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chapter fourteen: street puck

a/n:

if you failed to read the notes at the end of the last chapter, I suggest doing so before proceeding.

tw(s) - none, really

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"Why do we need to practice if coach isn't even going to show?"

Rory silently contemplates Connie's words, her bruised body straining as she tries to keep up with Dean's stretches. He'd woken them up that morning by harassing them until they got up out of bed and then dragged them to the track next to the hotel after breakfast for some 'much-needed practice.' She was, as much as she was afraid to face him, expecting Bombay's presence (because, in her experience, coaches show up to practices), but he wasn't there. Apparently, nobody has seen him since the night of the Iceland game, and he isn't responding to calls or pages, either. She has no faith that he's going to ever actually show up.

So, like the other brunette, she's not entirely sure why they're still there... Other than the fact that nobody has the spine to say no to the enforcer, of course.

"We have a game tonight." Dean says simply. "We have to work out."

He's standing in front of the group like one of the men in her mother's exercise tapes, wearing this sleeveless top and flexing his muscles like some Adonis they all want to adore.

"I say we mutiny." Goldberg pants heavily, sweat beading on his brow as he stands up. "Who's with me?"

Rory squints in the sunlight but raises her hand immediately. Averman grabs her wrist and pulls it down as Dwayne stands up, too.

"Goldberg, I'm too tired to mutiny."

"I'm not." She huffs. Even if she's never been in a real fight, and she quite enjoys Dean's company, she's itching to practice her brand new punch technique on him. "We can all take him--"

As Dean swivels to lift a brow in her direction, the redhead next to her swallows nervously.

"She's kidding! Isn't she funny? Look at my girl, a real comedian."

Rory and Averman look at each other, then, with narrowed eyes, him trying to save her ass and her too tired to care.

Julie rolls her shoulders and leans on her knees. "Come on, guys, it's not like we couldn't use the conditioning."

She agrees with Julie to an extent. This team is still very ragtag, even while they were on a winning streak, and they could use something that both bonded them and got them into pique shape.

She just doesn't want to learn this from a peer.

She'd much rather it be a professional.

"Speak for yourself, babe." Dean smirks.

Rory blinks owlishly at the haughty enforcer and then turns, again, to Lester. "He does know that she's agreeing with him, right? Is he that stupid?"

Averman paused to think.

"Well, he hasn't exactly proved otherwise thus far..."

She snorts softly, shakes her head, and stands up straight. "Hey, Portman, I think she was agreeing with you."

Dean goes to retort but Adam cuts in before he can.

"Her name is Julie, not babe."

That elicits a vastly different reaction from the enforcer than Rory's banter did. His smirk falls into a straight, harsh line and he stalks right up to the blond, and her heart falls to her stomach.

"Don't tell me how to talk, rich boy!"

When he shoves Adam, the smaller boy almost goes flying.

Rory ends up being one of the people between them, back to back with Charlie as she puts a hand firmly in the middle of Adam's chest and holds him at arm's length. (This was a familiar position-- the mediator.)

"Hey, hey! It's not worth it!" She says at the same time Fulton shouts. "Yo, Portman, chill!"

"Hey, you want a piece of this?"

She manages to push Adam out of the way as Dean decides to pick on Fulton, instead. "Walk it off, man! He could kill you."

Adam makes an indignant sound but he doesn't dispute the claim.

"Yo, Team USA, what are you gonna do today? A million jumping jacks?"

Confused, Rory, with the rest of the team, chases the unfamiliar voice. A boy is standing by the gate. Her brows furrow.

She doesn't recognize him.

"This kid's crazier than me. Forget about him. Look, Fulton!"

Rory ducks out of the way as the fight restarts itself and keeps her gaze trained on the stranger that everyone seems to know. He waves, almost sarcastically, at her when they make eye contact.

"Who's that?"

Averman hums. "He's been heckling us the whole tournament. How'd you not know?"

"Oh."

She tries to think back, but she keeps drawing blanks. Maybe she was too concerned with too much to even give a heckler a second glance.

For a minute, she entertains the thought of a world in which her only critic is some random stranger and not someone with whom she shares blood.

"Hey, man I'm getting sick of you!" Jesse scoffs eventually, pushing through to the front of the group.

The heckler steps forward onto the track and past the gate.

"And I'm gettin' sick of seeing the USA represented by a bunch of whining babies."

Rory's nose wrinkles and she crosses her arms over her chest. Whining babies?

"Hey, kid, don't you have something better to do than spend money to make fun of people?"

The boy glances at her, seemingly amused, but Jesse holds a hand up to silence her. She bites her tongue.

"Well, too bad you can't back up that mouth."

