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Burning Ice (by: Acmed)

Posted Apr 14, '12 at 10:26pm

acmed

acmed

1,921 posts

Chapter 11: The Cold War

    Grant lost the faceoff against the Jaguars. The puck skidded back to one of the defenseman. As he glided back slowly looking for a pass to one of his forwards, Sam Hendrickson came up for a missed poke check. The puck was up the sidelines by Jefferson's left wing, who dumped it to the boards behind Gareth Dickinson and the net.
    Back on the opposite boards were Christian and the Jaguar's left wing battling for the puck. Christian battered it away with his skate to the side, but was intercepted by the defenseman near the blue line. With the team all in position, the defenders passed back and forth, swaying up and down looking for a pass. Grant Sullivan and the Jaguar's center were pushing and shoving in front of the net, battling for a screen.
    Finally without any success in the slot, Jefferson's defender shot a rocket to the net, which missed slightly to the left. Christian got control of the puck and moved along behind the net. With a burst of speed, he moved across to the right side, but was caught up in a jam after a pass had hit Jefferson's forward. With the Jaguar's in control now, 2-on-1 breakaway, the men up front slipped a perfect pass right behind Christian's legs for a one timing shot that landed just underneath the crossbar. A pass so good, the league's best goalie couldn't catch up to it.
    With only 2 minutes scratched away in history for the battle of Jaguars and Eagles, Jefferson leads 1-0.
    As for the rest of the 1st period, it was a horrid sight to see for Hillside fans. Only shooting 5 shots in the period, the Eagles gave up another 2 goals. Apparently the Jaguar's puck movement was too fast for the great Gareth Dickinson.
    The first goal given up was a pass back to the 4th line defender by Ryan Roberts (who played for a whole 1 minute). With frustration still in his head, he flew the puck back as if it were a backhand shot. The unexpected Gareth the goalie didn't see his stupidity coming and was forced to give up an easy goal.
    The second goal given up was actually because of a shot on goal for Michael Lambert. The puck was passed back to the blue line for the defender's stick was a slap shot to the center of the goalie's chest. With the traffic in front of the net, Michael had to **** his head to see if it went in. During his investigation, the 1st line right wing for Jefferson collided into him like a train off its tracks. With Michael on the ground and the puck cleared to Hillside's net, the same forward came up with a breakaway with a snipe to the top left corner of the net.
    The Hillside Eagles walked into the locker room with heads held down and complete silence. Coach Adkins blurted out when everybody was nice and facing towards him with a simple, "What the hell kind of game are you guys playing out there?" Nobody answered the obvious rhetorical question.
    After the short pause, Coach then started the putdowns, "Michael, if you get hit and on the ground, get the heck back up! You basically watched that goal happen!" Michael said nothing.
    "Grant, you need to look at the puck during the face-offs! Stop staring at the dot and keep your eyes on the puck! You're losing every single one!" Grant said nothing.
    "Gareth," Coach's voice narrowed down a bit now, "Catch up to those shots, boy. You're gonna leave us in embarrassment."
    Gareth was the first one to say something, "I can't, Coach! They're too fast for me!" A pause was initiated after that, "Can Ben play this period or something?"
    Ben shot up from the bench and was standing right next to Gareth in no time. Coach sighed and looked down at the floor, thinking. Finally he raised his head, "If you can't play against them, you go give your spot to Ben then."
    With Ben beaming preparing to shake his head yes and Gareth about to ask him, the almighty Ryan Roberts swooped in faster than Ben did before, "Don't even think about it, Gareth!"
    Everyone looked at him, even Ben, who had taken a lot of crap from him the other day.
    "What are you talking about, Roberts?" Gareth replied, "I can do what I want."
    "I'm the captain of this team and I'm doing what is best for the team. The score is 3-zip out there and you're giving up? You shouldn't be giving up, especially with that little punk as a backup. You will go out on that ice and play."
    Gareth, unlike before, then said nothing. Michael stood motionless trying to think of something to say to Ryan, but all the scenes he pictured in his head were not pretty when it got to the ending. The buzzer sounded once more for the 2nd period. The Eagles put their hands in and cheered one last, "TEAM!" before they spilled out onto the ice. Ben however, walked the slowest and was the last one to sit on the bench. If Michael wasn't starting again, he would've had another one of those self esteem talks with him again.
    The dropping puck was won by Grant this time and Hillside was in possession. Jason Clark brought it back and passed it up to Michael. With a burst of speed blowing past the Jaguar's forward, Michael went up the sideline and dumped the puck. It was recovered by Sam Hendrickson and passed back out to Grant in front of the net for a one timer snapshot that deflected off the goaltender's blocker.
    With the puck passed back to Michael looking for something to open up in the middle, he passed to his right to Jason Clark. Jason passed to Christian wide open in the slot with a blast that just got into the goalie's glove. The Eagles on the ice went out for the 2nd line men. Michael sat next to Ben on the left side of the bench.
    "So how much of a ******* is Ryan, now?" Ben asked immediately.
    Michael shrugged, "Pretty high, I guess," Michael elbowed Ben in the arm, "At least he's getting the playing time he deserves." The two shared a laugh.
    The roughing penalty against the Jaguars got Jefferson fans quite enraged, but wasn't good enough to convince the ref. The power play crew came out on Jefferson's side of the ice. Luckily, the group had Michael and Grant. Unfortunately, Ryan's small playing time was used in the PP.
    Grant was on fire in the faceoff circle after coach's talk, like he put some sort of spell into his reflexes. The tired and worn out Gareth Dickinson was also getting some large breaks because of it (Which gave better chances for the team, but not for Ben's playing time chances).
    Hillside is known throughout the league with their with their master offense, but a side of that, they had a pretty crappy overall puck handling skill. Sure, there were some players who were good at holding onto the puck, so they were on the power play unit... and Ryan.
    With Grant back on left wing and Ryan in the faceoff dot, Hillside lost the faceoff after 7 consecutive wins by Grant Sullivan. The puck was cleared right and then for Michael and Jason to chase after. They brought it back up to center with great care, but when Michael received the pass from Jason Clark for a routine dump, he didn't do it. He dared himself in his head to do something un-defender like.
    He approached the waiting forward who attempted a poke check to Michael for the puck. Coach Adkins yelled from the bench, along with the rest of the Eagles. With the a smirk on the Jaguar's face, he looked behind the defender for the puck. He blinked hard a few times because he couldn't see it. He saw it a second later: Flying over his hockey stick which landed perfectly in front of Michael's.
    The crowd was in woe, the teams were in woe, and even Michael was in slight woe. He brought it up the slot, even though the Jaguars were supposed to defend, things were too fast for them. It was Michael vs. Goalie, or, to be more accurate, Jaws vs. A boy caught in the water.
    3-1 Jaguars. The crowd roaring. Michael looked up to see Jackie cheering her head off. Pumping her fist, clapping her hands, and looking at Michael the whole time. Michael glanced back to his approaching teammates for the goal hug. Ryan went right back to his seat on the bench, waiting for another penalty on the other team.
...
    The period ended with another goal by the great Michael Lambert and a blast by Sam Hendrickson, both from rocketing into the slot like the other team weren't even present. 3-3 at the end of the 2nd period. It was time for the 3rd period, however, where everybody was bringing their best game. Or as most of the high school hockey players call it: 3rd period playtime.

