k a r r i s

✖

two months later.

Excitement enveloped my entire body like a warm blanket during winter's chill. It rushed through my veins, pounded into my heart with frenzy, and caused me to dance like an awkward sea lion on LSD in the middle of a crowded airport. I was home, it was the Championship tournament, and the Willowridge hockey team had no damn clue I would be arriving within an hour.

"Karris!"

I jolted over my shoulder, spinning in place till I found the source of the echoing bellow. My eyes were wide open, darting focus through out the expanse of baggage claim in the San Diego Airport. But then I saw her- Berkley. She waved her hand frantically in the air, hopping on her toes with a wide grin plastered across her face.

"Berkley!" I called out, running towards my best friend. She sprinted across the linoleum floors, and I could hear her booties clack against the tiles. With our arms wide open, we dashed towards one another like two slow motion lovers in a field of daisies while the Chariots of Fire theme song played. My best friend let out a dramatic battle cry and leapt into the air. Miraculously, I caught her, holding onto her torso with a tight grip. I spun Berkley around, giggling obnoxiously while travelers passed by.

"I missed you best friend!" Berkley declared.

"I missed you harder!" I exclaimed, bringing her back down to her feet. "It feels so good to be home!"

"I'm glad for you to be home," she laughed. With an arm around my shoulder, and mine wrapped around her waist, the two of us merrily skipped back to my flight's baggage caraousel.

"So no one knows I'm here tonight?" I asked, nearing the conveyer belt of luggages.

"Nope," Berkley shook her head. "The team was so morose at school today when they found out you couldn't make it."

"Yes! I'm so glad they bought the lie," I snickered demonically. "I feel bad for Ashton though. He FaceTimed me while I was in the airport, and I had to run into the bathroom to fake that I was in school."

I let out a sigh of relief, happy that my plot to surprise the hockey team was successfully in full force. Originally, I didn't think I could make the match even though I had every intention of doing so. But after some begging, several of my teachers at Washington High allowed me to take exams a day early.

"Which bag is yours? Has it come out, yet?" Berkley questioned, her eyes glued to the diverse array of luggage that maneuvered passed the people on my flight.

"Um," I pursed my lips to the side quizzically, eyeing each piece of luggage that fell out of the metallic chute above.

"Right here, Karris," the deep, yet animated voice filled my ears and with a smile I turned to look at him.

"Thanks Calum," I grinned, grabbing the handle of my bag from the boy's grasp.

"Hey, man," Berkley pulled Calum into a hug, squeezing him tightly. "I missed you and your fuckboy ways."

"That Latina fire," Calum chuckled. "They don't have a lot of that in rehab."

"Speaking of, how's everything? Are they gonna let you out soon?" Berkley asked, motioning towards one of the many glass doors.

"Yea, very soon actually," Calum spoke with enthusiasm, his eyes squinting shut as he smiled heavily. "In two weeks."

"Shut up!" Berkley punched him in the shoulder as we exited the airport, meeting the oceanic chill- though, it definitely wasn't as cold as Northern California. "Are you coming back to Arden Heights?"

"My parents want me to, but I kind of want to explore the world. Take a gap year before college; get a job where I can work remotely, and travel the world," Calum expressed. His deep eyes sparkled with elation, and I could tell that it was something he truly wanted to do.

"Really?" I looked up at the handsome, dark haired fellow in curiosity. "You didn't mention that on the plane ride over here."

"I actually did Karris, but you knocked out during the last hour of the flight," Calum proclaimed with a giggle. "It was like I was talking to a brick wall- a brick wall that drooled all over my shoulder."

"Shut up," I sneered, rolling my eyes. I fought back a laugh as I pushed him till he teetered slightly.

We followed Berkley across the street to the parking structure. Our conversations continued, reverberating off the concrete walls. The car was parked nearby, with its hood facing one of the outer walls. With a simple click of a button, the trunk opened and we placed our baggage inside.

"Hold on for one second," I bit my bottom lip in concentration, opening up the small compartment of the black bag.

