𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓼 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮

❆₊˚｡౨ৎ₊˚｡❆

The Hawks swarmed the ice, their synchronized skates slicing through the rink with an air of superiority.

Their chant—"Win! Win! Win!"—pounded through the arena, echoing off the walls and seeping into the hearts of every player.

Juliet Anderson stood at the edge of the ice, watching them like a hawk herself, nerves coiled tight in her chest.

She wasn't afraid of the Hawks, not exactly. But she knew their reputation. This was going to be a battle.

Juliet's eyes caught a familiar figure among the black and gold jerseys.

Adam Banks.

A smile tugged at her lips, and she waved slightly. Adam, focused as ever, gave a small nod back.

Their friendship had been solid ever since her parents split and her dad moved into a house right next door to the Banks family.

Despite playing for the Hawks, Adam had always treated her like an equal. But here, on the ice, things were different , but recently he's been acting weird all together.

And Juliet had no idea why .

The Ducks huddled together, a ragtag bunch compared to the polished machine that was the Hawks.

They all knew this wouldn't be easy, but they had grit—and sometimes that was enough.

Just as the Ducks tried to focus, Larson, one of the Hawks' biggest jerks, skated over, his usual cocky smirk plastered on his face. "Hi, girls," he sneered, circling the Ducks like a predator. His gaze flicked to Juliet. "Oh, hi, Juliet."

There was a subtle edge of respect in his tone

. Larson knew better than to mess with Juliet—or her brother Noah. No one wanted to face that kind of wrath.

Before anyone could respond, Coach Gordon Bombay skated into view, looking about as uncoordinated on the ice as he was off it.

He glanced at the Hawks, who were still chanting, and awkwardly decided to join in. "Win! Win! Win!" he yelled, attempting to rally the Ducks.

Only Averman and Goldberg weakly echoed him, their voices completely out of sync. "Win... Win...?"

Juliet shot Bombay a deadpan look. "Coach, what the hell are you doing?"

Bombay cleared his throat. "Yeah, we're fired up."

Goldberg, now decked out in goalie gear, looked far from fired up. "Oh, great. Good concept, guys," he muttered, shuffling into position.

Charlie skated past him, but in his excitement, accidentally clipped Goldberg's leg, sending the goalie stumbling.

"Nice goin', fool!" Goldberg snapped, trying to regain his balance.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to do that!" Charlie called over his shoulder, guilt flashing in his eyes.

"Yeah, sure, 'didn't mean to.'" Goldberg muttered, glaring after him.

But Charlie, always the prankster, couldn't resist.

He skated by again and bumped into Goldberg a second time. This time, it was on purpose. "Oops, sorry, Goldberg. Didn't mean to."

Goldberg threw his arms up. "Would you get off me before I clock you?!"

Juliet couldn't help but chuckle, but her focus quickly shifted as the game started.

She skated to the center, taking her place for the face off.

Noah, in his usual defenseman position, gave her a quick nod. The puck dropped, and chaos erupted.

Juliet darted forward, effortlessly snatching the puck and weaving between players like they were mere obstacles in her path.

She passed it to Noah, who handled it with precision, his eyes scanning the ice for an opening.

He sent it to Terry, but just as Terry reached for it, a Hawk slammed into him, sending him sprawling.

The puck went loose, and like clockwork, Adam Banks swooped in, his movements graceful and swift.

Before Goldberg could even react, Adam had fired the puck into the goal. The arena erupted in cheers.

"Dammit, Banks!" Juliet groaned, throwing her hands up in frustration.

Adam skated by, flashing her a smug grin. "All in a day's work, Anderson."

Juliet shot him a playful glare before flipping him off. Adam only laughed, unfazed.

The game was rough. Every time Juliet or Noah managed to get control of the puck, they passed it off, but their teammates couldn't hold onto it for long. The Hawks were relentless, their hits hard, their speed unmatched. It wasn't long before the scoreboard tilted in the Hawks' favor, with a single point that felt like a mountain to overcome.