Chapter 12: Playtime
    The first half of playtime was the most boring period known to the fans. It consisted of both teams taking much effort from their offense, and putting it to their defense. This just caused 10 consecutive minutes of the puck being turned over back and forth in the neutral zone. The crowd was so quiet you didn't even have to rock the cradle for a baby to fall asleep.
    Midway through the period, the teams realized their plans failed, and played equally for both sides. Michael had already had 2 penalties in the period due to all the defensive chances he was receiving. One for roughing and one for interference (Michael claims, "He started it!").
    Gareth's 2nd period vacation was over, as the Jaguars were in control of the puck most of the time. He blocked shot after shot after shot, all to avoid letting down his team. He had really wished he would've ignored Ryan and give Ben his spot. He knew well that he deserved it.
    The period went on with close shots and calls, with one side of the crowd biting their fingernails on at least one of the sides of the ice. It was constantly for both teams, shot-save-shot-save-shot-freeze. After that you can hear everyone exhaling their breath simultaneously.
    It was then, the most important part of the period, and possibly the game. 5 minutes remained, and the ref rose his hand for the penalty call against Jefferson. Rather than a regular two minute penalty, the call against the 1st string defender for the Jaguars was a double minor (4 minute) penalty for back-checking that was hit on Grant Sullivan. He was hit from the back against the board, but the way he hit the board was the worst part.
    Grant had yet to realize that his arm soreness that occurred to him a few days before had caused his arm to be a lot more vulnerable to hits. The check from behind gave him to time to prepare for impact against the glass, which hit him right in the arm. When he hit the ice and didn't get up for a few seconds, everyone knew something was up.
    After the ref himself, Michael was the first one to aid Grant to his side. Coach Adkins came out, too, but he led him into the locker room right away with his arm around his shoulders. Play started immediately after Christian came back out onto the ice for the power play replacing Grant.
    Under 5 minutes remained in the game, and the scoreboard has stayed frozen at 3-3. The puck dropped for the final battle in Jefferson territory, and the "great" Ryan Roberts came an hour late on the jolt for the puck. After the clear up the side boards by the Jaguars, Michael was the first to speed towards it near Gareth and the net.
    He brought it up quickly with no time to spare. He failed to find a pass to anyone on the sides and center, so decided to dump it off the sides. Dumping it, however, required him to go through two players defending on the blue line. The Jaguars were now aware of Michael's ability to get across others now, and were prepared on defense.
    When the check against the defender happened, it was like magic when his back instantly hit the ice after the blow. Michael's eyes were visibly wide open from the moon when he was laying on the ground. The puck was cleared.
    It happened for another 2 minutes. Approach, check, clear. Jason was exhausted from covering his zone and getting the puck, but it seemed Michael kept trying. Like he wouldn't give up until he got past that blue line.
    Coach was now yelling at him constantly now, telling him to pass to Jason before he screwed it up. It wasn't until the 5th turnover that Michael was sat out. He approached the bench with his head down as Terrell Martin, a junior who was the only black player on the team, came out onto the ice.
    Jackie from the stands was yelling noticeably by everybody in the arena on why coach put Michael out. Ryan himself, was paying the most attention. He looked at Michael in pure anger, as Michael was still looking in strange irony at Jackie. Ryan wanted something to be done.
    1 minute and 30 seconds left in the period, everybody ready for the puck drop near the Jaguars blue line, Jefferson's center getting burned by the fire in Ryan's eyes. When the ref opened his hand for the puck to be released, Ryan jolted forward to knock down the helpless Jaguar to the floor while one of the defenders got the puck. He didn't get off the center until everyone cleared into the Jaguar's defensive zone. The center stood up to the dumbstruck Jaguar and before he left, he gave a good point to his face, like there was more where that came from. Michael was sitting on the bench watching the whole thing, as scared as the grounded Jaguar was.
    1 minute left, Terrell at defense looking for a pass in any of the lanes. The power play was over, but Ryan was still out. Behind the net was Ryan, waiting for a path to open up. The Jaguars were tight on him, and surrounded him, not letting him out behind the net, like a wolf pack circling their prey. Knowing precious time is being wasted, he did the one thing that he knew best to do.
    Ryan Roberts blew past the man on his left side, sending a huge wave of energy of his shoulder as he whipped around in the slot. Terrell saw the open area and passed it right in front of Ryan's stick. It was like Ryan sent a spell in the goalie's eyes when he shot the puck, because the glove came to the area of where the puck was way too late.
    The game ended with the winning goal by Ryan Roberts, 4-3 Eagles. First win of the season.
    Everyone except the Jaguars and their fans were on their feet cheering. Ryan was stampeded by the rest of his teammates on the ice for a victory celebration. He showed no return emotion though. Michael couldn't see him himself, but he did happen to notice something just outside the crowd. Michael lowered his hands and look closely at the finger pointing directly at him.

