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    Topher Lydon
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Carter's Army - 20. Chapter 20

December

 

Will had wanted to say something, anything, but Andrew had flashed him an apologetic look before he raced after Charlene. Will slumped against his locker; he had known it would happen, he had tried to protect Andrew from it, they had even had a warning in the form of Mister Greenwood surprising them. But they had still been reckless, begging for exactly that situation.

Will glanced at his watch, there was still half an hour left to lunch and he knew it would be one of the longest half-hours of his life. He felt all the old tensions flooding back, despite his victory over Todd. It would be forgotten in light of this latest bulletin of gossip.

What should have been front-page news was now going to be buried as a much larger story broke. Charlene owed them nothing; she thrived on being the one in the know. And a bombshell like that would set her centre stage socially for the rest of the year. There would be no denying it, once she spread the news it would be taken as gospel despite all Andrew's protests and denials.

Will sighed as he slammed his locker closed in frustration. It was all so utterly pointless, and were it not for the fact that Andrew was still there, he would have left. Gone home and hid for the duration of the Christmas holidays. But he couldn't just abandon Andrew to the rumour mill; he owed it to him to stand by him just as Andrew had stood by him.

He emerged from the stairwell, returning to where he had left Jared and Lisa. They were both still talking when they saw him approach. The look of concern was mirrored on their faces when they read his face. They both realized something was terribly wrong.

"What is it?" Lisa asked, dashing to his side and insisting in helping him into a seat. She was back to fussing over him again.

He stared at her blankly for a moment, "She saw us."

Lisa gave him a strange look, not quite comprehending what he was saying, "Who saw you?"

"Charlene saw Andrew and I..." he stopped, realizing Jared was standing just behind Lisa, he looked up apologetically.

Jared digested the information a moment, and Will could see he was mulling over why someone seeing Andrew and Will would be a cause for concern. It was like turning on a light bulb; as soon as he realized the implications, Jared's eyes became as wide as dinner plates.

"I have to talk to her," Lisa said, and before he could stop her she too was gone.

Jared looked awkwardly like he wanted to be somewhere, anywhere else at that moment. Will felt a pang of sympathy for him, it was a lot to take in, to suddenly learn that his best friend and the guy he looked up to were... No, Will corrected, that wasn't the look; it was the look that said. 'You both kept this from me, am I a total idiot?'

Will had to say something, "Jared I..."

Jared wasn't listening; he took off his ball cap and ran a hand through his hair. "Man, I knew there was something going on, I just... oh man..." he collapsed into the seat opposite Will and gave him one of those 'dude!' looks.

Will nodded, "Yeah..."

The news wasn't out yet, he was still getting a mixture of looks from people who passed through the cafeteria, and some seemed impressed he had managed to stand up for himself. Some of the younger kids were even giving him looks of awe, appreciation for what he had managed to do. Still there were others who looked at him with thinly veiled disdain, but there were no vicious words thrown at his back now. Not for the moment at least.

Jared was still shaking his head, wrestling with the news and Will let him work through it. Glad to let his bruises rest, he sank into the chair and rubbed his tired eyes. He looked a right sight, but he wasn't about to let rumour do what Todd Gadreau's fists couldn't. He wasn't about to run away and give up.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you..." Will said with sincerity.

Jared shrugged, "You did, dude, I just wasn't listening." When Will frowned he shrugged, "My dad is always saying there is more to a conversation than words. The clues were right there in front of me, but because it was Andrew I just ignored them..." he sighed, "but it does explain why he is so protective over you."

"Yeah," Will said dryly, "well it's out now, and pretty soon everyone's going to know."

Jared looked over at a couple of freshmen who were staring in awe at Will; he turned back, "Well, look on the bright side, you're a hero for the time being."

Will stood up, "There's a saying, there is nothing as boring as yesterday's hero."

Jared patted his arm, "Yeah I'll remind you of that tomorrow," Jared grinned, "Doing anything for Christmas? My folks don't go in for the whole big day thing, but wanted to know if you were doing anything Boxing Day." He nudged Will, "Leftover turkey... and it's the start of the Junior National Tourney." He grinned, "Nothing says Canada like strapping on some skates, picking up a blade and hitting the ice..."

Will rolled his eyes, Canadians and their hockey rituals, "I'll be there, bud."

Jared grinned, "And no getting ideas, just 'cause you're a puck bunny..."

Will started, "I am not!"

Jared leaned in with a grin, "You're dating a hockey player, dude, that makes you a puck bunny."

* * *

It was nearing the end of the day. And for Andrew that would be the defining moment. He had been unable to catch Charlene, which had given her a full two periods in the early afternoon on the last day of school before Christmas. He tensed as the last few minutes of Greenwood's English class trickled away. He was not so much nervous as he was anxious. He hated to feel anxious, but as usual he covered it with a thick layer of self-confidence.

There was a game that evening; they were being let off last period and the school was ferrying all the students down to the arena to watch the game. The last game of the year and everyone was supposed to be excited about it.

The bell rang and he stood, tucking his book under his arm as he stuck his hands into his pockets, exchanging a simple nod with Mister Greenwood as he left the auditorium and headed out to his car.