"What do you need?" Berkley asked.

"This," I grinned, brandishing my custom-made Willowridge jersey, courtesy of the team. The glitter on its numbers sparkled beneath the florescent lights and I was itching to get the jersey on.

"Great minds think alike," Calum complimented, grabbing the silver zipper of his black hoodie and pulling it down. Beneath the warm fabric, was his own hockey jersey.

The three of us slipped into the car, and within minutes were exiting the parking structure, meeting limited airport traffic on the streets before us. Berkley blasted some music, instigating a cheerful singalong as she drove 20 miles North towards Arden Heights. When the shops and exit signs became familiar, I knew we were almost home. I stared out the window, the nighttime yielding a unique kind of tranquility.

"So who's Willowridge going up against?" Calum questioned from the backseat. "Cobb didn't let me have a personal phone, which meant no social media."

"Taft," I turned in my seat. "They're from Sacramento, and thankfully we have home turf advantage."

"Damn, it would've been some kind of battle if Brampcrest made it to championships," Calum brought up, his face washed over with terror.

"They had to pull out of the running after the trial. They lost four of their players, and many of the Brampcrest guys quit following the result of it," I explained with a huff.

"Brampcrest Academy lost a lot of their sponsorships too," Berkley chimed in. "Not many companies want to support a school that breeds bullies and assassins."

Thirty minutes later, we neared the freeway exit closest to the school. The excitement-induced nerves in the pit of my stomach made me a jumbled mess. Berkley lowered the volume of her radio as she drove through the quaint streets of Arden Heights. The businesses that blurred passed the window, like the yoga studio and Starbucks, gave me a sense of comfort because they reminded me of sweet memories. However, even the buildings attached to fear and hospital visits, like the CVS on the corner, eerily pacified me too.

"Damn, looks like everyone and their mamas are here tonight," Berkley observed, our campus parking lot filled to the brim with cars. "I'll drop you guys here so you're not late. I'm gonna have to park across the street in overflow."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I don't mind walking with you."

"Yes, I'm sure, go!" Berkley insisted with an assertive grin.

"Fine," I surrendered opening the door, and the evening chill kissed my cheeks.

"Wait, oh my God!" Berkley gasped.

"What?" I matched her wide eyes and urgent tone, stopping in my tracks.

"Your jersey Karris. Strip down and put that shit on," Berkley scolded playfully.

"Oh yea," I grabbed the ensemble that was wedged in between the dashboard and front window. Without another thought, I shimmied out of my jacket and threw off the Mayday Parade shirt beneath it.

"Oh my gosh," Calum shrieked, screwing his eyes shut. "Are you getting naked right now?"

"Sorry," my voice was singsong and not one bit apologetic, pushing my arms through the sleeves.

"Where'd this confidence come from?" Calum's eyes were still shut, even though he was outside of the car and facing in a whole different direction.

"Sex will do that to you," Berkley blurted with a coy smile.

"Hey," I smacked her shoulder, narrowing in my brows. She threw her hands up in surrender.

"What?!" Calum's voice squeaked with surprise. "You've been penetrated?!"

"Oh my gosh!" My cheeks became hot despite the cool air that surrounded me. "This conversation is over! Bye! We'll see you inside Berkley!"

I slammed the passenger side door before tugging on Calum's arm. He looked back at me and the disgusted look on his tanned face disappeared, morphing into a cheeky smile.

"So," Calum poked my side, causing me to jump. "How was your... deflowerment?"

"Really Cal?"

"What? You did it- like, the big it. That's a huge deal!"

"I'm not going to discuss this," I crossed my arms above my chest, shaking my head.

"Okay, it's your business," Calum commented, however quickly added, "just don't get pregnant and die."

"You're a goober," I giggled at his Mean Girls reference, giving him a playful shrug.

The two of us were met with a set of glass barricades that we used to walk into everyday. The rink became our home, where the two of us established a friendship. It's where my feelings for him flourished, and it's also the same place where he broke my heart. This ice stadium honed the skills that made my brother a top, competing hockey player. This was his home away from home, and I was honored to call it my home too.

