I sat alone with a bag of sandwiches for the whopping three hours long trip. Listening to music on my phone didn't ease the knot in my throat. I didn't know how to make this right, other than telling Hunter and the others what the deal was. But then I remembered my dad, the bane of my existence, and how that might just be the last drop the town of Silver Grove needed to impale him with their pitchforks.

So I remained trapped in my thoughts, in a bus full of guys who had no idea they had a girl in their midst. I wondered if they'd sic their pitchforks on me too if this ever came out.

Lena Lee was trying to help. It just wasn't helping shit.

When we go to the venue, I felt like a few of the guys were skirting around me. We walked into the locker room assigned to us and picked out a stall. I just sat on the bench with a defeated sigh as everybody pulled out their gear from their backs and started suiting up in their ice warrior armors.

"You're not gonna change?" Pace asked next to me as he belted up his pants.

I shrugged. "I'm not supposed to play tonight."

"Yeah, unless Coach Joe says so." He plopped on the bench and bent down to put on the first skate. "I suggest you suit up, anyway, because if he calls you out and you're not ready there'll be hell to pay."

"Yeah, I guess."

I went through the motions with little heart. As Coach Martel went on to give one of his speeches I held back, wondering why he hadn't just told me to stay at home for this one like it'd been the case for the past month and a half or so. That'd have been a lot less disappointing than this. It might have saved me for a few days longer from realizing that I'd fucked things up with my teammates for seemingly stealing the crush off of one of them.

"Ah, man. It must be real nice to have your girlfriend send you off with a kiss."

I whirled around as one of the younger guys told another, enough paces away from me that I probably shouldn't have heard. Except they were being loud enough to ensure the comments hit the intended target.

"What I'm wondering is how he got Lena Lee when nobody else could," the second guy said.

I opened my mouth to rip them a new one, because even if I was at the bottom of the totem pole of skill in the team, I was still one of the seniors and they could use with learning something called respect. But then somebody bumped my shoulder in a way that was most definitely not accidental. I looked up, ready to rip a new one to whoever it was, but saw that it was the Captain. His eyes were like dark thunderstorms as he set them on me.

"Let it go. They're young and jealous."

He breezed past me without waiting for a retort to head the procession towards the ice. I frowned as I looked at the number 13 in his back, taking it as a sign of bad luck for me. Sure, it hadn't all sucked after meeting him and stepping into his world, but there was no way this ended well for me and I had best remember that every time I started day dreaming about the way he ran his hand through his golden curls, or the time he'd wrapped his arms around me to teach me how to shoot the puck correctly.

I sat on a corner of the bench when the game began, so that I was well out of the way. The skates were tight and heavy, the pads uncomfortable and my left elbow itched. I wouldn't have noticed any of those things if I'd been out there, duking it out.

Brian went on a sudden breakaway that tore through my haze of self pity. I joined everybody as we banged on the sideboard and cheered him on, but at the last second the other team's goalie stopped the slapshot that otherwise would've melted a hole through the net. I sat back down with a groan. That goalie really was good. My Bears kept on the relentless attack throughout the entire first period, but it ended 0-0.

While we were on break, the Coach gave us his impressions. We were playing well and our defense was so tight that the opponent hadn't managed to score a single goal against us. The elephant in the room was that none of us really knew how we could break through the final wall in the other team.

"Confusion," Dean said suddenly. We all looked at him as he squirted some Gatorade in his mouth. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said, "We just need to create enough of it in front of the goalie that any of us has a chance to score."

We joined heads and started hatching a mad plan that almost brought a smile to my face. Too bad I was just going to be able to watch it from the sidelines. Still, I was pretty excited when the second period started and the puck dropped. The other team started attacking right away and it forced us to go on defensive for a while, but Coach Martel saw a moment he deemed worthy of a first attempt and called on the first line to execute the plan. Three of the guys went out on the ice and they just wrecked havoc. They smacked into the opposing players at random moments, making them think they had the puck even though it was on the opposite end of the ice. They skated circles around them and the goalie. When the whole thing was disorganized enough that they must have been disoriented, Coach pulled our star player and inserted The Second Line Of Chaos. This one had Hunter, Brian and one of the younger guys, and their job was just to harass the goalie. Hunter got his ass in the goalie's face and the tactic finally worked, because the buzzer went off.

We jumped out of the bench in celebration, even as the entire ice rink came down in boos. Yeah, it was nasty, but it was legal, so what?

But of course, everything went to shit then.

We all saw Hunter fall. Or more like, be brought down. I stood on the bench, wondering if it was just a tangle of limbs what caused it, but then I saw the first fist fly at him while he was on his ass, and I lost it.

Nobody was paying attention to me, so they couldn't stop me when I flew out of the bench and dashed into the ensuing fray. The referees were already trying to dismantle the melee, but they hadn't got to the core of it quite yet. I was able to bypass them until I reached the guy who was trying to have a go at Hunter, who had just been doing his job. I was quickly getting tired of all the meatheads who reacted like this when they got bested.

I pulled the asshole off of my teammate with a mighty roar. The dude got disoriented, and I socked him an upper that sent him tumbling backwards. The roaring all around us increased until it was so senseless that my brain tuned it out.

"Better start learning how to lose," I growled at him.

Hunter blinked up at me, and then he said, "Charlie, watch out!"

I swiveled around with enough time to see a burly dude heading my way, pulling his fist back to strike. The good thing about burly guys was that they were slow, and he was not counting on the fact that I was a boxer. I was trained in avoiding blows. Practice kicked in and my upper body did an easy roll. This caught him by surprise, and I decided to gift him with another upper as well.

Alright, two down. Now what?