No one said anything to him, everything was quiet, and the big disaster he had expected hadn't happened yet. Anticipation was one thing, but when it proved anti-climatic...

He collected his equipment bag from the back of the car and walked through the doors into the lobby area of the arena. He could have avoided the game, feigned being sick, found a quiet place to hide and wait out the rest of the day. But that wouldn't be him. He couldn't simply let them beat him like that; show them that kind of fear and they would be all over him like rabid wolves on a wounded tiger.

This wounded tiger still had his claws.

He squared his shoulders and kept his eyes proud and high. Will's words were ringing in his ears from that first night in the car, 'you're the Andrew Highmore...' and he wasn't about to let Will down. He made a silent statement as he surveyed the lobby, the students who were already there, their lowered whispers and stares that were directed towards him. They were expecting him to cower; they were expecting him to run.

He arched an eyebrow as he sauntered past them heading for the changing rooms, nodding to surprised faces that couldn't quite believe his defiant attitude. What did they expect - an apology from him? Well he wasn't about to give them that satisfaction.

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

The game was with another Ottawa Valley team, an old rivalry that had turned into a yearly final game tradition. The Storm against the Hillcrest Hawks was going to be a tough game, they didn't need distractions. Of all the days for the news to break.

He set his jaw; as he walked into the locker room, Jared was there strapping on his pads and he gave his team captain a supportive smile. But it was the only one. There were looks from some of his teammates that were a mixture of disappointment, disbelief and one or two looked at him as if he had died. They were waiting for something, anything from him by way of an explanation.

The tension in his locker room was thick; Todd hadn't bothered to show, expected after his embarrassment that lunch hour. But the others were watching him, some trying to keep themselves covered with towels awkwardly. So much for no distractions.

He changed in silence, strapping on his skates, thinking about what he could say to them, what kind of explanation did he owe to his own teammates? He was their captain, they needed him, but more importantly they needed to believe in him.

He stood up and picked up his stick and rested on it looking at each of his men. Did he just tell them? Did he lie? What did he owe them?

Jared stood up and pounded his pads with his goalie stick, "I'm with you Skip!" he said in a forceful way, "let's get 'em."

There was a murmur of half-hearted agreement from the team, and they made their way out onto the ice. Jared hung back a moment to stare into Andrew's eyes, "we need you out there," he said as if reassuring himself that Andrew would still be himself on the ice.

Andrew nodded and emerged onto the ice for the pre-game warm-up.

There was a thrill to being on the ice, he was there to do battle; this wasn't going to be a typical game for him, this was where he proved he was still the same player he had been before. He wasn't going to be defined by who he loved; Will was an extension of him. He needed to prove himself all over again and the C on his chest suddenly felt very heavy.

* * *

Will was standing in the coffee shop area of the arena, wrapped up in a scarf and gloves holding onto a cup of coffee, drawing warmth through the thin styrofoam as he looked down from the large windows over the ice.

The players were taking their positions waiting for the puck to be dropped, and Will found he was nervous. He had chosen to stay in the coffee bar's windows, it let him watch without being down with the main crowds. He couldn't handle that at that moment; he still ached, and he was developing quite the black eye from his fight with Todd.

He held his breath as the puck fell.

It was clearly a competitive game, and the Storm had control of the puck early. The Hawks were a good team though; they seemed to learn fast, and saw that there was something wrong with the Storm line. It was as if teamwork had suddenly become non-existent; Andrew swept down the ice, but his team wasn't with him... And as he found himself alone facing the Hawks' defensive pair, Will winced as Andrew was checked into the boards.

"Relax," Brody said appearing beside him. He had his arm around Lisa who gave him a reassuring smile, "just remember 'a un but'," he broke into French, his voice raising in pitch.

Will nodded and gripped the rail as he stared down at the ice. Despite his team, Andrew was skating like nothing was wrong. He pointed and directed his teammates as if he expected them to obey. And grudgingly Will could see they obeyed, but it was a struggle of wills, and it was as if Andrew was playing against his own team as well as the Hawks. Will noticed that Andrew was playing defensively, keeping the Hawks from scoring, but without his team he couldn't go on the offensive. Will was amazed at how effortless he made the game look, while Jared blocked every slap shot that got through.

It wasn't until the last few moments of the first period that Andrew burst into action, exploding from the bench on a line change to scoop up the puck from a sloppy Hawks pass. He deked the puck around, sweeping it from side to side as he moved with blinding speed. The slap shot was long, and from an unexpected angle.

The arena exploded into cheers as the red light lit up. A goal.

"Wow!" Will exclaimed in utter shock as the period ended.

"Un But!" Brody yelled dancing around behind them, "La Lumiere est rouge!"

Will shook his head in disbelief, "I can't believe it, how did he do that?" It had been blindingly fast, but there was no doubt it had been Andrew alone who had scored.

"It was a good goal," Lisa acknowledged, she touched his arm, "But they can't keep playing like they have been. That was a lucky goal..."