"Feels so weird to be back," Calum's eyes lingered on the edifice of our beloved hockey rink, and I could see the endless swirls of good memories bombarding his mind.

"I know," I agreed. I reached out and linked my arm in his, "come on- our family is waiting for us."

Calum looked down at me with a soft smile, and allowed myself to lead him into the building. The area inside was booming with students, spectators, and a couple of local news outlets. The jovial ambiance shimmered around us like a neon aura. The majority of the pupils scattered through out the arena, consisted of support for the Thunderbirds, while there were a select few dressed in Purple to rally for Taft High.

"Let's go this way so we don't pass those sleazy reporters," Calum seethed, angrily glaring at the news anchors who were preparing their teams. "They're gonna make this about you, and I'm pretty sure you're done with the unnecessary attention."

"You read my mind Calum Hood," I spoke, holding my hand out towards him. "Take me away my dear friend."

The irritation on Calum's his face melted away and in replace he beamed my way. He grabbed ahold of my hand and pulled me down the corridor where the second stairwell was located. I giggled in expense, trying my best to keep up with Calum's long legs. He pushed open the stairwell doors and with excitement, we ran down the steps to the locker rooms.

When our steps slowed down, I caught my breath, feeling nervousness churn in my stomach once again. Calum nudged me, and when I glanced at the dark-haired boy, he shot me a goofy expression. I shook my head, amused with his attempt to make me feel better. Gradually, the butterflies in my tummy seemed to calm down, only fluttering lightly.

"Let's do this shit, Karris," Calum spoke with determination and excitement, as the two of us stood before the locker room doors.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," I smirked, and grabbed the door handle. With all my might, I pulled open the door and the two of us stormed into the space with as if we were Charlie's Angels. We sauntered through the clearing, hearing the clamorous hollers and sexual innuendos echo against the walls. When Calum and I turned the corner to find the team smacking each other with hand towels, did we make our presence known by slamming a hand on a locker. The blaring shrill of rattling metal snatched the attention of the team, and when their heads snapped in our direction, did we simply smirk.

"We're baaack," my whimsical tone serenaded the team as my lips lifted into a lively grin.

"Holy shit!"

"Fuck me with a cactus!"

"They're alive!"

The entire Willowridge team gasped, catapulting themselves from their place and towards Calum and I. We were hailed with warm hugs and friendly kisses on top of my head. I greeted each member of the team, pulling each one of them into a tight embrace. My smile never faltered, and the nervousness I once felt, quickly faded into nothing but a distant memory.

"Coach Karris and Calum Hood? Do my eyes deceive me?" Coach Benson strolled out of his office with a burly laugh. He cracked a smile and gave each one of us a hearty hug.

"In the flesh," Calum mused.

"Well, we have a game to win," Coach Benson announced. His cheeks flushed with a natural shade of pink, and his blue eyes shined brighter since the last I saw of him. He seemed to be feeling a lot better these days, and I was glad to see that time did him well. "Captain! Front and center- time for the locker room pep-talk!"

From behind his tall and muscular teammates, clad in padding and uniforms, Ashton stepped forward. He and I were locked in a quick glance when he shot me a wink that made me weak in the knees.

"Do I need to grab a mop?" Calum leaned down and whispered into my ear, an impish tone underlining his soft voice.

"What?" I gazed at him with confusion. Calum didn't verbally speak, only smiling at me with mischief radiating in his eyes. When I finally understood the innuendo I gasped, smacking him in the chest with the back of my hand. "You're gross, Cal."

Calum snorted, and attempted to stifle a laugh as Ashton approached us both. With a grin, he grabbed my hand and pushed me forward.

"I think Coach Karris should give us the speech," Ashton suggested and my eyes widened with shock.

"What? No-no-no-no," I shook my head rapidly, waving my hands to reinforce my aversion for accepting Ashton's invitation.