At one point, Jesse, already fuming, had his hockey hat knocked clean off by a cocky Hawk player who skated by with a grin. "That's one!" the player taunted.

Jesse's face darkened, and he was just about to take a swing when the referee intervened. "Hey, hey, hey! Easy!"

The Hawks skated back to their bench, celebrating like they had already won the game. Coach Reilly, their ever-demanding leader, called out to them. "Good show. Sloppy pass, but way to stuff it, Banks! All right, all right! Let's run it up! Run it up!"

The Hawks hit the ice again, full of confidence. Meanwhile, Goldberg was growing more and more frustrated in the goal. He glared at his teammates after another close call. "Oh, man! How could you let him get by you?!"

Bombay, trying to stay positive, called for a line change. "All right, line change. Let's go, let's go!"

But as Charlie tried to skate off, a Hawk player came out of nowhere, slamming into him with a brutal hit. Charlie grunted, stumbling but managing to stay on his feet.

Juliet skated over, concern etched on her face. "Hey, Charlie, are you okay?"

Charlie shook his head, dazed but determined. "Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine."

The crowd started chanting again, louder this time. "Banks! Banks! Banks!" The pressure was mounting, and the Ducks were on the ropes.

Goldberg pulled out his water bottle taking giant sips .

Bombay, frustration bubbling over, yelled out from the bench. "How lazy can you be? They're killing us out there! Get your heads up, get those loose pucks!"

Juliet, still hanging back after the line change, skated up to Bombay with a smirk. "You know, Coach, I think me and you are gonna be good friends."

Bombay looked at her, exasperated. "What was that, Anderson?"

"Nothing," Juliet said, still grinning to herself as she skated off. "Just interesting..."

Bombay muttered under his breath. "These kids are so odd..."

As the game continued, the Ducks kept fighting, but it was clear they were outmatched

The Hawks were faster, stronger, and had the momentum.

But Juliet wasn't one to give up easily, and as she skated back into the center for another faceoff, she knew one thing for sure: this game wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

The Ducks sat sprawled across the benches in the penalty box, helmets tossed carelessly on the floor.

They had just lost—again—but the energy in the air wasn't tense or frustrated.

If anything, it felt like business as usual.

Laughter rippled through the group, as though they had completely shrugged off the defeat.

Bombay stormed over, furious. "Hey, shut up! You guys stink! I thought we came here to play hockey."

Peter leaned back, smirking. "You know, I knew we forgot something."

The rest of the team broke into laughter, ignoring the fact that they had just been flattened on the ice.

Bombay's face reddened with frustration. "Oh, you think this is funny? You think losing is funny?"

Averman, always the one to break the tension, shrugged. "Well, not at first, but once you get the hang of it..."

Jesse nodded, tossing his gloves aside. "We're the ones out there getting our butts kicked."

Terry chimed in, his tone light. "Yeah, it's not like you coach us or anything. At least we're trying."

Bombay glared at them, disbelief in his eyes. "You didn't listen to a single word I said! I told you to keep your heads up—you didn't. I said hustle—you went slower! That was the sloppiest playing I've ever seen. Why don't you just listen?"

Jesse looked him dead in the eye, unimpressed. "Why the hell should we?"

The room went silent for a beat. The players exchanged a few glances, not in fear or guilt, but more out of sheer indifference. This wasn't new to them.

Bombay's voice dropped, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "I don't care. You want to lose? Fine. You're the ones who look like idiots out there." With that, he threw his hands up and walked off, his footsteps echoing as he left.

Juliet barely glanced up as she leaned toward Connie. "Anyway... wanna come over for a sleepover?"

Connie grinned. "Yeah, sure. Can we stop by my house first? I gotta ask my mom."

Juliet nodded, not even phased by Bombay's meltdown. She glanced at Noah, who was already standing up, grabbing his gear. "Hey, I'm heading out with the guys. Tell Mom, okay?"

Juliet waved him off. "Yeah, sure."

The team wasn't bitter. Losing was just another part of the game now. They'd get back on the ice eventually, maybe win, probably lose.