Will nodded, watching as the Storm made their way off of the ice heading for the locker rooms. He hesitantly looked towards the stairs that would take him down to the locker rooms.

Brody caught the look and shook his head, "He needs you up here, Dude. Down there, he has to do that himself."

Will looked down over the crowd of students who were leaning expectantly on their seats to watch their team, Andrew's team, playing for them. Will knew what Brody was saying, even though Andrew had nothing to prove to him. He sensed this was more important than just a game. This was Andrew's chance to prove something to everyone.

He realized he had begun to pace the length of the great windows, waiting for the next period to begin, Brody and Lisa giving him concerned looks. It was a feeling of futility that had seized him. There was nothing he could do, no way he could help and that made him angry.

He tensed as the two teams retook the ice, folding his hands into the small of his back. He looked over the two teams in the way his father had taught him to do. Read their body language, watch how they react to each other.

From his vantage the Hawks were confident, they had seen a weakness in the Storm' team play, one they would exploit. The Storm were still disorganized, hanging back, listless.

He could hear his father's voice, adopting a lecturing tone, "It's about morale, lose that and you've lost."

From the outset of the second period the Storm were in trouble; the Hawks pressed an offensive and the Storm crumbled under the pressure. Jared desperately tried to block a rapid succession of shots, Andrew powering to help him, but he was just too late.

The Hawks had tied the game.

"You gotta keep going!" Brody yelled at the glass in frustration, "Bullshit, total bullshit." He turned away in anger.

Andrew slid to a halt before the net, punching Jared's arm lightly with a gloved hand. It was a reassuring gesture, a show of solidarity to the rest of the team. But minutes later the Hawks were back on the offensive.

Will could see Brody was growing more and more agitated, his eyes staring intently at the ice, snorting in disgust every time the Hawks advanced. He mouthed silent encouragement, his hands balled and bouncing on the rail in front of him, as if by his will alone he could will the Storm to play better. He had a fierce competitive streak within him, he loved hockey and he was loyal to what he saw as his team.

He collapsed crestfallen when the ref blew the whistle, sending one of the Storm defensemen to the penalty box. On the powerplay, an already desperate home team was again in trouble. Andrew tried to rally his team, pointing and barking orders. Seconds later the Hawks were up another goal.

Coach Thorburn was up on his bench, bellowing and screaming at his team, pointing furiously at openings. If he could have taken the ice himself he would have, beating some sense into a team that had just fallen apart on him.

Will felt guilt welling up inside of him. This was his fault, if he weren't around this would never have happened. Andrew had control of his team, his team had believed in him. Now one scrawny Brit had managed to do what no other hockey team had managed, break the Storm. As the second period buzzer sounded, he could barely bring himself to watch them skate off the ice. Defeat had slumped all of their shoulders, even Andrew looked beaten.

Lisa was looking at him, and he met her eyes. He shared an emotion-filled look with her, and she knew he was blaming himself. She looked helplessly at Brody.

Brody shook his head, "Andrew has to grab that room and put it together," he said walking back to the coffee bar and ordering a couple of cups, resting his elbows on the bar and scrubbing his face with his hands.

Lisa glanced back at Will; he had resumed his pacing again. He was a nervous ball of guilt and anticipation waiting for the inevitable. She wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault, but when Brody pushed a mug of coffee into her hands and nodded to Will, she understood. This wasn't something any of them could control. It was Andrew's fight, and they were just spectators.

She handed Will the mug of coffee and backed off. Just like Andrew had learned that day that he didn't have to fight Will's battles for him, Will had to learn the same thing about Andrew.

The teams taking the ice for the final period, Andrew did a lazy skate around the ref. Looking up at the window where Will stood, he lifted his stick in a salute then spun on his skates and set up to take the face off. Will felt his stomach clench, and the final period began.

The crowd was on their feet, as Andrew moved with incredible speed; he was a devil on skates, cutting low and around startled Hawks defensemen. He was up again, rushing on the net, giving everything he had. It was an almost inhuman effort, and the crowd collectively held their breath. Brody was up against the glass, pounding on it, screaming at Andrew to make the shot.

The shot sailed past the dumbfounded goalie to tickle the twine and tie the game again.

The crowd went insane, shouting and hollering, even Will felt himself getting into it, the coffee forgotten in his excitement of the moment.

Coach Thorburn called his Storm back at the bench, he was saying something to all of them, and he motioned to the C on Andrew's uniform. He reached out and slapped it with the flat of his palm, gesturing angrily as he turned his back on them, and they slowly skated out to centre ice.

And it was like a switch had been thrown.

"They're getting fired up," Brody observed, a smile appearing on his face for the first time since the game had begun.

The team was sweeping around, they were playing. They followed direction, they kept their positions and the Hawks were suddenly on the defensive as the Storm came at them. It was a game at last, no longer Andrew alone. They were the Storm and they were going to deal the Hawks a hard lesson.

When the final buzzer sounded, there was no longer any doubt, the final goal, scored by Robbie tipping off of a pass clinched the Storm a final, and decisive victory.

Copyright © 2010 Christopher Patrick Lydon; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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