The answer came to me as I was hauled by my jersey. A quick glance back confirmed that it was one of our rivals, trying to pull tricks on me. It didn't matter. I wiggled my way out of my jersey, which ended up hanging from his fist. I raised mine and went on guard, but then I was swarmed by a bunch of my teammates, closing rank around me. A black and green clad arm hooked around me and pulled me away, but whoever it was couldn't prevent me from giving one last glare.

I got dumped on the bench with so much strength that I was sure my butt was going to bruise. And then I looked up.

It had been Dean who'd dragged me back, and his entire face was so red it was going to go into purple territory soon. That was not the worst part, though. Coach Martel stood next to him, and he very quickly let me know his thoughts and feelings.

They included a grammatically incorrect number of F-bombs.

The first attempt I did at getting some reasoning through got my eardrums blown off by Coach, with Dean as a stiff monolith next to him. I sat on the bench, being lectured by Coach about me not acting without his instructions, and what if I'd broken my nose again? It could have been bad this time. My face was still delicate. I was reckless. He ought to kick me out of the team.

Before I knew better I was on my feet and I screamed, "Oh yeah? Fine! Kick me out of the team, let's see who else can beat up all the assholes out there for you then. I'm out!"

In retrospective, my dearest wish was to have been patient enough to see their reactions to that. But I was fuming and I didn't care anymore. I did a good thing. I defended Hunter from a dick. Why was I getting all the rap for it? It was not fair. I was supposed to have a role in the team but now I couldn't do it because they thought I was fragile or something.

They were treating me just like dad and Miguel had for years.

I gritted my teeth as I stormed into the locker room. I banged on the locker with my skate and screamed in frustration. Hot tears started streaming down my face and I wasn't about to hold them back.

I hated it when people treated me like I was fragile. I hated feeling useless. Vulnerable. Incapable. That was why I did boxing, so I could feel strong and in charge. I didn't want to feel like I was at the whim of anybody else ever again. Yet, I was. I had to do what my dad said. I had to do what my school and my coach said. When would the time come where I could do what I wanted?

The door swung open behind me and my back stiffened. A hand fell on my shoulder. Somehow I knew that it was him, even without looking.

"Leave me alone, Dean."

"No," he barked. "I can't. If I do, you go and steal our friend's crush, or you beat up everybody in sight or you start talking back at coach. You're out of control."

I smacked his hand away and turned around with a glower that set him a step back. Or it might have been the waterworks that did it.

"Oh, I'm sorry for screwing up your perfectly controlled world with my chaos. It's just called living."

His brow darkened. "You're a hot head and you need to cool it. No one's kicking you out of the team as long as you follow the rules."

I threw my hands up in the air. "The rules keep changing! First I'm supposed to fight, then I'm not. But I'm the hot head? I just can't keep track."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Look, this is a contact sport but it doesn't mean that Coach or I want you to break your body for it."

I snorted. "Could've fooled me when you told me I was supposed to just be your bodyguard."

He bared all teeth in a rare flare of temper that brought me much satisfaction.

"That was a joke, I didn't mean for you to risk yourself at any random moments."

"It wasn't random. Hunter was getting his ass handed unfairly-"

Dean lost it then and he screamed, "Yeah, and you could've had your entire face done in with a single blow!"

We breathed hard as we looked at each other's eyes, hot with pent up anger and frustration.

Through gritted teeth I said, "What are you doing here anyway? The game's still going on. Leave."

"Not until you cool your hot head. I won't."

I threw my hot head back and gave a loud bark for a laugh. "Then you're going to be here a while, buddy. You underestimate the deep well of my anger at you right now."

"Oh yeah?"

He squared himself and before I knew what was going on he picked me up, carried me over his shoulder easily, even as I bucked and drove my fists into his back. It was only a few steps until he set me down. Before I got my bearings a stream of water rained over me. Freezing cold.

I yelped. I didn't even care that I sounded like a little girl. But he held me in place under the shower saying, "Just cool down, Charlie. Stop fighting everybody and everything. We're a team and you may piss all of us off but we're not quitting on you."

I spat water out and ran a hand over my face to wipe away my hair from my eyes. He was drenched, too. Good. Served him right.

It took a few more seconds for his words to register with me. Even though the water was so cold it was a wonder it wasn't ice cubes falling onto my head, I could feel the warmth of him radiating off in waves because he was very close. I blinked. Had he just got closer?

"Dean?" I asked.

A muscle in his jaw ticked as he looked down at me. I remembered the look he'd given me on the bus earlier, before we started the trip over. Dismissal. Coldness. He'd been angry at me.

I tilted my head to the side and asked, "How did I piss you off? And don't tell me it was because of the fight. You were already mad at me since earlier."

His lips parted. My eyes went down to them, drawn like a moth to flame. He licked them and my traitorous body was hopeless against the shiver that racked through it. I pretended that it was because of the water and I wiggled around to turn it off. He put his hands on the tile, trapping me against his arms and I forgot how to breathe. I felt his forehead against my back and he sighed.

"Charlie." My name came out with a rasp that I felt against me like a caress. My hands flew up to cover my mouth. I was sure I'd been about to make an incriminating noise. "You're driving me mad, alright. Just a different kind."

I hesitated for what felt like ages. I wasn't sure I was equipped with what I needed to deal with the answer to the question pending from the tip of my tongue. But eventually, it tumbled out.

"What kind?"

He took a second before he said, "I don't think about you the way I should. I... I shouldn't want to kiss you, but I do."

in other news, shoutout to @ToJuxtapose for coming up with quite a few name options for this ship! so if you ship Charlie and Dean write an inline comment with your vote for one of these below. the winning name will be announced on next Friday's update!

Darlie

Charlean

Dearlota

Darlota

Dota

Other (write in your comment)

happy weekend y'all 😂

P. S. the winner ended up being Darlie!