"Come on, Karris! Do it!" Michael encouraged. "I bet you'll be more of an inspiration than our Captain."

"Yea, he sucks at these things!" Luke pipped up.

Ashton shot him a deadly glare, "fuck you Hemmings! I saw you cry a little during my last pep-talk."

"I wasn't crying!" Luke argued passionately. "I rubbed Hot Cheeto dust in my eyes!"

"I don't think that was Hot Cheeto dust, mate," Michael rested a supportive hand on his teammate's shoulder. "Didn't you hook up with Bella Christiansen that day? Bet there was some other kind of residue on your fingers."

"You're a foul piece of shit, Clifford," Luke shoved Michael, who only laughed hysterically.

I felt the skin on my body heat up. Despite the fact that I was no longer a virgin, these sexual insinuations still made me feel awkward and I was two seconds away from blurting out an alpaca fact.

"Boys! Enough!" Coach's voiced boomed through out the locker room. The deep, boisterous tone caused me to smile because it reminded me of being a part of this team. With an exhale, Coach's irritation-laced tone switched to one of hope.

"Karris?"

I glanced at Coach Benson, "yea?"

"Will you do the honor of giving your team the start of game speech?" He asked again, a hopeful tone weaved within his voice. With a reluctant sigh, I nodded my head, and the locker room bursted into animated jeers.

"Babydoll," without warning, my feet were suddenly swept off of the ground.

A theatrical gasp fell from my mouth as my limbs flailed in the air. Ashton's hands were attached to my hips, lifting me onto a nearby bench. When I stood on top of it, I had the best vantage point to address the team. My eyes darted from player to player as they all stared back at me with encouraging expressions. I exhaled heavily, letting my cheeks puff out and hot air to blow around my lips.

Here goes nothing.

"Willowridge Thunderbirds- this game is yours!" My voice gracefully pounded with command. The first words words that fell from my mouth, became the same words that illuminated spark within my boys. "This championship match and a trophy for the tenth consecutive year belongs to you. Not just because of your skills on the ice, but because of your heart, and the passion that flows ferociously through it. This game is yours for the taking and I know you will take it with with pride, grace, and class."

"What a badass," Michael was at an awe, holding a hand to his heart.

"That's my badass," Ashton beamed.

"You boys live in a special place in my heart. You gave my twin brother a home," I continued, thriving off of the inspiring fervor that surrounded us all. "You gave him friends; people he can count on. And when he left you all, leaving a void in your heart, I tried to weasel my way into this family. It was a rough beginning- I'll never look at BBQ sauce the same way again."

I paused, raising an eyebrow at Ashton who cowered and sent me a sympathetic smile.

"But through the ups and downs we shared, you boys have graciously welcomed me into this team, not just as your coach, but as a member of your family. For that, I thank you. So get out out there, put your souls out on the ice, and, excuse my language," I cracked a sly grin, "FUCK! SHIT! UP!"

The boys erupted into a symphony of spirited cheers. They pumped their fists into the air and banged hockey sticks onto the floor. The Willowridge hockey team shouted battle cries, seizing their helmets off of the floor and proceeded to plop them onto their heads. These boys were ready for combat, and without another moment they headed towards the battlefield.

"You're inspiring Karebear," Ashton took a stride towards me, as the last player left the locker room. With a bashful smile, he wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling me closer to him.

"Only because I believe in you all," I breathlessly admitted, delicately resting my arms around his neck. I gazed down at him, using my leverage of standing on the bench to my advantage. I leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lips.

"I missed those," Ashton declared. "And I missed you the most."

"I miss you too. I'm glad that we're trying to make us work," I twisted my body in his arms like a child innocently dancing. He made me so happy.

I ran my fingers through Ashton's head of soft curls, but when I did, I noticed a few strands coated in a sticky substance.

"Ow," Ashton winced, as I tried to untangle my fingers from the glued gob of hair.

"Sorry Ash," I frowned. "What's in your hair? It smells like syrup. Did you aim pancakes in your mouth and missed?"

