𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓼 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮

❆₊˚｡౨ৎ₊˚｡❆

So to start on a very positive note, Bombay had just convinced a man named Mr. Ducksworth to sponsor the team with funds for new supplies, and the excitement in the shop was palpable.

Charlie and Juliet wandered over to the hockey sticks, their eyes scanning the colorful array.

Juliet's gaze landed on a particular stick adorned with pink accents, and she picked it up, admiring it.

"Look at this one, Char! Isn't it so cute?" she exclaimed, twirling it around in her hands.

"Cute? I don't know, Jules. I think it needs more black for a real hockey vibe," Charlie teased, smirking at her.

"Maybe, but this pink would totally match my helmet!" Juliet shot back, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "And it would totally intimidate the other team."

"Intimidate them? With pink?" Charlie laughed. "I think that would just confuse them."

"Confusion is a valid tactic!" she replied playfully, nudging him with her elbow. Just as they were sharing a laugh.

Charlie reached for another stick, but in his eagerness, he knocked the entire stand over.

Sticks clattered to the floor, and Hans whipped his head toward Charlie's direction, his expression a mix of surprise and exasperation.

"My bad!" Charlie called out, trying to save face as he surveyed the mess.

Juliet rolled her eyes playfully but couldn't help laughing. "You really need to work on your coordination, Charlie."

"Hey, it's all part of my charm," he shot back, grinning.

Just then, Guy, Jesse, and Goldberg wandered over, still buzzing from their earlier antics.

"Who is that kid?" Bombay asked, glancing toward the front of the shop where a tall, mysterious figure stood.

"Fulton Reed," Guy answered, a hint of admiration in his voice. "He's in one of my classes."

"Why doesn't he play?" Bombay inquired, curious.

"He only plays football," Jesse explained. "Some preppy school gave him a scholarship, as long as he doesn't play hockey. They don't want him getting hurt."

"I heard it was colleges," Guy added, clearly impressed. "He's already been accepted to four of 'em."

"Yeah, but I heard he's gotta repeat the sixth grade," Goldberg chimed in, snickering.

Juliet glanced at Goldberg and quipped, "As if you're gonna pass sixth grade, Goldberg."

Guy high-fived Juliet, a proud smile on his face. "Nice one, Jules!"

The laughter continued as the team bonded over their playful banter, the spirit of teamwork growing stronger with each moment.

The team entered an ice skating rink, the cool air immediately hitting their faces.

As Juliet looked around, she felt a wave of déjà vu, the familiar hum of skates against the ice triggering distant memories.

Goldberg nudged Peter, eyes wide. "Hey, check them out, man."

Peter's jaw dropped. "Holy cow, they're really good!"

Averman added with a grin, "Yeah, kinda like Juliet, before she got into hockey."

Bombay turned his head, intrigued. "Wait, you used to ice skate?"

Juliet smiled, her gaze still on the skaters. "Mhm, since I was 2. My mom used to take me while my dad took Noah to play hockey. But things changed, and when I was 7, Noah taught me how to play."

Bombay raised an eyebrow, impressed. "So you've got a history with the rink, huh? Do you know any of them out there?"

Terry pointed excitedly. "That's Tommy Duncan in my science class! And that's his sister, Tammy."

Terry's eyes lingered on Tammy, clearly impressed. Juliet, however, rolled her eyes. "I hate that ogre."

Noah chuckled, giving his sister a nudge. "You're still mad about that? You were 6!"

Juliet crossed her arms, a playful pout on her face. "Hey, whoever messes with me on the field—or the ice—is gonna get it."

Bombay, curious, asked, "Wait, what did she do?"

Juliet huffed. "She was such a baby during this competition we had. The judges automatically gave her first place, just because she was younger. I still see her sometimes when I come here."

Bombay chuckled, shaking his head. "So, you still skate?"

"Yeah," Juliet admitted, her voice softer. "Me and my mom come every week or so. Hockey's my game, but ice skating... it clears my mind."

Bombay nodded thoughtfully, turning his attention back to the skaters. "Do you think any of them would want to play hockey with us?"

