❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜
chapter eight: get in, loser, we're going to L.A.!
tw(s): isolation and overall feeling burnt out.
— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
EMMA IS CURLED up on a wooden bench in front of Mickey's Diner. Her nose is stuck in a vintage copy of The Bell Jar. She knows that she totally disappeared on her friends. She just needs some time to herself. Life has just been frustrating her recently, and she doesn't have the heart to take it out on her friends. So she's been screaming into her pillow and talking to herself late at night because she's the only one who understands. Her friends love the generous Emma, the Emma who shows up on each and every one of their doorsteps on Christmas day with homemade sugar cookies in a festive pastry tin, the Emma that spoils you and buys you your entire birthday list because she had the time. But what will they say about the Emma who stays in bed all day, doing nothing but reading and looking out the window with matted and greasy hair? What will they say about the Emma who doesn't have the energy to pick up the phone, or the Emma who doesn't have them for dinner and a showing of The Outsiders anymore?
When a black limo stops in front of her, Emma is shaken out of her thoughts. The backseat door opens to reveal Bombay and a man she doesn't recognize. The sunroof also pops open and Jesse and Connie's faces appear.
"Get in, Emma," Bombay says. "We're going to play hockey for Team USA!"
"Yeah, Emma, get in! Where have you been? I've missed you so much," Connie says happily.
"Oh, I've just been...around," Emma says quietly. She feels all the more guilty when she realizes how much they've missed her.
"Yeah, well, not around enough for us to see you," Jesse says. "Come in and give us hugs!"
Emma purses her lips and considers it for a moment before sticking her bookmark in between the pages, snapping it shut, and going to join her friends. When they see her, the car erupts with a loud chant of "Hart, Hart, Hart!"
She smiles, but Charlie notices it doesn't quite reach her eyes. His eyes meet with hers for a few seconds over Goldberg's head, and his breath catches in his throat. A light, barely noticeable flutter overtakes Emma's stomach. Emma hasn't seen Charlie in a while. She's missed him, kind of.
There are a lot of things that have changed between them, and what with not seeing him all summer, it's hard to transition naturally, if it makes sense. They used to exchange playful banter, well, playful on Emma's end, and borderline hateful on Charlie's. But now, since they agreed to be friends, where do they go? How do they act? And Emma curses herself for adding one more factor into the mix that just overcomplicates things. After the playoffs, Emma had given Charlie a kiss on the cheek. She wasn't even sure herself if she meant it to be romantic or platonic, so how was Charlie supposed to know? Did he get the wrong idea?
"Em, where have you been, seriously?" Adam asks, noticing the vacancy in her eyes. "I came over once on a Saturday and your mom said you weren't there."
"Yeah, what have you been doing?" Averman chimes in. "I haven't eaten at your house in forever."
Emma's lips twist and she looks down at her lap. The Ducks frown and share looks. This attitude isn't like Emma. She's usually bursting with energy and happiness, so seeing her so downcast is out of character, for sure.
"Uh, nothing much," she says, still staring at her hands. "I, uh, went to my Dad's and Augustine's wedding. So, um, that was...nice. And, um, to what you said, Adam, I probably wasn't there because my dad has me on the weekends. It's a new...arrangement."
The car fills with a pitying chorus of oh and oh, I see. They pat her shoulder and wrap their arms over her torso. She doesn't really feel it.
"Oh, sorry, Emma," Charlie says.
"Oh, thanks. I mean, I guess there's nothing to be sorry about. It's fine. Augustine's fine. My dad's fine," she mumbles.
The Ducks look at each other over Emma's head again with nervous expressions.
This side of Emma is unheard of.
How do they deal with it?
— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
"Tell me about my new kids," Bombay says as a group of players in hockey gear skate in front of them.
"That's Luis Mendoza. He's from our Miami club. A real speedster, incredible skater. I clocked him at 1.9 seconds, blue line to blue line."
"Good lookin' skater," Connie says approvingly as they watch him speed across the ice.
"Very good lookin'. What do you think, Guy?"
"Shut up, Averman," Guy says.
Averman's eyes dart to Emma, who is standing beside Connie. her mouth quirks up a little bit on the left. Averman's brows furrow in confusion. Ordinarily, after one of his jokes, Emma would laugh and throw an arm around his shoulder, maybe ruffle his hair, but her eyes stay trained on the ice.