"Me and my boys can take you any time, anywhere."

If so, Rory thinks, why didn't they come with him?

Jesse voices her internal dialogue a second later. "I don't see no boys!"

"I got 'em waitin! Grab your gear and let's go play some schoolyard puck-- or maybe you forgot what it's like to play for real pride." The security guard, tired of issuing warnings, starts to drag him away. "You coming or not?"

Team USA all stand around, staring silently after the boy as he's dragged away. His words hang in the awkward silence.

"Is it concerning to anybody else that people can get past security that easily?" She asks and turns around.

She's met with scattered smiles and a cough but mostly pensive expressions.

Then she meets Charlie's gaze.

"No."

"Yes." Charlie disagrees, although sheepishly. "C'mon, guys, what do we have to lose?"

The team starts to gather their things a little too quickly for Rory's liking. She stands there and watches them, sure that none of them even weighed their options here. Her expression curdles with disbelief.

"What do we have to lose? Seriously? I don't know, my reputation? My life? Do you guys always follow strangers away from safety and into the unknown?--"

She cuts herself off when Guy drops her stuff in her arms.

"Too cautious." He remarks, a twinkle in his eye.

"Am I too cautious, or are you guys not cautious enough?"

None of them answer her question. Their silence is enough of an answer.

"I am not roller skating through downtown Los Angeles."

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Standing on a basketball court in downtown Los Angeles, her roller skates on, Rory wishes that the ground would swallow her whole.

Even if they didn't die on their way here, and Russ came through on his promises, she can't help but twitch with the feeling that something bad could happen. What if the paparazzi took pictures of them and her father found out that she not only left the premises without an adult, but left to go play rough with these strangers? His patience with her is already so thin. There's no telling what he might do after finding this out.

Wedged between Kenny and Averman, she feels herself get queasy as the two teams stand there, suspended in silence.

"My little brother Russ here has been telling me that you've been choking big time." The heckler's brother, Michael, finally says, leaning on his stick and staring them down.

Choking big time? They lost one game.

Jesse snaps, glaring at them. "Your brother's got a big mouth."

Her heart rate spikes as it happens and Kenny mumbles something about how they're going to die. The members of Team USA glance at one another hesitantly as the tension in the air grows thick.

After an extremely long pause, Michael speaks again.

"He does, doesn't he?"

Russ grins proudly and Rory, alongside Averman and Kenny, exhales shallowly, relieved. She's glad that they're not going to die-- yet.

"Anyways, we thought we'd call y'all and see what you got."

"We know you can talk to the press and sign autographs."

Rory feels a bunch of eyes on her and throws her hands up, exasperated. "She was, like, five. What was I supposed to do? Say no?"

Luis snorts a laugh and turns back to the boys.

"We can do more than that. She can do more."

"Yeah? We can teach you to play like the real Team USA."

Dean, stubborn as ever, cocks a brow. "What would you know about it?"

"I'm getting really tired of him." Rory sighs.

Kenny and Averman both nod in agreement.

Thankfully, though, the Tyler brothers and their friends quickly show Dean just what they know about it.

Within a few minutes of the game starting, he gets slammed up into the fence surrounding the court by Michael. Rory has to bite her lip to keep from laughing at him getting his, but continues to cheer her friends on as loud as she can; Julie is finally getting to play with them after weeks on the bench, and Kenny actually manages to get the puck from the bigger, older boys around him. She enjoys herself, watching from the sidelines with Connie, Guy, and Averman as the LA kids dish out lessons while they play.

But then Russ Tyler skates up to her. He looms over her, blocking out the harsh sun, and cocks an eyebrow at him.

"I'm tapping you in."

"Who?" She asks, looking at both people on either side of her before pointing at herself for confirmation. "Me?"

"Yeah, you, Richie Rich. The girl they're talking about in the papers. I wanna see you play rough."

Rory's face pinches up. "What? You think that, because I'm rich, I can't play dirty?"

Russ shrugs. "If the shoe fits. So, are you gonna show me, or is your manicure too fresh?"

Rory runs her tongue along her teeth before she scoffs.

"Okay. I'll bite."

She gets up off the bench she was sitting on with her team and fastens her helmet. After taking one more sip, she thrusts her bottle in Averman's direction.

"Hold this."

"Oh, okay--" He flushes, fumbling to take it from her.

"Kick his ass, Rory!" Connie supplies for him when he can't quite find the words.

Rory gives her a thumbs up.

Russ has the upper hand for a moment, shoving into her first as the puck is dropped and whoever takes the face-off fights for it. Then she grits her teeth and, shifting her feet, she shoves him right over by hitting him with her elbow.

As he falls to the ground, her team scores on his.

