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chapter four: posted positions

a/n:

well...

tw(s) — second hand embarassment

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"What is that?"

Rory tilts her head inquisitively at her boyfriend as he takes off his skates. He looks up at her, a little red in the face from his journey, and picks the two stacked Tupperware containers up from where they were resting on the steps beside him and hands them to her.

"The top is oatmeal cookies and the bottom is a hot dish."

She holds them level with furrowed brows.

Through the plastic top, she gets a hint of the smell of cinnamon and brown sugar.

"My mom made them for you. She thinks that you're, like, going to starve, so she's trying to force it." He grunts as he tugs at his laces. "Straight outta southern living or something."

She breathes a laugh. "It's, uh, it's cute."

"It's weird. Don't encourage her."

Rory rolls her eyes, albeit playfully. She doesn't have it within herself to remind him that, while his mother's unending affection makes her a little uncomfortable sometimes, she enjoys it most of the time because she was deprived of such things when she was growing up. She's sure (or at least she hopes) that he remembers that much, and she isn't sure who's around to listen to them.

So, instead of speaking, she carefully opens the top container and takes a bite out of it.

"These are really good." She says, balancing the two containers with one hand as the other covers her mouth as she chews.

Averman smiles softly and shakes his head.

When he's finally ready, after a brief stop at her dorm so she can shove the containers into their fridge, the two of them walk the paths hand in hand. He looks so pretty in the early morning light, but then again he's always pretty, even if she's the only one who thinks so.

"Hey, I have to stop by my locker," Rory says when they get there. "Can you let Mrs. Ingram know so she won't count me late?"

Her locker is on the third floor of this building, and the lock mechanism isn't exactly in the best shape. She should be fast enough to pull it off but she likes to make sure.

Averman nods and presses a soft kiss to her lips.

Rory flashes him a soft smile before turning on her heel and rushing up the nearest staircase, taking the steps two at a time. She has to pass several disgruntled upperclassmen and a few more underclassmen that won't get out of her way but, eventually, she gets to her locker.

Though, as it turns out, she was right to make Averman warm their teacher.

When the locker doesn't open on the second try, she thinks she might just burst into tears.

"Oh, come on."

She doesn't think she's doing it wrong. Twenty-five, thirty-one, and then one. Clockwise three times, counterclockwise once, and then turn immediately to the last number. Four people explained this to her and they all said the same thing, so it can't be her, right?

Too frustrated (and embarrassed) to ask a fifth person, she tries again.

And again.

And again.

And finally, right about Rory is really about to burst into tears, a fist comes over her head and bangs against the metal. The door pops right open.

"Are you kidding me?——"

She whips right around to come face-to-face with Rick.

"Oh. It's you."

"Yeah. It's me. Don't cream your pants." He grins crookedly as she purses her lips. "The door gets stuck. It's been getting stuck since before I got here. Maybe if you go and grovel to Buckley he'll change it."

She rolls her eyes for the second time that day and turns back to her locker. Rick stands there and watches her exchange books between her locker and book bag.

"What? No gratitude? Not even a thank you?"

"Nope." Rory emphasizes the second syllable. "Your dad might fall to his knees and cater to your every single need but that doesn't mean I have to."

She hasn't slept more than three hours in two days. She hasn't got the time nor energy for this.

"Ouch, right where it hurts. A real zinger, sweetheart."

"What do you want, Rick?"

"I just wanted to do a nice thing, Rory, and now you owe me double."

She rolls her eyes yet again as he starts walking away, mocking him under her breath.

"Now you owe me double."

Rory flips him off while his back is turned, immediately dropping her hand and hiding it when he glances back at her.

She's sure he didn't see that.

(He did.)

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There are three truths, Rory finds, to her new life at this school.

One: Rick Riley, while hot, is a complete and total douche.

Two: his friends, who seem intent on harassing the others while leaving her out of it, are even bigger, dumber douches.

And, last but not least, three: she and Julie are carrying their team's grade point average by a long shot.

Luis, for example, really, really hates math.

Rory figured that much out when he begged to copy her answers and then rushed to do so as their student-body president recited morning announcements during their brief second homeroom.

But the severity of his ill will become increasingly apparent after their teacher calls on him, forces him to get out of his chair, and tells him to write said homework answers on the board. Looking simultaneously like he's going to puke and make a run for it, he gets up slowly, eyes turning to Rory.

She doesn't need him to speak to understand that he copied the answers and none of the work.

Wordlessly, but with a sigh, Rory slides her paper off the desk to him.

He mouths a thank you and walks
up to the board.

And then he stands there, not writing, and Rory resists the urge to facepalm.