Chapter 13: This Boy
    Michael was getting back into his street clothes again in the locker room, but was speeding to be the first one out of there. Ryan didn't talk to him, but Michael knew vengeance was going to be endured. He was just about to leave when he heard a roar come from the center of the locker room.
    "Aight, e'erybody!" Terrell Martin yelled, "First game celebration party at my house!" The team gave another victory roar, except Michael, who got out of there quickly. Terrell saw that, too, and went after him.
    "Ayo Lambert!" He said approaching Michael, "Hell of a game tonight. Really saved us."
    Michael shrugged, "Thanks I guess..."
    Terrell put a hand on his shoulder, "Ay listen, you're my light skinned brotha', man. So I'm telling you this with my heart. Don't worry about Ryan. You can take him! You're a defender! Got it?"
    Michael nodded his head, "Got it."
    "Aight, brotha'. So, you gonna come t'night?"
    "Sure, I guess."
    "Sweet, man. Catch ya later." Terrell walked away, when Michael shouted back at him again.
    "Terrell!"
    Terrell turned back, "What?"
    Michael raised a fist into the air towards his direction for a fist bump. Terrell gave him the most funniest look ever.
    "Stop bein' so white", he said, and left as Michael lowered his fist.
   
    Michael arrived at the hospital with his mom to see Grant. It was only a small sprain, but still had to wear a cast. The doctor said he would be out for hockey for 2 weeks. Michael just retold the rest of the game to Grant while he sat up on the hospital bed. Mrs. Sullivan and Mrs. Lambert were talking outside.
    "So", Grant said, "Anything happened with Jackie?" Grant still knew that something occurred the previous night, but still was eager to know to aftermath, "Was she, like, mad?"
    "Umm...", Michael hesitated, trying to find the words for it, "No. She actually seemed a lot more interested in me than I was..."
    "Wait wait wait..." Grant interrupted, "MORE interested than you? You were absolutely crazy for her".
    "I know! But when her and Ryan broke up before the game, she couldn't keep her eyes off of me. Ryan got so mad, that's how he scored the last goal."
    "This is a strange, demented story"
    Michael laughed, "Definitely. And to continue it, we're going to Terrell's party tonight."
    "A girl AND a party?" Grant asked, "You deserve a reward, Mike". He paused for a quick minute until he came to a fatal question, "But wait. What if Ryan's there?"
    Michael shrugged like it wasn't even a threat, "I don't care. Besides, you can be my bodyguard."
    "Why would you want an injured bodyguard?"
    Michael pointed to Grant's blue cast, "That is a tool of both offense and defense my friend."
    "But what about Jackie?"
    Michael sat there and didn't say a word and thought of something to make the new subject. He didn't have to say anything to give a clear answer to Grant.
    "You still like her?" Grant asked with a laughing smile.
    Michael put on his best fake denial face he knew, "Psh! No! What are you talking about? I don't... like her..."
    "You so do, man! I can see it!"
    "Shut up..." Michael replied punching Grant in the arm. Michael held his fist right after though and gave a loud, "OW!".
    Grant laughed hysterically. He lifted his casted arm, "You're right. This is pretty good defense".

Finished 3 chapters from and to Chicago. Hope you like it!

 

Posted Apr 15, '12 at 12:01pm

SoccerGirl27

SoccerGirl27

139 posts

Its been so long since I've read this and I love this last 3 chapters. They're awesome...even though I can't understand any of the hockey language, but keep it up! Can't wait to see more

 

Posted Apr 27, '12 at 11:47pm

zakyman

zakyman

1,588 posts

Very nice. I just had a looooooong week and this was my first chance to enjoy these chapters. I would suggest that you do not use as many hockey terms, as I felt myself a bit lost at some points in the story. However it is good writing and I look forward to the next installment!

