards the sound.

"Everyone line up! Shoulder to shoulder!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. The team easily listened to my words, skating to the center of the rink and lining up. Ashton however just scowled.

"Irwin! Did you not hear Coach Karris? Line up!" Coach Benson demanded, earning a sassy eye roll from Ashton. Nevertheless, he did what he was told.

As Coach explained to the team what the next few weeks will comprise of, Ashton's scowl never disappeared from his face. He kept gawking at me with furrowed brows and a disgusted expression that any confidence I had went down the drain. I kept telling myself that the rest of the team liked me so it shouldn't matter if one person didn't. But those were just words in attempt to ebb the chaos cycling in my mind-- Ashton hating me did matter. It was because he was such a powerful figure on the team and on the Willowridge campus that it scared me. Ashton could potentially influence the student body to hate me too and that would, for lack of a better word, really suck!

As practice went on, I sat on the sidelines observing the team. I took notes for Coach Benson, writing down each member's weakness and strengths. If it wasn't obvious enough already, Ashton was clearly the star of the team, followed by Luke, and not to be biased but Calum was pretty damn amazing himself. The others on the team had their shining moments too and I was excited to help shape them into Championship winning power machines.

Then there was Michael.

"Irwin! What the hell are you doing?" Coach Benson bellowed as Ashton skated around the ice with his head down. It looked like he was searching for something the way he would trail his eyes randomly. He even took the liberty to lift up Luke's arm to mock-search for whatever the heck it was he was looking for.

"I'm looking for a pair of balls because Clifford seems to have lost them!" Ashton retorted and a few chuckles escaped from the team.

"Dude! I'm sorry I'm not up to your standards but I don't suck that much!" Michael defended himself and I smiled that he was able to stand up to his hot-headed Captain.

"A fucking spoon of Vegemite could do better than your weak skills!" Ashton skated up to Michael and pulled off his helmet. Michael did the same and I stared intently as the teammates glared at each other with deadly stares. "Is it really that frigging hard to do a simple backwards C-cut? We could bench you all season and you'd probably still suck at sitting on your ass!"

"Fuck you Ashton!" Michael yelled, giving him a shove. The dimpled Captain licked his lips and shot him a smirk that was dripping in ire.

"Don't touch me bro," Ashton sneered and pushed Michael back.

My eyes widened as I knew what was going to happen. I looked to the other teammates and they stood watching, even creating more space for the imminent brawl. My eyes landed on Coach Benson hoping he'd do something but he simply shook his head in disapproval, not moving an inch.

"Uh Coach? Are you gonna stop them from fighting?" I asked him. I could feel the tension inside of me rise and I was anxious for it to be stopped.

"Three seconds Karris," Coach simply answered. "I give them three seconds to let it all out."

Three seconds may not be much but with the amount of anger bottled up inside of Ashton at the moment, he could pummel Michael to the ice and murder him-- and I was not going to sit around and watch that happen. So I got up off of the bench and tossed my notebook aside. I skated onto the ice and literally wedged my small body in between the two heated boys.

"Guys! Fighting is not the answer!" I yelled, using my wimpy arms to pathetically push them apart.

"Out of the way Coach," Michael dictated through gritted teeth, his eyes piercing through Ashton's.

"Uh no, I don't think so. Captain, I think you should go off to the side and cool off," I bravely lifted my eyes to meet Ashton's hazel ones and his gaze felt like razor blades to fresh skin. "Uh, um, it's the first practice and I don't think you should be so hard on Michael."

"Oh is that what you think Coach Karris," the way he said my name carried a demeaning tone and I felt stupid for attempting to stop this fight. But there was no turning back now. "Well I think, you should mind your own business and go do something beneficial to this team like run and get me water, or just leave."

I didn't answer him right away. I kinda just stood there thinking about how to smooth this whole situation over. I scanned my eyes across the vicinity, catching glimpse of Coach Benson and the rest of the team who had jaws dropped.

I turned to Michael, lowering my voice, hoping my tone could pacify the ire in him, "look, your backwards C-cut can be improved. I can help you."

"Could you really?" Michael's eyes seemed to lighten up at my offer. I smiled softly, nodding my head. "Okay, I'm backing out then."

Michael skated backwards, deliberately pulling himself out of the situation. I could still sense some animosity for Ashton, but there was a lightness to him. I sighed in relief to this, and everyone around me seemed to be impressed with how I handled the situation. Ashton however, looked like he could throw up. He groaned in irritation, hurling his stick off to the side and skated to the player's bench.

"Alright team!" Coach Benson clapped his hands and got the attention of the boys. "Everyone take a break so I can go over some notes... Coach Karris!"

"Yes?"

"Go help Michael," he instructed and I nodded my head, meeting Michael at the center of the ring.

"Okay Clifford, after watching you play today, I noticed that you don't recover. Make sure to bring your legs all the way back," I advised. Michael nodded his head and listened to each word I said. "Also, some extra squats everyday wouldn't hurt, you know, to make your legs stronger. Plus your hiney would look nice."

Michael chuckled, "hiney?"

"Ignore my lack of obnoxious vernacular and do what I tell you!" I laughed, pointing to the empty ice.

By the end of practice, Michael's skills improved greatly. He had a huge grin on his face as he glided across the ice, using the tips I gave him. The rest of the team high-fived Michael as they entered the locker room, but Ashton wasn't too pleased with the outcome.

"Hey!"

My wrist was grabbed with a tight grip and I jumped from the sudden contact. Ashton glared at me angrily before dropping my hand, to which I immediately rubbed the raw skin.

"Yes Captain?" I gulped, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose.

"I'm going to give you one more chance to leave this team Karris. We don't need you," he declared.

"Ashton I don't understand. You saw me help Michael and he was able to improve. I'm confident in my abilities and I know I can be an asset to this team," I expressed. My voice didn't raise once, if anything it got lower. I hated feeling this way; I hated how my confidence couldn't stay. Even in argument, I acted like a bunny.

"I want you off this team. We were able to win back to back championships without you and we can surely do it for the tenth time without your help," Ashton was hostile for some reason and I didn't know why. He stepped even closer to me, his chest almost touching mine. I cowered from his extremely close proximity. "Seriously, leave the team or I'll make it so you'll want to leave."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Maybe, maybe not," he smirked. "But I will say this: it won't be pretty."

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Almost a Mashton fight! But no, I wasn't ready lol. And yay for Karris for helping out Michael. Ashton isn't convinced though and it'll be quite a while before he does.

Hope you all liked this chapter! Please vote, comment & share with all your friends! Thanks so much for reading! Love you all! <33