Luis turns, panicked, to look at her.

Gritting her teeth, she puts up four fingers to signify that the answer is four. He nods and writes the answer on the board, and she's too happy that he didn't draw a hand with four fingers to even acknowledge the fact that the teacher might've noticed.

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"Babe."

Rory smacks Averman's hand as he reaches out to poke her for the fourth time in the minutes.

The two of them only have one free period that aligns in their schedule and she figured that she would take advantage of the nice weather, since it'll be frigid in another few weeks. Sitting under one of the trees on the campus, she makes some flashcards for their English test next week. Les, who came because he'll do just about anything she tells him to, is doing his best to keep her from doing just that.

"Lester, I swear to God."

"What?" He asks, clearly amused. "I'm not doing anything."

"You're being an ass."

"Takes one to know one."

Huffing, she looks up from her work. "If you didn't want to help me, why did you come out here?"

"Because I wanted to spend time with you, not with you and your textbooks."

"I need to study to keep my grades up and get into a good college."

"Your dad is rich, can't you just buy your way in."

She taps the stack of cards against the textbook so they sit neatly and tries to ignore the ire that is building within her. "Yes, but I don't want to do that. I want to get into one on my own accord. I want it to mean something. And, to do that, I need a good transcript."

"But you're already a genius with a great record. Why can't you just take a break."

"Taking a break would mean I have to be alone with my thoughts, and that's never a good thing."

He snorts at her poor attempt at a joke and leans his head on her shoulder.

"How about this, I finish these next three cards and then you can have my undivided attention."

Averman grins. "I don't know if I'll be able to last that long, but I'll try."

Rory shakes her head fondly and starts another flashcard.

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Another example of that third truth is that both Charlie and Fulton are copying off Rory in their history class.

She knows because they're stupidly obvious with it, but she elects to ignore it. Fulton could really use it, and it reminds her of the Goodwill Games and Michelle MacKay and Gordon Bombay— and Dean Portman, who she carried through every tutoring session.

Man, she thinks as the teacher animatedly talks about the Pilgrims, she misses Dean.

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"Where's Charlie? Fulton? Russ?"

Nobody can give Rory a clear answer as she joins them at the lunch table. A few of them shrug but most of them just stare blankly, exhausted by a new caseload and their interactions with their snobby peers. She huffs a bit but says nothing.

"And Luis?"

"Flirting with some blonde girl." Guy points.

She looks back over her shoulder and finds that Luis is, indeed, flirting with a blonde over at the cheerleading table. According to Rachel, the girl goes by Mindy, and, as of three months ago, she is Rick Riley's ex-girlfriend.

"Oh, for the love of—— Luis!"

His head snaps up to meet her gaze, and Mindy waves at Rory with a flat look. She doesn't linger on that for too long and opts to pin Luis under a stern look.

"Get over here, pro-stopper, before someone beats it to a pulp."

Like a child, he rolls his eyes so hard that his head rolls with them and groans.

Still, as Mindy giggles at his expense, he gets up and practically stomps over to them, slumping down in the seat next to her.

"I hate you."

"Mhm. You'll be thanking me later."

"Highly doubt it." He pouts, stabbing at his food.

Kenny comes meandering over to the table, then, with a sad look on his face and no food.

"Oh no."

He sighs and sits down. "Oh yeah."

Rory's eyes flit over to the varsity jerks who are, again, making a joke about eating the boy's stolen lunch. Rick meets her gaze and smirks, waving with a wiggle of his fingers, and she elects to ignore that, too.

"You can have some of mine. I've been snacking all day anyway."

She turns her tray so he can pick at it.

Russ, Charlie, and Fulton all arrive while she's distracted. They're stopped in the doorway by Rick and the one boy, Cole, and her attention is on them immediately.

"Oh, come on, my mommy made me brownies!" Charlie whines a whine that the bigger boys don't know is fake as Cole snatches a paper bag from him.

Rory cocks her head—— What are they doing?

She knows for sure that he didn't have that when he got there that morning.

"Fresh, warm ones," Fulton says even less convincingly.

"Hey, it's too bad about your Bash Brother." Rick snarks. "Heard he was too scared to leave home."

God, why is he such a dick?

"Portman ain't scared of nothin'."

Cole cuts into the conversation: "What the hell kind of brownies are these?"

"I gotta tell her...to stop using the horse turds in the recipe."

The entire lunch room erupts then, the three ducks having to book it through the room as the varsity kids chase them. Cole drops the bag onto the cheerleader's table, making them all scream and get up to also chase them down. Rory ducks down, covering her head and laughing, partially in shock, as the lunchroom clears out. Her teammates get up and start chasing down the boys that are chasing down their friends.