"Ha ha," Ashton shot me an unamused eye roll. "I think it's caramel syrup."

"Caramel syrup?" I repeated, narrowing my brows in wonder.

"I got a job, baby," Ashton revealed, and my face lit up.

"Wait, what? That's great? Where and why?" I questioned.

"I'm slave making fancy espresso drinks at The Little Blue Cafe," he answered. "All the money I'm making, I am saving up for plane tickets- or the bus, or train. For the rest of the school year, and wherever we each go to college, there will always be a way to see each other."

I was touched. I was severely moved by the boy before me, and I just wanted to rip off his clothes and go at it on this bench. Ashton knew how to tug onto my heartstrings like a classical cellist playing the most angelic melody. He was mine for now, and I hoped it would last till forever. But if for an unfortunate reason we grew apart and were forced to separate, I knew I could walk away knowing that we loved without limitations.

"I love you," I whispered.

"And I love you," he cupped my face in his hands, gazing adoringly into my eyes. Ashton closed the small gap between us, and kissed me tenderly. As much as I wanted to submerge myself in the pleasures of his gentle kisses, life instead wanted to dunk me headfirst into a bucket of embarrassment.

"OoOoOoOo," childish chortles and giggles filled our ears, causing Ashton and I to quickly separate.

The source was none other than Michael, Luke, and Calum. They stood behind a wall, their heads stacked one on top of the other like a totem pole as they peaked around the corner. They snickered amongst themselves, pointing at us in a teasing manner.

"They're so in looove," Calum gushed playfully.

"He totally penetrated her," Luke guessed, a smug expression imprinted on his face.

"A penetration of true love," Michael added and I grimaced.

"Oh you guys are terrible!" I hissed, jumping off of the bench. "Let's go! We've got a game to win!"

"Oo, tell me what to do, daddy," Ashton joked, wiggling his eyes incredulously.

"All of you out!" I snarled, clapping my hands with demand. "Come on, the game's going to start soon!"

The four boys cackled ridiculously, throwing their heads back as they walked out of the boys dressing room. I followed them down the hallway, towards the tunnel where I could hear the rambunctious crowd on the other side of the wall. Coach Benson looked at his team and with a simple head nod, the Willowridge boys began their strut through the players tunnel. The crowd became wild, my ears ringing from their loud cheers as the spectators continued to motivate the team- and by the end of second period, the boys needed all the motivation in the world.

Taft High, reigning from Sacramento, were brutal- their players were relentless, executing innovated plays that caused Willowridge to tremble in their skates. Coach Benson looked through his playbook, while I sat next to him, meticulously observing the Taft team. I eyed them, concentrating on each player till I could memorize their weaknesses and quirks.

Number 33 of Taft High, who I learned was also team captain, had an insane talent on the ice. He skated circles around Willowridge, and unfortunately for us, he was utterly brutal. I watched intently, nibbling on my bottom lip in anxiety as number 33 raced across the ice towards Ashton who had the puck with him. Ashton turned to look behind him, noticing the close trail he had. So, with a swift flick, he charged the puck towards Luke. However, this slowed him down for 0.9 seconds, and Ashton was ransacked into the wall by number 33.

"Ash," I gasped, shooting out of my seat to watch him collapse onto the ice. I watched in concern, dribbling my trembling fingers on my thigh.

Ashton wriggled in pain for a few short moments, but after finding the strength within him, he stood up with no avail. I could sense the determination that rushed through him, and I smiled to myself. When the horn blew, signaling the end of second period, the boys skated towards the players bench. Coach Benson led the boys back into the locker room, where they took off their helmets and threw them onto the ground. I resumed my duties as an apprentice coach, and pulled a cooler around the locker room, passing cold bottles of water to each player.

"Thanks Karris," Michael grumbled helplessly, taking the plastic bottle from my hand.

"Don't give up now, you've got one more period left," I patted his back, hoping he could find the motivation to thrive.

