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☁︎︎☀︎︎☁︎︎
I heaved a long sigh, keeping my eyes forward as I watched the Hawks practice before the game. They ended up falling onto a gliding figure that belonged to a familiar brunette boy, a boy I knew oh so well. My cheeks glowing red when I realized that I was going to be versing against the boy I've had a crush on since kindergarten, the one and only Adam Banks. I knew that he played for the Hawks but I was hoping that he miraculously wouldn't be here, but obviously that wasn't going to happen.
I didn't have much faith in our skills compared to theirs, no offense to all of my friends and my sister, we're definitely going to take another loss today. The Hawk boys all had new, coolandreal hockey gear. They also actually knew how to make the puck go into their opponent's goal or stop it from going into their own.
We only had plastic helmets, flimsy shirts that had our numbers duck taped on the front of our shirts, my number being 55, with our last names scratched in black sharpie on our backs. It was like a last minute DIY that failed miserably. I bit my lip, fixing my gaze down at my worn out hockey skates in embarrassment. This wasn't going to be fun at all.
I glanced up when I heard the blades of someone's ice skates skid to a stop in front of our bench, Larson and McGill came into view, the most aggravating boys I have ever met, taking off their helmets and observed our homemade uniforms with disgust.
"Hi, ya girls!" Larson snorted, my eyes rolling back at the annoying boy. McGill flashed a toothy smirk my way, making my face turn into a scowl, he always knew how to get on my nerves.
I waved a hand in front of my face, plugging my nose as if it reeked, "Good god, it smells like fish over there!" Pointing a finger directly at the cocky boy, his smirk dropping from his face, "I-I think it's coming from you McFish- sorry! I mean, McGill." I pretended to gag and fake throw up, making my friends and my sister cackle at my actions, throwing pats on my back as if I achieved something big.
Watching Larson and McGill turn sour at my words was amusing, making it my turn to smirk. The boy huffed before skating away, his friend following closely behind, making me feel somewhat proud of my actions.
After that altercation, I found myself getting thirsty, "I'm gonna go get a drink. Connie, you want anything?" I asked, looking back at my sister who was still giggling with Guy.
She nodded, "Yeah, sure. Oh, can you get me a red gatorade?!" Connie asked, excitedly.
A couple of the boys asked for the same as well as some peanuts for us to snack on before the game, "Yeah, I'll be right back guys," I turned away from my friends and strolled towards the snack bar, my stomach lowly growling underneath my thin jersey.