 

Posted Jun 4, '12 at 9:30pm

acmed

acmed

1,921 posts

Chapter 14: Somebody to Love
    Terrell had always been a popular guy at Hillside High School. He was the 2nd linesman for defense on the varsity hockey team, but was mostly known for his "kickass" parties. He was a junior, but awfully popular with all the grades and invites anybody he knows. He hosts them roughly 2 times a month, sometimes for the most pointless and smallest things just to get away with it (His best example was when he invited half the school to a party based on his little cousin's tooth falling out. His parents didn't even know that).
    He was the only black kid on the team, which in most cases was a bad thing to the African Americans in the school (they don't even talk to the white students at Hillside). But since Terrell was one of the nice and non-racial black men in the school, he was friends with all races in the school (or more knowingly, his black and white skinned brothers). Grant had to explain to Michael of the fact.
    "He calls everyone on the team his light-skinned brother". The forward explained, laughing in pity, "He claimed me that after I picked up his dropped book. He has no other nickname for us."
    "Why?" Michael asked.
    "Because there's no other black guys on the team". And they left their conversation at that true note.
    The two friends finally were on their way to their first Terrell Martin hosted party, and their first party in general. Excitement, fear, eager, and hopelessness battled in the two's stomachs. Michael though had to convince his mother for an hour to let him go. As much as she wanted him to go out and have a bigger social life, she was suspecting something strange to come. Already she sees him waking up late and depressed, a better attitude about school, and a random girl screaming his name in every play during her son's hockey game, all of which do not go together until she knows some sort of back story.
    Michael was feeling unusually good and eager about heading over to Terrell's house, even though the fact of two forces that have a chance to completely change his high school journey might be there. He forced Grant to walk because he already knew that the Fiesta was not the most manly thing one could own. As much as he was mad at Jackie the previous night, he somehow still wanted to impress her.
    Blasting Michael's iPod, the two sing an off melody of Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, or in which cases to most teens, "the girls who sing We Will Rock You". Michael is angered by the new music out these days, mostly because of the so called "innovation" of pop culture known as dubstep. He smiles at the fact he wins every argument about it in his head.
    "Mama! Just killed a man! Put a gun against his head, pull my trigger now he's dead!" The two sang at obnoxiously loud voices. They were smiling, though the concept of the lyrics were kind of brutal. They quieted down the closer they've gotten to the house, until Michael placed his Nano back into his jean pockets when they stopped in front of the two story house.
    With the door wide open, you could be a mile away to already hear the sounds of sex, alcohol, and drugs being established in that very house. Some at the same time! Grant looked in doubt into Michael's eyes, but gave him a swift message that everything will be fine. Grant still held his opinion.
    Michael and Grant didn't know what to comprehend the sight when they walked in. They summarized a few things: coach pillows and a certain liquid everywhere, bras hanging from the closet, and penguin sliding down the stairs. Before they had to revise anything about that, Terrell Martin, the heart of the party, slid in their line of view to greet them.
    "What's up mah light-skinned brothas!" He welcomed, with Grant and Michael holding in an explosion of laughter, "Welcome to mah humble abode. Make yourselves at home mah homies!"
    And so they did. The two made themselves at home by sitting down on the couch with red cups of Coca-Cola talking about the game. Though the two thought this was how fun was supposed to be, Terrell had interrupted them before they could even start talking.
    "Let me rephrase myself gentleman", he started, "Make yourselves at home as if yo' parents weren't home".
    "Like peeing with the door open?" Grant asked. Michael nodded with agreement as Terrell rolled his eyes.
    "No! I mean, just have some fun, guys. Seriously." He exited the living room to mingle with the more "into it" people. Grant and Michael lay there helplessly trying to figure out what the "cool" thing is to do at a party.
    "We'll cancel out the options of sex and alcohol at the moment" Michael offered, "Mostly because I can't find Jackie anywhere".
    Grant looked at him in pure stupidity, as if he were wearing an I'm With Stupid shirt pointing up, "We haven't moved from this couch since the moment we've gotten here!"
    "Yeah, I know," Michael replied, "It's filthy, too..."
    "That's what I'm saying! We need to get up and do something. We need to have fun! Get noticed in school from something that isn't hockey related."
    Michael shrugged, "I guess we can try."
    "Good job, kiddo. And besides, what reputation do we have to  lose?" Grant said, laughing at the sad fact of it. The two got up and started to mingle. If mingling in your definition meant walking around in circles in the house and trying to find someone interesting to talk to, the two were a social hit.
    Grant had convinced Michael to talk to a pair of brunette girls he had caught looking at them. Michael agreed, but failed miserably as he told the famous Arm Bent Backwards story. The women had left after the 5 word of his tale.
    After that incident however, they came across a guy who happened to have the largest amount of social interaction with them so far that night. The name of the man was Peter. His last name claimed by him is Skywalker.
     He approached the two casually, but didn’t come off as casually, “Hello outsiders.” He started. Grant and Michael exchanged looks with each other and turned their attention back to the freak.