"They're fucking crazy, Coach," Luke looked defeated as he buried his face into his hands.

"Guys, you can't lose hope right now! Taft is up by only two points, you guys can still win this!" I expressed, trying to motivate the team.

"The princess is right," Ashton spoke up. He stood up from the bench, and then stood next to me. "We worked harder than ever this season to not win this. If we beat Taft High, then we'll bring home the championship trophy for the tenth consecutive row. Our families are out there; Willowridge alumni are here, and even past members of the team are sitting on those bleachers in support. We're going back on that ice and fucking shit up."

"Alright," Luke sighed, throwing his arms up in defeat. "What's the plan, Coach?"

"I think we should put Michael back in," Coach Benson suggested.

I grinned at him, "I was thinking the same thing. Did you notice how number 33-"

"-yea, I did," Coach interrupted, nodding his head. "I think Michael should do the-"

"-the thing." I finished with an elated grin.

"I will never understand anything they say," Luke muttered, cocking his head to the side, trying to decipher the conversation between Coach Benson and I.

"It means that I'm a badass, and am superior among you peasants," Michael waved his hand, a dainty touch to his normally deep voice. We all chuckled at the boy before proceeding to run through the play.

The Willowridge hockey team retreated back to the rink, skating across the smooth ice as did Taft High. Ashton and number 12 from Taft met each other at the center for the face off, while I held my breath. To distract myself, I looked around the arena to glance at the lively crowd. I spotted Berkley and Natalia sitting together, each holding neon-colored signs.

The high-pitched shrill of the whistle rang in my ears and my attention quickly averted to the ice. Ashton slapped the puck with his stick, initiating the beginnings of Coach Benson's first play. The tournament continued with such intensity, I was about to urinate my blue panties.

Michael raced towards the Taft net with great speed. It was beautiful the way he glided across the ice with immense determination. He spun on his skates, sailing backwards for several strides, and stealing the punk from number 12. Luke came in at just the right time, keeping the Taft defensemen at bay while Michael dodged their notorious stick checking. With a strike of his stick, Michael passed the puck over to Ashton, who scored effortlessly into the net.

"Yes!" I jumped onto my feet, fist pumping into the air. Coach Benson and I gave each other a high five, celebrating the fact that Willowridge and Taft were tied 6 to 6. I looked at the clock, and there was a little less than 2 minutes left till the end of third period.

It was time to hustle.

As Michael skated passed me, he and I locked eyes for a moment. I nodded my head, telepathically telling him it was time for him to execute the play. I believed in him; I believed in every single one of those boys with my entire heart.

Taft had the puck on their side while number 17 on Willowridge fought against number 33 to take the puck back. When number 17 successfully stole the rubber disk, he passed it over to Luke who initiated the play. That boy was an angelic hockey cherub as he sophisticatedly moved the puck from one end of the rink to the other. Hot yoga sessions had seriously reconfigured Luke's muscles to be more fluid. He was swift in his movements as he skated backwards, and spun completely around number 33. Luke then swept the puck towards Ashton.

Ashton was princess manslaughter on ice skates. He grabbed the passed puck from Luke and continued down the rink towards the Taft net. Two Taft players charged after Ashton, attempting to steal the puck. However, the Willowridge team captain was smooth as butter. Ashton shot the puck through the legs of a Taft player, and within an instant, the disk was back with Luke. The crowd around us cheered, howling with extreme enthusiasm due to the jaw-dropping teamwork executed by the Willowridge Thunderbirds.

"45 seconds left on the clock, come on boys," I spoke to myself, weaving my fingers together and bouncing on the balls of my feet.

Luke was so close to the net and had the potential to make the winning goal. However, that was expected and Taft already had their men ready to defend their goalie. So instead, Luke skated to the other side of the rink. This was a great risk because with many of the Taft players on the Willowridge end, they could've easily captured the disk and scored.

If it weren't for a play we liked to call, the thing.