Connie grabs her hand and pulls her to her feet, dragging her along with the rest of them.

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After a day as eventful as today was, Rory wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and pick at oatmeal cookies while doing her homework. She doesn't have the opportunity to do that, though, because their first practice is an hour after their classes end.

She and Charlie walk side by side, dressed up in all of their gear, into the school's rink. It's just as huge as the rest of the campus, earning gasps and whispers of awe from the Ducks. The high ceiling is adorned with blood-red banners that announce the significant championship accomplishments made by the Varsity Warriors over the past few decades.

Rory wonders how many of those banners have Rick's name on them. How many of them have his father's name, too?

They're here, after all, Rick and his team. And they're practicing in a way that she knows the Ducks have never practiced before.

She wonders, briefly, how it feels to work with his father's trophies quite literally looming over his head. Wonders if he feels the way she does when she goes to press conferences and charity events. But, then, she pushes the thought away.

She isn't like him. He isn't like her.

He wouldn't even begin to get it.

(Or, would he?)

"—— big deal." Fulton scoffs, rousing her from her rapidly spiraling train of thought.

Luis sighs. "I don't know. They look pretty good."

"They've sure won a lot of championships." Julie says, looking up.

"Yeah." Rory's gaze is still trained on the banners above them.

Her father would probably foam at the mouth if he saw it.

"They're huge."

"They're not so hot." Charlie insists.

Rory drags her eyes away from the ceiling and ignores the short bout of vertigo that overcomes her in favor of lifting a brow in his direction.

"Uh, Charlie, you do understand just how many championships those are, right?"

He looks down at her. For a moment, she thinks he might be hurt by her doubt in him. In their team.

"Come on, guys, we could skate out there." Connie cuts in, punching her in the back halfheartedly.

The goalie across from them skates out of the net and removes his helmet as both Rick and Cole approach him. They start talking as the Ducks walk around and toward the entrance, and Rory maintains eye contact with Rick, knowing he's talking about them (or, in the very least, her), even if it makes it hard to breathe.

"God, I hate that kid." She mutters as she steps onto the ice.

"Which one?"

"Their captain."

Just as Charlie's skates touch the ice behind her, the Varsity kids skate up to them.

Once again, Rory finds herself chest-to-chest with the varsity captain, who really has to look down at her with his skates on.

"Well, if it isn't Captain Duckie." He puts a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"Get your hands off him." Fulton says, pushing Rick back.

Rory sighs softly. Rick's eyes flit to her, then, and he smirks.

She gives him the same look his ex gave her during lunch.

"Ooo, look, a bash brother." Cole's voice makes her skin itch. "I'm so scared."

Rory opens her mouth to remind him that there are two bash brothers present—— that Kenny is an honorary bash brother but a bash brother nonetheless—— but her voice catches in her throat. Having a stare down with him under the shadow of all of his recurring triumphs makes her mind too fuzzy to cooperate.

Thankfully, before anything can happen, the Varsity coach comes skating over.

"Break it up! Come on, men, let's go."

Practically being herded by the short man, the other team finally starts to get off the ice. The Ducks stand there, silently watching them leave until they're alone in the room.

"How about it cowboy—— round up?"

"Hey, Charlie." Rory says uneasily, turning to face him as they skate along. "I know you guys have never had a real coach, but maybe we should wait a bit? See what he thinks about us messing around?"

She's been asking around about their new coach for the past week, and everything she's learned has led her to believe that this man is nothing like Bombay. That he's like coaches she's had, meaning he definitely won't appreciate... whatever the hell it is that they do.

It's fun, she thinks, but it isn't practice.

Charlie leans over her to speak directly in her ear, placing a gloved hand on her shoulder. "This is how we practice. Duck hockey, Ror. You'll have to get used to it sooner or later."

She tries to smile, but she's not sure it looks right.

"Well, come on, Cowboy. Hit it."

"Yee-ha! Round 'em up, doggies!"

Dwayne chases them around on the ice for a bit, catching people with his lasso. Rory allows him to catch her early, and she stands off to the side, wringing her fingers in front of her as the ache of her anxiety spreads from her stomach into the recesses of her chest. They just don't get it, and she wants to cry, or puke, or both.

In fact, she does almost do just that as Dwayne gets Charlie, causing him to trip and go sliding.

Right up to their new coach's feet.

Orion blows his whistle and she stands stiffly.

"My name is Coach Orion." He says, a scornful look on his face as he looks up from Charlie and at them as they skate over to him. "You can call me Coach or Coach Orion."