    “We’re not ‘outsiders’, dude,” Grant replied, “I’m Grant Sullivan, and this is Michael Lambert.”
    “And it is I, the mighty Dragonborn that the Greybeards call Dovahkiin! Gaining power to defeat world-eater Alduin!” The man smiled in glee, “Of course I’m just horsing around. The Elder Scrolls series is obviously a fictional masterpiece. I’m Peter Sadusky, though you may refer to me anytime as the Dragonsoul-Slayer.” Peter had explained thoroughly with an unbelievable straight face.
    Michael stared at him until he realized he wasn't joking, "Um. Okay, Peter. It's a pleasure to meet you, I guess. Not to be rude or anything, but, uh... Why are you here?" Michael asked as non ******-like as possible.
    Peter ****ed his head in confusion, "I'm not fully understanding your recurring question. Could you specify?"
    "Well," Michael stuttered, "You aren't on the team."
    "Well neither is many other people at this hoedown. I just tend to get the latest fact here and there at post school events. You know, 'catch up with the crowd'," He laughed slightly and pointed his finger (which had a Green Lantern ring on it) at a couple by the TV, "I walked into those two having sexual intercourse in the bathroom not 10 minutes ago," Peter nodded his head, agreeing with himself of the disappointment.
    "Not surprising, it's a high school party." Grant explained.
    "Why yes, but you'd think our brains would've fully developed to know what's right and what's not," Peter pointed out a tall fellow this time, "That man was taking a shower in the master bedroom bathtub while simultaneously getting orally seduced by a female. Don't believe she had the smarts up there to know what she was doing."
    "Dude, we get it," Grant said aloud, "There is sex at a party. We understood before we walked in. Anything non-sexual that you saw?"
    Peter had to think back for a moment, "Partially. In the basement. I saw this one girl crying next to two other girls making out on the couch. She was probably just heartbroken by all that love."
    Michael shot up as if he actually cared for what he was saying, "Wait, who?"
    "I'm not sure. I think they were both Emilys. Pretty funny, eh? But they were very intoxicated on alcohol if you ask me..."
    "Not those girls! The crying one! Who was she?"
    "Oh, her," Peter thought for a moment, "Either a Jacqueline or a Venus. Either way, she had blonde hair and fantastic bone structure!"
    Michael immediately glanced at Grant, "That's her!" He exclaimed and burst off down the hallway. Grant wasn't nearly as excited, so much that he stayed with Peter.
    "So, Grant, what position do you take on the ice?" Asked Peter, trying his best to be interested in sports talk. Grant tried not to laugh at his attempt.
    "I am the starting left wing. Today though I was center." Grant explained.
    Peter ****ed his head in a realization kind of way, "Oh yeah! You were the one who had injured his arm during today's game! The doctor was wise to put a cast on it."
    "Wait, you were at the game?" Grant asked.
    "Yes. Again, I try to engage social activity by going to after school activities. Besides, my math teacher was giving extra credit to anyone who gave full statistics for any type of sporting event. Did you know  how many times the puck was hit in the 3rd period of play?"
    Grant did this for long enough, and interrupted abruptly, "Were those girls making out downstairs hot?"
    Peter ducked his lips in thought, "By a standard of sexually attractiveness, yes, I agree the two were 'hot' I suppose..."
    Grant clapped his hands in satisfaction, "Great! I'll see you later!" He left with Peter to interact with two jocks by the door, who he later lectured them on the importance of alcohol abstinence.
    Grant Sullivan rushed downstairs past a few guys throwing around a coach pillow filled with something unknown and to possibly not wanted to be known. He bumped into a back of another man facing the direction of the red couch in the corner of the unfinished basement. The man was Michael, staring blankly into the sad eyes of Jackie Westbrook.
    Michael turned around, to the also disappointed Grant who had missed the two Emilys engage in a tongue war. Michael sighed, "What do I say to her?"
    Grant gave a half hearted thought, "Just think up something. I have to go scavenge for two drunken girls before sunrise." He left on his treasure chest, as Michael stand still, looking at his gold. Before he could think of anything good, Jackie had caught his eye and smiled on one side of her mouth. Michael was forced to come closer.
    He plopped down next to her with eyes of comfort. His throat had choked up in fear and was stuck just looking into her pupils. This, however, got Jackie to talk, which in only this scenario, was a good thing.
    "Hi Michael." She simply said.
    "Hi Jackie." He replied. He awaited a long awkward pause to commence, but Jackie kept the conversation alive.
    "I'm really, really sorry about the other night. I didn't mean to offend you or your friend. I just like you. A lot." Jackie looked into his eyes, better yet, Michael's soul looking for an answer.
    "I...", Michael quickly went over the consequences in his head. Ryan and his gang pounding him each day for the girl he long wanted, or staying in the shadows forever, regretting his missed chance. So many variables under so many circumstances battled throughout his brain, "I... Um...".
    As if Jackie had gave him an answer for him, she leaned close to Michael's face until their lips had gently touched. Michael was blacked out for a good 5 seconds until he began to kiss her back. He had never felt the feeling of another tongue before, and never will he regret it. He wrapped his hands around her body, maneuvering her around his massive erection. She did the same, pushing her weight onto him until they fell onto the couch cushions, stomach to stomach.
    Michael's live fantasy was short lived after a big blow to the cheek had interrupted his encounter with Jackie Westbrook. He turned his head in rebound, all blurry. He squinted and made out the figure of Ryan Roberts standing over his body.

