𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓼 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮
ᴮᵃⁿᵏˢʸ ʲᵒⁱⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒˢᵉʳˢ

❆₊˚｡౨ৎ₊˚｡❆

The locker room buzzed with energy, the players still riding the high of their game. Jerseys were draped over benches, the air thick with the scent of sweat and victory.

Connie and Juliet sat next to each other on the wooden bench, their skates kicked off, chatting quietly amid the noise.

Charlie leaned back against his locker, arms crossed and a proud grin plastered on his face. "Going to the playoffs! Whoo!"

Jesse clapped him on the shoulder, adding with a smirk, "One win!"

Connie nudged Juliet with her shoulder, her voice soft as she asked, "So... your dad is visiting, right?"

Juliet nodded, her expression calm but thoughtful. "Yeah, he is."

Connie hesitated, concern flickering in her eyes. "Do you... find that weird?"

Juliet gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Not really. I mean, they divorced when I was seven. It's been a while."

"I know, but..." Connie paused, searching for the right words. "I just wanna make sure you're okay."

Touched by her friend's care, Juliet leaned over and pulled Connie into a side hug. "I love you, Cons. Thanks for looking out for me."

Connie hugged her back tightly, her smile warm. "Love you more, Jules."

Their moment of friendship was interrupted by Bombay stepping into the room, his voice cutting through the chatter.

"Hey!" Bombay walked up to Peter, Jesse, and Terry, who were leaning against the lockers, still in their casual clothes. "Why aren't you guys in uniform? We've got warm-ups in half an hour."

The boys exchanged uneasy glances, avoiding his gaze, but said nothing.

Bombay frowned but turned to address the whole team. "All right, everyone, listen up!" His voice carried authority, making the room fall silent. "I've got some good news. We're getting a new player—Adam Banks."

The announcement was met with mixed reactions.

Charlie sat up straight, his brow furrowed. "What?"

Karp chimed in, his face scrunched in disapproval. "He's a Hawk!"

Bombay crossed his arms, unfazed by the rising chatter. "He's a good player."

Connie folded her arms, her tone sharp. "We don't need him."

Bombay's gaze swept the room. "I'm the coach, and I say we do need him."

The murmurs grew louder, but Juliet stood abruptly, her voice slicing through the noise. "Hey!"

The room fell silent, all eyes on her.

Juliet's gaze was fierce, her tone unwavering. "Adam is one of my best friends, and I swear, if I hear anyone talk shit about him in front of me, I'll freaking murder you."

A stunned silence filled the room as everyone stared at her, wide-eyed.

She crossed her arms and glared at her teammates. "He's a good player. More importantly, he's a good person. And if anyone here has a problem with him, you've got a problem with me."

Bombay gave her a small nod of approval before continuing. "If we make it to the playoffs, he could be a big help."

Karp scoffed, leaning back against the wall. "If? All of a sudden, you don't think we're good enough?"

Jesse stepped forward, anger flashing in his eyes. "No, he thinks we're losers. That's what he told Reilly."

Bombay's brows knitted in confusion. "What?"

Peter stood, his arms crossed and his voice dripping with defiance. "We heard what you said. You said we were losers—that we didn't deserve to live."

Bombay's voice softened, almost pleading. "That's not what I meant."

Peter pointed at him accusingly. "I saw that picture of you missing that goal. You were a Hawk, weren't you? Guess you guys stick together to the end. You know what? I don't need your stinkin' equipment. See you around."

He yanked his gear off the bench and stormed out.

Bombay called after him, his voice firm but tinged with frustration. "Peter, come back here! I'm talking to you, son!"

But Peter didn't stop.

Jesse shook his head, glaring at Bombay. "Forget it, cake-eater. If you wanna play, play with yourself. Come on, Terry."

The two of them followed Peter out, leaving the room in tense silence.

Bombay sighed, running a hand through his hair. "All right. I'm going up to the bench, because that's where I'm supposed to be. Anyone who wants to join me can join me. Anyone who doesn't..." He paused, letting his words hang in the air. "...Well."

He walked out, the door swinging shut behind him.

The remaining players sat in stunned silence until Juliet spoke, breaking the tension.

"He means well," she said firmly, her eyes following Bombay's exit. "Peter and Jesse are overreacting." She scoffed, shaking her head. "Honestly, I never liked Peter anyway."

Juliet stood up abruptly, her frustration clear as she grabbed her gear and slung it over her shoulder. Determined, she crossed the locker room to the bench where her brother Charlie and Fulton sat on the other side.

"You guys going or what?" she asked, her tone sharp and expectant.

Charlie exchanged a glance with Fulton before standing up and moving beside Juliet. "Yeah, coming," he said simply.

Noah reached out, placing a hand on Fulton's shoulder. "Let's go, then," he said, his voice steady and encouraging. Together, the three boys made their way toward the door.

Juliet hesitated for a moment, turning back to look at the rest of the team. The silence in the room was deafening.

"Guy?" she called, her voice softer this time.

Guy didn't respond, his head hung low, avoiding her gaze.

Juliet's eyes shifted to Connie, a flicker of hope still in her expression. "Connie? Not even you?"

Connie looked up, guilt written all over her face. "I'm sorry, I—"

"Yeah, don't even," Juliet cut her off, shaking her head as she turned and left without another word.

She stormed out of the locker room, her skates clinking against the floor, and made her way to the ice. As she stepped onto the rink, the cold air biting at her cheeks, the sound of the referee's whistle echoed loudly.

"Ducks forfeit. Flames, you win," the referee announced, his voice firm and final.

"What?!" Juliet's voice rang out, her disbelief and frustration spilling over.

She skated quickly toward Coach Bombay, her anger fueling her movements. "Bombay!" she called, her tone demanding an explanation.

Bombay turned to her, his expression heavy with regret. "Juliet..." he started, his voice soft, but the sadness in his eyes said it all.

Before Juliet could say more, Noah skated over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. His presence was grounding, a quiet reminder of the bigger picture.

"Come on, Jules," he said gently, pulling her close. "Let's go home. Dad's waiting, and we can't leave him with Mom."

Juliet clenched her jaw, her frustration simmering just below the surface.

But as she looked at her brother, the fight drained out of her.

She nodded, letting him guide her off the ice, her heart heavy with the weight of disappointment.