"Damn." It's almost a joke. He looks up at her and grins.

"You want to know what playing dirty is like for me?" She asks, leaning over him. "It's this. It's me throwing you to the ice and not getting a penalty."

Rory extends a hand and he takes it.

"I got injured, I cried, and I got over it. You guys don't get to make fun of me for that because I'm from a different background. These games? The violence? That's only a taste of what it's like to play with rich boys who feel like they've got something to prove to their richer daddies."

She pulls him to his feet.

"Also, my manicures are gel. They harden like shells when they cure."

Russ stares at her like she's got three heads for a moment before he smiles. "Y'know, you ain't half bad, rich girl."

"Wish I could say the same about you."

He laughs.

In one of the next games, Luis gets the puck from Michael and she follows them as Michael chases him down toward the goal.

"Ah, not again!"

Rory winces as he, upon scoring a goal, loses his footing and crashes into the fence. She skids to a stop next to him but one of Russ' boys beats her to helping him off the floor.

"Hey, hey, hey. Use the breaks, baby."

Both of them look at him and blink, surprised, as he just grins and skates off.

"Yeah, baby, the breaks."

Luis narrows his eyes and punches Rory on the arm as she laughs, mumbling, "You're spending too much damn time with Averman."

She notices that he's a little more than flustered, but doesn't say anything.

The boys continue to try and teach them as the hours drag on. Fulton becomes enamored with the strange, violent slap shot that Russ seems to have patented, and Rory starts to relax, realizing that she might actually like Russ and street puck and having a little fun with her hockey.

In one of their many games, Rory weaves through them, checks Russ over (again), and passes to Dwayne, who scores a goal.

As the people around her cheer, Michael sets his sights on her.

"Oh, you done messed up now, girl. C'mere. I'm gonna get you." He approaches her, his face cold and stern. She skates back, a bewildered look on her face, as he gets close.

Just as her arm twitches with the urge to punch him and make him go away, his whole demeanor changes. He stands to his full height and smiles.

"Ease up, kid. I'm just messing with you."

Rory's shoulders slacken and she frowns, slightly.

"I didn't find that very funny..."

Michael keeps grinning, anyway. Then, his face gets a little more serious and he holds his stick up.

"Listen, those guys know that you can score, and they're gunning for you because they think that you being a girl means that they can take you out easy and win, but you're not gonna let them, alright?"

She nods hesitantly. "...alright."

"Now, when a guy comes at you like I just did, I want you to do this. Stick."

He throws his stick to the floor.

"Gloves."

He takes his gloves off and throws them at her chest.

"Shirt."

Before Rory can even realize what he's doing (or voice her concern that jerseys have a strap that won't let them get pulled over someone's head), Michael pushes her head down and pulls her shirt up her back for demonstration.

"Got it?"

Rory stands back up and fixes her shirt again immediately, face burning with embarrassment.

"Yeah." She peeps. "I got it."

"Good. Try it on me."

Taking a deep breath, she drops her stick, throws her gloves at him, and pushes his head down to pull the back of his shirt over his head.

"Did I do it right?" She asks as soon as he's stood up again.

"Yeah, you did." He knocks her on the side of her helmet with his bare hand, a sly smile on his face.

Rory reaches up to adjust her headgear again but quickly gets engulfed by both teams. Surrounded by encouraging cheers and pats on the back and head, she can't help but smile.

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Though she's unsure how it found them (Charlie must've left to make a collect call), the bus comes to pick them up at the court.

They board it to a chorus of cheers from their new allies, Russ calling out Rory in particular. She petulantly sticks her tongue out at him.

Averman huffs at the interaction and makes a show of holding her hand.

As per usual, they sit together on the bus. The good energy amongst the team is ten times what it was when they woke up this morning-- she even thinks that Dean has apologized to Adam, given that they're talking amicably, but she can't be sure.

Mindlessly, she starts to chew on the skin of her thumb.

Averman gently grabs her wrist, again, and stops her.

"What?" Rory hums, turning to him.

He shrugs. "I don't want you hurting yourself."

She opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes to mind. They maintain eye contact for a moment too long, the bus lurching to a start pulling their minds back to the world around them.

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a/n:

again, rory's going to need this whole "learn how to fight" thing for d3. kenny's storyline repeats anyway, so i didn't feel guilty stealing it from him.

love the implications in this chapter. was luis blushing bc the boy called him baby or bc rory called him baby (or both)? was russ flirting or is averman just a jealous little bitch? how is rory going to react to eden hall now that we know she's used to kids not getting punished for bullying on the ice?

comments and votes are super appreciated! they let me know that you guys like my writing and I cannot stress how much they motivate me to continue! thank you