(;

 

Posted Jun 4, '12 at 9:38pm

acmed

acmed

1,921 posts

Chapter 14: Somebody to Love
    Terrell had always been a popular guy at Hillside High School. He was the 2nd linesman for defense on the varsity hockey team, but was mostly known for his "kickass" parties. He was a junior, but awfully popular with all the grades and invites anybody he knows. He hosts them roughly 2 times a month, sometimes for the most pointless and smallest things just to get away with it (His best example was when he invited half the school to a party based on his little cousin's tooth falling out. His parents didn't even know that).
    He was the only black kid on the team, which in most cases was a bad thing to the African Americans in the school (they don't even talk to the white students at Hillside). But since Terrell was one of the nice and non-racial black men in the school, he was friends with all races in the school (or more knowingly, his black and white skinned brothers). Grant had to explain to Michael of the fact.
    "He calls everyone on the team his light-skinned brother". The forward explained, laughing in pity, "He claimed me that after I picked up his dropped book. He has no other nickname for us."
    "Why?" Michael asked.
    "Because there's no other black guys on the team". And they left their conversation at that true note.
    The two friends finally were on their way to their first Terrell Martin hosted party, and their first party in general. Excitement, fear, eager, and hopelessness battled in the two's stomachs. Michael though had to convince his mother for an hour to let him go. As much as she wanted him to go out and have a bigger social life, she was suspecting something strange to come. Already she sees him waking up late and depressed, a better attitude about school, and a random girl screaming his name in every play during her son's hockey game, all of which do not go together until she knows some sort of back story.
    Michael was feeling unusually good and eager about heading over to Terrell's house, even though the fact of two forces that have a chance to completely change his high school journey might be there. He forced Grant to walk because he already knew that the Fiesta was not the most manly thing one could own. As much as he was mad at Jackie the previous night, he somehow still wanted to impress her.
    Blasting Michael's iPod, the two sing an off melody of Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, or in which cases to most teens, "the girls who sing We Will Rock You". Michael is angered by the new music out these days, mostly because of the so called "innovation" of pop culture known as dubstep. He smiles at the fact he wins every argument about it in his head.
    "Mama! Just killed a man! Put a gun against his head, pull my trigger now he's dead!" The two sang at obnoxiously loud voices. They were smiling, though the concept of the lyrics were kind of brutal. They quieted down the closer they've gotten to the house, until Michael placed his Nano back into his jean pockets when they stopped in front of the two story house.
    With the door wide open, you could be a mile away to already hear the sounds of sex, alcohol, and drugs being established in that very house. Some at the same time! Grant looked in doubt into Michael's eyes, but gave him a swift message that everything will be fine. Grant still held his opinion.
    Michael and Grant didn't know what to comprehend the sight when they walked in. They summarized a few things: coach pillows and a certain liquid everywhere, bras hanging from the closet, and penguin sliding down the stairs. Before they had to revise anything about that, Terrell Martin, the heart of the party, slid in their line of view to greet them.
    "What's up mah light-skinned brothas!" He welcomed, with Grant and Michael holding in an explosion of laughter, "Welcome to mah humble abode. Make yourselves at home mah homies!"
    And so they did. The two made themselves at home by sitting down on the couch with red cups of Coca-Cola talking about the game. Though the two thought this was how fun was supposed to be, Terrell had interrupted them before they could even start talking.
    "Let me rephrase myself gentleman", he started, "Make yourselves at home as if yo' parents weren't home".
    "Like peeing with the door open?" Grant asked. Michael nodded with agreement as Terrell rolled his eyes.
    "No! I mean, just have some fun, guys. Seriously." He exited the living room to mingle with the more "into it" people. Grant and Michael lay there helplessly trying to figure out what the "cool" thing is to do at a party.
    "We'll cancel out the options of sex and alcohol at the moment" Michael offered, "Mostly because I can't find Jackie anywhere".
    Grant looked at him in pure stupidity, as if he were wearing an I'm With Stupid shirt pointing up, "We haven't moved from this couch since the moment we've gotten here!"
    "Yeah, I know," Michael replied, "It's filthy, too..."
    "That's what I'm saying! We need to get up and do something. We need to have fun! Get noticed in school from something that isn't hockey related."
    Michael shrugged, "I guess we can try."
    "Good job, kiddo. And besides, what reputation do we have to  lose?" Grant said, laughing at the sad fact of it. The two got up and started to mingle. If mingling in your definition meant walking around in circles in the house and trying to find someone interesting to talk to, the two were a social hit.
    Grant had convinced Michael to talk to a pair of brunette girls he had caught looking at them. Michael agreed, but failed miserably as he told the famous Arm Bent Backwards story. The women had left after the 5 word of his tale.
    After that incident however, they came across a guy who happened to have the largest amount of social interaction with them so far that night. The name of the man was Peter. His last name claimed by him is Skywalker.
     He approached the two casually, but didn’t come off as casually, “Hello outsiders.” He started. Grant and Michael exchanged looks with each other and turned their attention back to the freak.