Charlie, not getting the hint, sticks out his hand.

"Well, you can call me Charlie."

Rory cringes as the rest laugh.

"That must be what that C on your jersey stands for, huh? It sure doesn't stand for captain."

This is exactly what she knew was going to happen.

"Sorry, Coach. We were just messing with you, you know." Russ says, smiling.

"Hey, Bombay gave him that C."

Rory turns to look at Goldberg and whispers. "Shut up."

Picking a fight only makes it worse. It always makes it worse.

"And I respect that, but that's the past. This is my team now, and I'll be selecting the captain."

"You gotta be kidding me, right?"

The brunette sighs, reaching out to touch her friend on the arm. "Charlie——"

Damage control was always her strong suit.

(So is following orders, but that's beside the point.)

"I mean, you're the rookie here. We've all been together for years."

Coach Orion clenches his jaw. Rory thinks she might faint.

"Okay, Charlie, laps. Right now."

She hears Connie mutter an uh-oh from behind her as Charlie removes Dwayne's lasso.

"How many, Coach Orion."

"I don't recall saying."

Charlie's nostrils flare and he starts doing laps.

"Now you listen up, and you listen up good. We are here for one reason, and one reason only. You know what that is? It starts with a W."

"To win, Coach Orion, sir!" Averman says, trying to make them laugh. It earns hushed laughter and another cringe from Rory.

"No." Orion responds monotonously. "To work. Official high school hockey is very hard work, and it all begins... with defense."

Rory forces herself not to look at Charlie as he laps and to maintain eye contact with the coach as he stops pacing before them. She's pretty sure her captain(?) is staring at her as if he expects her to do something, but she doesn't want to be right.

Orion stares at her for a second, too, making her fidget.

"I've seen your tapes. I know you can score goals, I just don't know if you can stop 'em."

He finally takes his eyes off her to look at Goldberg, who scoffs a laugh.

"Hey—— sorry, sir."

"You're not kids or little ducks anymore, so I'm not gonna treat you that way. You're gonna learn to play two-way hockey: offense and defense. It's gonna take one thing. It starts with a W."

"To work, Coach Orion sir."

Rory glares at Averman as Dwayne smacks her boyfriend on the arm.

"Wrong. Will. It's gonna take real will if you wanna play in my barn. All right, count off, let's start the ladder."

After that, he stops Charlie's laps and they start to practice, and Rory becomes uncomfortable with how often Coach Orion stares into her soul. What's with the men at this school and staring at her so ferociously? Was it about her father? Her grandfather?

Her?

When their practice is over, everyone starts to head back toward the locker room.

"Myrtle!"

Rory cringes and turns on her heel. "Yes, sir?"

"Tell your father I said hello."

She nods curtly and skates off the ice, making her way to the locker room.

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"Eden Hall Academy requires you to maintain a C average to compete."

Rory sighs with unnecessary relief because she's well above that and watches Coach Orion as he walks through the room. Other people don't look too happy about it.

"I believe that's a bad rule. I don't want any C players on my team, I want B's or better. Or you're gonna be riding the pine pony."

Her relief is short-lived. Despite being above it, she knows damn well some of her teammates aren't, and that it isn't exactly fair.

She'll just help them study, she decides.

She'll have to help them study.

"Now, you've got fifteen minutes after each practice to clear this locker room. You have homework to do."

He pauses at the door, turning around.

"Oh, and one more thing. Stay clear of the varsity until we play 'em in the JV/Varsity showdown. You got that?"

He parts with that, leaving Rory confused and them to complain.

"Fifteen minutes? Man, I cannot move."

"Hey guys, look, he posted our positions."

Connie is the first up to the board, a few people trickling after her. Rory would rather not look right now, her stomach churning the way it always does when stuff like this happens, so she continues taking off her gear.

Slowly, so as to not get sick all over the floor.

"I don't believe this, I play left side not right." Fulton scoffs, turning away from the paper and walking away.

"Third line?!" Russ whines. "Man, that's a major diss."

Adam comes up behind Connie.

"I'm not even posted."

"Yeah, you are." Connie says, pointing. "Adam Banks, third line, center—— varsity?"

"I made varsity?" Adam's voice sounds anything but pleased.

"Yeah. So did Rory."

Rory drops her helmet, head whipping around to look at the two of them as they turn back to look at her. Adam matches her panic and Connie's brows are furrowed.

Without meaning to she all but shouts.

"What?"

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a/n:

word count— 3767

omg I wonder what orion meant by tell your dad I say hello (I'm joking. I know what he meant.)

yeah things get a little fucking crazy after the next chapter... whoops?

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