The puck flew across the ice with rapid speed. There was not even a millisecond to think about the move Luke just pulled, because before we realized what was happening, Michael had caught the puck. This was his moment for the taking; the moment he had been working on his entire high school hockey career. Taft immediately ganged up on Michael, but unfortunately for them, they were a second too late. And that one second advantage was more than enough time for Michael to perform the greatest slap shot in Willowridge hockey history.

"And Clifford scores! Straight into the net by only a hair!" The student announcer broadcasted through the speakers, and crowd erupted into contagious screams of delight. The horn blew, ending third period, and Willowridge High won the championship title ten years in a row.

"Oh my gosh!" I shrieked, jumping up and down chaotically. The entire team threw off their helmets and skated to Michael.

"We just were informed of Clifford's slapshot speed, and you guys will not believe this- at a staggering one-hundred-and-one miles per hour, Michael Clifford has just made Willowridge High history!" The announcer's voice boomed animatedly, echoing through out the arena and I was so close to having a heart attack.

The support of Arden Heights boded in its symphony of cheers. Confetti was thrown into the air, hugs were distributed, and even Taft High wasn't immune to it. Their entire team congratulated each Willowridge player with genuine joy.

"He's got a slapshot faster than you!" Ashton teased.

I threw my hands up in surrender, "I ain't even mad. You guys won! I'm so proud."

"Correction, we won," Ashton clarified with a grin. "This is your team too, Coach!"

"I love you, Thunderbird," I leaned over the barricade to congratulate Ashton with a quick kiss.

"Coach Karris!" Calum screamed at the top of his lungs, waving his hand from the ice. "Get over here, now!"

"Come on babydoll, the team awaits you," Ashton skated to the barricade's opening. As I reached out to grab his arm as support, he quickly lifted me off of my feet and cradled me into his arms. I let out a surprised shriek, but wrapped my arms around Ashton's neck as he skated towards the team.

"This is for the best fucking coaches ever!" Luke yelled, and a moment after, each player flashed a black, aerosol canister in the direction of Coach Benson and I.

"What's that?" Coach Benson eyed the boys suspiciously, but instead of answering vocally, the team replied with action.

Silly string.

The colorful strands that flew out of the canister's nozzle twisted around my body and hair. I cowered into Ashton's chest, letting out a hysterical giggle. When the silly string attack stopped, I lifted my head to take a look at my surroundings, only to defy gravity again. Both Ashton and Luke lifted me upwards, setting me down upon their shoulders. Their strong grip grasped onto my ankles while the rest of the team crowded around us.

"Part of this is yours!" Michael proudly yelled, shoving the championship trophy into my hands.

When I took the shiny object, I was surprised. I gazed at the prize with wide eyes before darting my focus. From Michael, to the rest of the team who all stared at me with encouraging grins, my mind continued to decipher the situation. I still wasn't exactly sure why they wanted me to hold the trophy, but the more my hands grasped the smooth prize, the more did it feel like it belonged to me.

"We did it!" I screamed as loud as my vocal cords would let me, and I raised the trophy above my head. The entire team reciprocated my excitement, shouting back at me with the same thrill. My heart pounded with such great intensity, I swore it was going to thump right out of my ribcage. But this feeling- this wild, overwhelming, out-of-body feeling encapsulated my emotions perfectly.

Life was unpredictable. It was insane, heart wrenching, and joyful all at the same time. The unexpected plot turns gave my soul whiplash, yet caused me to grow and rise up stronger. When Gabe left this Earth, I wasn't so sure if life would ever be normal again. My twin taught me many valuable lessons when he was alive- he protected me as family should, and respected me like a best friend. But even in death, my brother still continued on with his seminar, and became the life coach I didn't know I needed. In both life and death, my twin brother taught me three valuable lessons:

Lesson One:
Family comes in every shape possible.

I had my extremely loud, very loving Filipino family on my side at all times, no matter what. But family means more than just mom, dad, and siblings. Family can be packaged in several different, and unique ways. Family is home. I had a home with Berkley, and in the most unexpected of ways, I found home within the Willowridge hockey team too.