A chorus of enthusiastic voices chimed in. "Yeah!"

Bombay grinned. "Alright, go get dressed. I'll handle the negotiating."

As the kids scattered to prepare, Juliet shot one last glance at the ice, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation. Maybe things were changing, but one thing was for sure—this team was just getting started.

The team shuffled through the line of cones, each one focusing on their invisible pucks while Bombay shouted out instructions.

"Back to basics! Skating!" Bombay called out, watching them closely. "Go, go, go! Side to side! Shift your weight!"

Noah and Juliet skated smoothly through the cones, earning praise from Bombay. "Atta Andersons, you're both doing great!"

Nearby, Karp struggled to keep his balance. Bombay noticed and encouraged him, "Keep your balance, Karp! Trust your edges!"

Charlie, trying his best, shifted his weight too quickly and tumbled forward onto his stomach. "Oof!" he groaned, frustrated.

Bombay waved it off with a smile. "That's okay, Charlie!"

Juliet, gliding effortlessly on her skates, made her way over and extended a hand to help him up. "You okay, Char?" she asked with a soft smile.

Charlie blushed slightly, quickly getting back to his feet with her help. "Yeah, I'm fine," he mumbled, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Juliet gave him a grin before skating back to her spot, leaving Charlie flustered but determined to keep going.

Coach Bombay set the team up for the next drill, holding up an egg. "Soft hands, everyone! You don't shoot the puck to your teammate—you sail it. Cradle the pass. Karp, on your feet."

He placed the egg in front of Karp's stick. Karp, stiff and unsure, kept his stick steady. The egg immediately cracked, spilling yolk all over the ice. The kids groaned at the mess.

"You don't stop the pass," Bombay explained. "You accept it. Cradle it."

The next few minutes were a chaotic mix of laughter, cracked eggs, and a few successful passes. Charlie managed to cradle one perfectly, but when he sent it back, it splattered all over Bombay's shirt. Charlie looked down, mortified.

Noah and Juliet were doing exceptionally well, handling the eggs so easily that Bombay enlisted their help to coach the others. They skated around, offering tips and encouragement.

Goldberg, still skeptical, skated up to Bombay. "Nice drill, coach. Really very cute. But when are you gonna work with me in goal?"

Bombay grinned. "Goldberg, do you trust me?"

Moments later, Goldberg found himself tied up to the net, arms outstretched.

"My mother would not approve of this, coach," Goldberg grumbled, eyes wide. "She'd like me to live to be bar mitzvah'd."

"This is your bar mitzvah, Goldberg. Today you will become a man."

Goldberg's panic only increased. "Coach, I think you got the ceremonies mixed up! It's more like a circumcision! Coach! What'd I ever do to you?"

Bombay ignored him, turning to the team. "District Five! Ready!"

The kids lined up, pucks on their sticks, eyes focused on Goldberg.

Goldberg's voice wavered. "Oh, man. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die."

Bombay's voice boomed. "Aim!"

Peter smirked. "Nice knowin' ya, Goldie."

"Oh, please! No!" Goldberg pleaded.

Bombay shouted, "Fire!"

The kids unleashed a flurry of pucks toward Goldberg. Surprisingly, Goldberg held his own, blocking shot after shot.

"This doesn't hurt! You wimps!" Goldberg yelled, gaining confidence. "Give me your best shot!" Another save. "I'm a dog! I'm a crazed dog!"

The team began to chant, "Goldberg! Goldberg!"

Goldberg howled, proud and exhilarated. "I am Goldberg! The goalie!"

They started doing their drills again and again . Only this time all of the team managed to complete every single one .

Bombay clapped his hands. "Good, good! All right, Charlie! Good hustle! Conway, way to go. Karp, you're getting there."

As the kids started to relax, Bombay smiled. "You guys hungry? Tired?"

Together, the kids groaned, "Yeah!"

"Do you ache? Are you pumped up?"

"Yeah!" they yelled, more energized now.

"Good! That was a hell of a practice. Be proud of yourselves."