Be There | A Dwayne Robertson Fanfic ✔️

New Kids

I smile on the inside as I skate over to a line of four other kids, who must be new. There's a large group of seven kids across the way, all wearing green jerseys that have a duck on them. I stand next to a boy wearing a blue and red jersey that says "South Miami".

"I didn't miss anything, yet, did I" I ask him.

He turns around, and he has dark brown hair and light brown eyes, with tan skin. He's pretty good-looking. "Nah, you're good," he answers.

"Thanks," I smile, and he nods, turning his attention to the two men walking towards us. One is Mr. Tibbles and the other, I assume, is the coach. He has short brown hair that he pushes out of his eyes, and he's wearing a full red, white, and blue track suit that says Coach Bombay. Assumption confirmed.

The coach points over at us, "Tell me about my new kids."

The boy next to me skates up. "That's Luis Mendoza. He's from our Miami club," Mr. Tibbles explains as Luis begins skating around. "He's a real speedster, incredible skater. I clocked him 1.9 seconds' blue line to blue line." Damn he is fast. Luis is demonstrating his speed, which is real amazing. "There's one minor problem," and as Mr. Tibbles says that, Luis crashes into the wall. Ouch. "Has a little trouble stopping."

All four of us skate to him and help him up off the ice. "Yeah, I'm good. I almost had it that time." I hear chuckling and glare at the group on the other side.

"Yeehaw!" a new voice rings out. I can't see what he looks like, since Luis is blocking my voice, but all I see is a cowboy hat get tossed aside. "How's everyone? Ya'll ready to play some puck?"

"That's Dwayne Robertson from Austin," Mr. Tibbles tells us. The kid, who I can finally see since Luis moved, is juggling the hockey puck on his stick and between his legs. His jersey is orange and says "Crockett" on it. "He's the best puck-handler I've ever seen."

"You mean for his age?" Coach questions.

"No, I don't," Mr. Tibbles answers.

"Hey, this is easier than roping hogs! Yeehaw!" Dwayne says, causing me to laugh. He looks up slightly and smiles at me. I look away and hope to God that he didn't see my cheeks turn red. He wasn't supposed to hear that.

"He does have a tendency to showboat," Mr. Tibbles finishes.

"Wow," Coach whispers as a girl with sandy blonde hair moves into goal. Her red and white jersey has "Bangor" printed on the front of it.

"There's Julie 'The Cat' Gaffney. She won the state championship for Maine three years in a row." That's impressive.

"We have a goalie, Goldberg," Coach explains, looking at a chubby kid who moved into goal.

He starts talking, but I can't hear him well, then he falls into the splits which looks painful. "Watch this," Mr. Tibbles says as Julie starts blocking every shot taken. Good for her.

"Well, we could use a backup," Coach nods. Backup? She should be starting, not your chubby goalie who can't control where his legs go. "Isn't that the kid from the Olympics? The figure skater?" Coach motions towards the Asian boy with the white and orange jersey on.

"Yep. Ken Wu. What can I say? I convinced him that hockey had more of a future. We put a stick in his hands and no one's been able to touch him," Mr. Tibbles looks proudly at the boy.

I skate forward since Dean hasn't shown up yet. "Who's that?" Coach asks, signaling Mr. Tibbles to me.

"Ah, that's Meg Por-," he's cut off by Dean skating in, music blaring through his headphones. I roll my eyes at my brother's behavior. Can't he cooperate for once?

"Showtime!" Dean yells.

"That guy's a teenage?" Coach looks flabbergasted at my brother. I know, I know it's shocking. He's huge.

"Don't you know, everything's on fire!" Dean sings, knocking some of the kids down. Please stop, please. His Morgan Park jersey, which matches mine, is ripped and the sleeves are gone.

"Uh, yeah, hormones," Mr. Tibbles nods, a disapproving look on his face. Kill me now.

"He's a goon," Coach glances at him as Dean shoves another kid down.

"C'mon Tex! Sing it with me!" Dean shouts as Dwayne, who looks horrified, shakes his head frantically. My reputation has gone down the toilet. Dean tosses a stick to Julie. "Here you go, sweetie."

Coach shakes his head slightly. "My kids don't play that kind of hockey." His attention is now on Mr. Tibbles and not my brother thankfully.

"I believe they're called 'enforcers', Gordan. When you play Iceland, you're gonna need him," Mr. Tibbles responds.

Dean picks up Ken and sets him on the goal. "Hey! My little man!" Dean skates over to me and makes a quick move toward me that would make anyone flinch. I just stand there, a dull expression on my face.

"How is she not scared of him?" Coach points at me and the exchange that just happened between myself and Dean.

"That's Meg Portman, his sister," I notice all eyes on me when he says that and I instantly curse Dean for causing a scene. "She's a strong shooter and a spectacular defensive asset."

Dean continues to cause havoc, and suddenly the goalie, Goldberg I think, skates over, yelling at everyone. The whole group starts fighting with everyone, while I hang back and avoid it.

"Not the fighting sort, huh?" A Texan accent rings out to me, and I remember the laughing incident that happened a few minutes ago. I turn around, and I'm greeted with the face of Dwayne, where I can finally see what he looks like. Which is anything but ugly.

He had auburn-brown hair that falls across his forehead, and his eyes are chocolate brown. His ears stick out slightly, but that makes him all the more cute. He has a round face and his lips are curved into a smile. "No, not really," I say, thinking of the yelling that I heard when my parents would fight.

"That's okay. Me either," He hold out his hand. "I'm Dwayne," he says, even though he knows I know already.

"Meg," I shake his hand before he pulls it away. "Sorry about my brother," I apologize for Dean, knowing he won't ever do it.

"It's alright. Besides, you shouldn't be the one apologizing for him," he answers. The group ends up near us, and suddenly I have a short dark-skinned boy, and a taller kid with strawberry blonde hair yelling in my face. I roll my eyes as the boys tell me off, but Dwayne calmly says to them, "Relax, alright. Just relax," as Coach blows a whistle.

"Everybody freeze!" Coach shouts, stopping the mass amount of fighting happening in the center of the ice. "Now, we didn't come here to fight! We came here to play hockey! We're Team USA, you represent your country!"

Mr. Tibbles smiles and nods, while standing next to Coach. "That's right!"

Coach glances at him before continuing, "Now I want you-,"

"To be all that you can be, right?" Mr. Tibbles shakes his fist around while Coach glares at him. "You gotta raise yourself up, guys." Mr. Tibbles stops when he sees Coach's face, causing us to laugh at them.

"Alright, let's start with a scrimmage," Coach tells us, raising his whistle to his mouth.

"Great, scrimmage," Mr. Tibbles blows his whistle, and I don't even know why he has one. "You heard your coach," he pauses. "Hey, you don't need me here. I've got an appointment anyway. I've got to see Miss McKay. She's the team tutor."

Mr. Tibbles starts walking off the ice. "Don," Coach calls, holding his hand out. "C'mon." Mr. Tibbles removes his whistle and places it in Coach's palm. "You'll get it back at the end of the school term," Coach says seriously, earning laughter from us. "Alright, Ducks. Show 'em what you got! Let's scrimmage!"

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