    “We’re not ‘outsiders’, dude,” Grant replied, “I’m Grant Sullivan, and this is Michael Lambert.”
    “And it is I, the mighty Dragonborn that the Greybeards call Dovahkiin! Gaining power to defeat world-eater Alduin!” The man smiled in glee, “Of course I’m just horsing around. The Elder Scrolls series is obviously a fictional masterpiece. I’m Peter Sadusky, though you may refer to me anytime as the Dragonsoul-Slayer.” Peter had explained thoroughly with an unbelievable straight face.
    Michael stared at him until he realized he wasn't joking, "Um. Okay, Peter. It's a pleasure to meet you, I guess. Not to be rude or anything, but, uh... Why are you here?" Michael asked as non ******-like as possible.
    Peter ****ed his head in confusion, "I'm not fully understanding your recurring question. Could you specify?"
    "Well," Michael stuttered, "You aren't on the team."
    "Well neither is many other people at this hoedown. I just tend to get the latest fact here and there at post school events. You know, 'catch up with the crowd'," He laughed slightly and pointed his finger (which had a Green Lantern ring on it) at a couple by the TV, "I walked into those two having sexual intercourse in the bathroom not 10 minutes ago," Peter nodded his head, agreeing with himself of the disappointment.
    "Not surprising, it's a high school party." Grant explained.
    "Why yes, but you'd think our brains would've fully developed to know what's right and what's not," Peter pointed out a tall fellow this time, "That man was taking a shower in the master bedroom bathtub while simultaneously getting orally seduced by a female. Don't believe she had the smarts up there to know what she was doing."
    "Dude, we get it," Grant said aloud, "There is sex at a party. We understood before we walked in. Anything non-sexual that you saw?"
    Peter had to think back for a moment, "Partially. In the basement. I saw this one girl crying next to two other girls making out on the couch. She was probably just heartbroken by all that love."
    Michael shot up as if he actually cared for what he was saying, "Wait, who?"
    "I'm not sure. I think they were both Emilys. Pretty funny, eh? But they were very intoxicated on alcohol if you ask me..."
    "Not those girls! The crying one! Who was she?"
    "Oh, her," Peter thought for a moment, "Either a Jacqueline or a Venus. Either way, she had blonde hair and fantastic bone structure!"
    Michael immediately glanced at Grant, "That's her!" He exclaimed and burst off down the hallway. Grant wasn't nearly as excited, so much that he stayed with Peter.
    "So, Grant, what position do you take on the ice?" Asked Peter, trying his best to be interested in sports talk. Grant tried not to laugh at his attempt.
    "I am the starting left wing. Today though I was center." Grant explained.
    Peter ****ed his head in a realization kind of way, "Oh yeah! You were the one who had injured his arm during today's game! The doctor was wise to put a cast on it."
    "Wait, you were at the game?" Grant asked.
    "Yes. Again, I try to engage social activity by going to after school activities. Besides, my math teacher was giving extra credit to anyone who gave full statistics for any type of sporting event. Did you know  how many times the puck was hit in the 3rd period of play?"
    Grant did this for long enough, and interrupted abruptly, "Were those girls making out downstairs hot?"
    Peter ducked his lips in thought, "By a standard of sexually attractiveness, yes, I agree the two were 'hot' I suppose..."
    Grant clapped his hands in satisfaction, "Great! I'll see you later!" He left with Peter to interact with two jocks by the door, who he later lectured them on the importance of alcohol abstinence.
    Grant Sullivan rushed downstairs past a few guys throwing around a coach pillow filled with something unknown and to possibly not wanted to be known. He bumped into a back of another man facing the direction of the red couch in the corner of the unfinished basement. The man was Michael, staring blankly into the sad eyes of Jackie Westbrook.
    Michael turned around, to the also disappointed Grant who had missed the two Emilys engage in a tongue war. Michael sighed, "What do I say to her?"
    Grant gave a half hearted thought, "Just think up something. I have to go scavenge for two drunken girls before sunrise." He left on his treasure chest, as Michael stand still, looking at his gold. Before he could think of anything good, Jackie had caught his eye and smiled on one side of her mouth. Michael was forced to come closer.
    He plopped down next to her with eyes of comfort. His throat had choked up in fear and was stuck just looking into her pupils. This, however, got Jackie to talk, which in only this scenario, was a good thing.
    "Hi Michael." She simply said.
    "Hi Jackie." He replied. He awaited a long awkward pause to commence, but Jackie kept the conversation alive.
    "I'm really, really sorry about the other night. I didn't mean to offend you or your friend. I just like you. A lot." Jackie looked into his eyes, better yet, Michael's soul looking for an answer.
    "I...", Michael quickly went over the consequences in his head. Ryan and his gang pounding him each day for the girl he long wanted, or staying in the shadows forever, regretting his missed chance. So many variables under so many circumstances battled throughout his brain, "I... Um...".
    As if Jackie had gave him an answer for him, she leaned close to Michael's face until their lips had gently touched. Michael was blacked out for a good 5 seconds until he began to kiss her back. He had never felt the feeling of another tongue before, and never will he regret it. He wrapped his hands around her body, maneuvering her around his massive erection. She did the same, pushing her weight onto him until they fell onto the couch cushions, stomach to stomach.
    Michael's live fantasy was short lived after a big blow to the cheek had interrupted his encounter with Jackie Westbrook. He turned his head in rebound, all blurry. He squinted and made out the figure of Ryan Roberts standing over his body.