"Coach Karris, you are by far one of the best things to have ever happened to this team!" Coach Benson grinned from ear to ear as he showered me with compliments.

"You made our Senior year the best year ever," Luke gazed up at me with adoration, and I think a solitary tear dribbled from his bright, blue eyes.

"Thanks for always believing in me," Michael rested a hand to his heart. "For always believing in us."

"You're my best friend," Calum joined with a joyous smile that crinkled his eyes together.

"You're family," Ashton finished.

Lesson Two:
Be weird.

Being peculiar was what made me, me. A cookie cutter Tumblr girl with perfectly sculpted brows and a Kylie lip kit wasn't on the Karris Villanueva agenda. It may work for some girls, but for me, a simple winged line and some Hot Cheetos, was all I really needed. Graphing calculators excited me, cheesy pop music was my guilty pleasure, alpacas are my spirit animal, and I could never say no to a mug of hot chocolate. Being weird, and welcoming all bizarreness, was key to living my best life.

"I hope we're all going to get pizza to celebrate!" I hinted with an exaggerated grin. "And some ice cream too."

"Karebear is always hungry," Ashton giggled.

"Feed me or we're breaking up, and there won't be anymore Disney sing-a-longs!" I yelled at him with a pout, however that frown didn't last long because I was way too happy.

"You're weird," Ashton rolled his eyes, flashing me a smirk.

Lesson Three:
Be brave, be honest, and fuck shit up.

Fear in a person is the worst trait the world can see. Fear instigates unnecessary anger and prejudice. Fear causes the mind to work in alarming ways, and causes a person to live a life with limitations. Life was meant to be embraced with no fear. Honesty, towards others and oneself, means acceptance. When you're honest, you accept every moment that life throws at you- the good, the bad, and the stomach aches from consuming too much junk food. When you live without fear you're honest to yourself, and when a soul untainted with dark secrets meets the sunshine, you receive the confidence to fuck shit up.

"Ashton! How does it feel to be the captain that led Willowridge High to its tenth consecutive championship win?" Local reporters were now swarming the team, throwing question after question at each player.

"It's definitely one of the highlights of my life," Ashton declared with pride glinting in his hazel eyes. "I'm never going to forget this moment."

"Was there anything the team did differently from the years prior?" The reporter asked.

Ashton smiled at the reporter before glancing at me. He grabbed my hand and tugged me closer towards him, garnering the attention of the camera crews.

"This is what we did differently," Ashton brandished his arm towards me. "Karris helped coach the team this year, and even though we lost Gabe, he gave us his twin sister. She has a talent for never giving hope up, and an innate ability to always believe. Karris has great skill on the ice, but skills off too- she's the perfect asset to this team and we wouldn't have won this year without her."

I couldn't stop smiling. I was incredibly proud of myself, and feeling incredibly blessed to live this particular life. But the best part about all this, was that my adventure wasn't over yet- it was only the beginning, and I was excited to dive headfirst. I was ready to move forward with a smile etched on my face and a sensible pair of sneakers on my feet. Learning will always be my favorite hobby, and how ever life tests me, I knew I had the ability to pass with flying colors. All I needed was perfect timing, no distractions, and a little faith.

Together with those ingredients, life will concoct the greatest gift: a quintessential, winning slapshot.

the end.

✖

OMG.

It's done-- SLAPSHOT is officially completed. Three years later, one of my favorite stories to date, is finished. This story is definitely my best work yet because I paid more attention to plot, character development, and my writing style overall.

Thank you.

With every fiber in me, thank you. I'd like to say that I have some of the best, most loyal readers ever. Your interactions within the pages are motivating and I am constantly surprised whenever I receive sweet comments because it's like, "holy shit, people actually like what I've written?!"

My heart feels full. Karris and I bid you the most warmest farewell <33

✖

c h a r a c t e r a s k
If you guys want it, inline comment some questions

» Karris

» Ashton

» Berkley

» Michael

» Luke

» Calum

» Tegan

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