Emma flinches when the kid, Luis, tumbles into the boards. Clearly, he has a little trouble stopping.
"Yee-haw! How is everyone? Y'all ready to play some puck?" a boy with a country accent asks.
"Hey, look, it's Hopalong Gretzky!"
Emma watches as the boy, Dwayne, juggles the puck around with his stick. Very talented.
A pretty girl, Julie, mans the goal with stealth and sharpness. Emma raises her eyebrows, impressed.
Then, there's an adorable boy, Ken. He used to be a figure skater, but Tibbles convinced him to take up hockey. He still has the figure skating skills in him, though.
And lastly, and secretly Emma's favorite, because she can't lie, he's kind of hot, is Dean Portman. He's a little more than boisterous, though. Emma grimaces as he makes his way around the ice, playing heavy metal music and jostling the smaller kids around.
"Who does this guy think he is?" Fulton asks, annoyed.
A round of bickering starts between the new kids and the Ducks at the thought of being replaced, and Emma stands in the middle, mindlessly, sliding her skates on the ice.
"Hey, you okay?" Kenny asks.
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine."
The whistle shrieks.
"Everybody freeze! Now, we didn't come here to fight. We came here to play hockey! We're Team USA. You represent your country," Bombay says.
"That's right," Tibbles says.
"Now I want you to be-"
"All that you can be!" Tibbles interrupts. "You gotta raise yourself up, guys, you gotta-"
"Hey, Bibbles? It might be time for you to take a hint," Emma says to him.
Bombay starts a scrimmage, and it's safe to say these kids are a hell of a lot better than the Ducks.
Fulton winds up to take a shot, and the other players clear a path for the puck. The puck clangs against the goalpost, bounces off of a series of surfaces, and ends up right on Tibbles' head.
"Oh, Mr. Tibbles, are you alright?" a woman asks.
"Oh, I'll have a cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate shake, please," he says.
"I think he'll be okay. We'll keep an eye on him," the woman says. "Oh, I'm sorry. He didn't have the chance to introduce us. I'm Michelle McKay, their tutor."
"Hi, I'm coach Bombay. Their...coach."
"Who said we need a tutor?" Adam asks, scrunching his nose.
"I don't need no school!" Dean adds.
"Your grammar says otherwise," Emma mutters.
"Now, Ms. McKay," Goldberg says, slinging an arm around her. "We're America's team here. Shouldn't we just be concentrating on hockey? May I suggest...optional attendance?"
"Well, that's not a bad idea!"
"Call me Goldberg."
"Wow, Goldilocks, smooth," Emma says.
"Goldberg. Yes. School will be optional," Ms. McKay confirms. "However, should you not attend, you will not be eligible to play."
Bombay sets them up with the most ridiculous drill ever. He ties them together in a bunch.
"I don't know how to make this any clearer. You are a team. And to win this thing, you have to work as one," Bombay says.
"Well, to have a cohesive team, we can't be in one place all at once, or else we just clear the area for the other team," Emma shoots back, straining against the rope. "Who just touched my waist?"
"Sorry," Charlie says. "I was just trying to get comfortable."
"Oh," Emma is silent for a second. It feels different when it's him. "Well, good luck with that, with our little prison warden."
"Can the snark, Hart," Bombay instructs. "Now, as one, skate."
After a series of embarrassing falls, the team finally gets the hang of it, shuffling awkwardly across the ice in choppy steps.
"You guys are starting to look like hockey players. I'm proud of ya, team. You worked hard today. But hockey should also be fun. Rancher Dwayne?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Round me up some stray cattle."
"My pleasure!"
Dwayne picks up the rope and the others skate away, trying to escape being caught. Dwayne circles Emma, swinging the lasso over his head. He finally loops the rope around her waist.
The rope comes loose around her torso and catches on the blade of her skates.
Emma trips.
She falls.
Thud.
— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
CLARA'S CORNER
i feel like emma, connie, and julie would make such a powerful trio. i wonder what kind of scene i should make with the three of them...
also, as much as it seems like emma's new hardened personality is going to be a big plot point, it's not. i kind of miss writing emma as a sweet, cuddly, character, and it's hard writing her to be so irritable.