(;

 

Posted Jun 8, '12 at 6:41pm

Darktroop07

Darktroop07

668 posts

You can't stop surprising me acmed keep up the good job XD.

 

Posted Jun 13, '12 at 4:20pm

acmed

acmed

1,921 posts

Chapter 15: That Boy
    Michael didn't technically push Jackie off his body, but rather she had maneuvered her own in a different direction to route an easy escape for him. He jumped up, but didn't run. More in fact, he couldn't run. His heart was pounding as the big ex-boyfriend put a paralysis spell on his legs. Worst of all, his cheek still hurt.
    Ryan grinned in a pitiful fashion, "Well," He began, "Ain't this a **** surprise." The grinned was away now, leaning in closer to pounce on his prey.
    "Ryan! Leave him alone!" Jackie exclaimed, getting in between the two. This was Michael's chance to quietly back off.
    "He stole you from! That ****** stole you from me!" Ryan was now turning red, like a crimson Hulk.
    "Ryan, remember your breathing exercises? Breath in through your nose..." Jackie was interrupted before she could demonstrate the exhale. He skidded past her shoulder and stomped up the stairs to the future crime scene of Michael's dead body. The defenseman only had a pure 5 seconds to get his so little army together.
    A clear path was shown between the two hockey players. One side was the arrogant and big Ryan Roberts, and the other side had Michael- Fearing his life. Grant, Michael's only hope, had moved off to the side, making bets with Peter. Even Ryan's allies were gone. Maybe Michael was intimidating after all. But apparently not enough for Ryan's satisfaction.
    The big bag center squinted his eyes in anger. "You get me suspended for the game, and you steal my girlfriend. You're just making your own poison at this point, pal."
    The music had stopped, and this would be the highlight of the whole house. Michael's plan was simple: run like hell. But Ryan's plan was much too similar: run at Michael.
    The defenseman awaited his fate. He waited for the right chance to flee. He knew Ryan was faster than him and couldn't escape without him downed. He needed to escape with him down. He needed to fight.
    Before anyone saw it coming, Ryan charged. Jackie, watching from the side, shielded her eyes at the soon to be disaster. Michael stood motionless, eyebrows outward each time a second past. He wasn't prepared for this whatsoever. He closed his eyes, blinding himself from the horrific view of his death as Ryan was 1 foot away from him.
    It hit. There was loud gasp in the filled room. But, Michael didn't feel anything. Maybe I'm dead, Michael thought. But it turns out Ryan didn't hit him. In fact, no one hit him. In double fact, Ryan got hit. Hard. The real question on Michael's mind was by who?
    He opened his eyes to see a dozen pairs of others'. They weren't looking in his line of view, but slightly to the left of him. He saw Ryan. Down. Ryan down. He saw Ben. Ben? Ben. It's Ben! Up. Ben up. Ryan down, Ben up. Ben hit Ryan. I'm a genius, Michael thought.
    Michael looked into Ben's angered and yet satisfied eyes in confusion, "What are you doing here?"   
    His answer was quite simple, "You save my ***, and I'll save yours." He looked at the staggered Ryan Roberts and back at his friend, "Run."
    Michael didn't. Jackie made him. She firmly grasped his hand in a totally non-romantic way (Michael liked to think otherwise). Grant decided to follow also, as he wasn't going to take the risk of staying. He wanted to live just as much as Michael did.
    They sort of ran, it was like a fast paced jog. They assumed Ryan wasn't going to get up anytime soon. They ran for at least a block until they started to walk. Grant just walked awkwardly behind. Then they started to talk.
    "Michael, I'm so sorry about that." Jackie finally said, "That escalated very quickly. I don't even know why that happened."
    The defenseman shrugged, "I told you. He's insane."
    They shared their first laugh of the night. Finally. Grant spoke up to break his odd presence, "I'm going to go home if you don't mind. I mean, WALK home." Grant shot a look at Michael and they laughed briefly. The forward left Michael and Jackie in the night.
    "That was Ben who hit Ryan, wasn't it?" Jackie asked. She didn't seem mad about it, in fact she sounded a little happy about it oddly enough.
    Michael nodded his head, "Yeah".
    "Why'd he do it?"
    "He's my friend. We watch each other's backs."
    The two paused. It was starting to get a little tense. Jackie made it even more awkward, "I guess I don't know what it feels like."
    Michael knew what she meant, but couldn't hold it to ask, "What do you mean? You're one of the most popular girls in the school".
    "That doesn't mean I have true friends that care for me." She said quietly. She sighed, "Being popular just created fake friends for me."
    Michael didn't know what to do. The talking part of the relationship had commenced too fast for him, "Well, are you happy?" He asked hopefully.
    Jackie smiled, "With you I am."
    Michael replied, "How cheesy," Jackie giggled.
    "Hey, my parents aren't home," Jackie began. Michael's eyes popped out in awe, "Do you want to watch a movie?"
    Another boner was about to pop up, "Like what?"
    "I have the Green Lantern."
    Michael was shocked, "YOU like the Green Lantern?"
    "Yeah," Jackie said, "I'm allowed"
    "Why?"
    "Why what?"
    "Why do I deserve you?"
    Jackie giggled, "You don't", she shot him quick peck on the cheek and they walked home hand and hand.

 

Posted Jun 29, '12 at 7:37pm

acmed

acmed

1,921 posts

Well, after a long while of procrastination and thinking, I realize my writer's block has permanently stopped me from any more writing of the novel. Even if I could, the plot is still unorganized and I don't think it's going anywhere. I'll be working on other, much smaller projects that are suitable for my skill.

TL;DR: The book will remain unfinished.

 
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