Author's Note: I know, I need to update other stuff. So what am I doing making yet another story? Well…I don't really know. All I do know is that I love it, you'll love it, Mike Dallas is a cutie pie in his own weird ways, and I do not own the gem that is Degrassi. Enjoy! Also, we all know those redheads on the hockey team but I don't think they have names. So I am making up names for the red heads.

Coach's Daughter

Chapter One

"So, what do you think the new coach will be like?" Owen asked, sipping a beer in the vacant room where the hockey team liked to sneak off to kick back.

"I think it's stupid we have to get another coach," Ryan rolled his eyes, popping open a second can of beer, "Does anyone know why he got fired in the first place? Dallas?"

Dallas glanced up from staring at his sneakers that he had propped up on the table they were using, "Huh?"

"Coach," Ryan rolled his eyes, "Do you know why coach got fired?"

"No. All I know is this damn school kicked him out three weeks before the big game. Oh sure they promised they'd find us a replacement, but how do they expect a replacement to just pick up where Coach Roberts left off? We're screwed."

"We don't know that yet," Cam shrugged, "He could be great."

"What is the matter with you?" Owen reached over and smacked Cam.

"Hey," Dallas nodded towards Owen, "Chill. Alright? We're all uptight about this shit. But we just got to chill. Saunders is onto something. We probably should give this new coach a chance before we start tearing into him. I say at practice this afternoon, we all," he glared at Owen as he said, "be on our best behavior."

"Ah, but behaving is boring," Owen rolled his eyes.

"If you want your ass, you're going to behave," Dallas threatened before tossing an empty beer can across the room, "Now, if you ladies will excuse me…"

"Where you going?" Ryan called as Dallas swung his bag over his shoulder and headed towards the door.

"Out," Dallas shrugged, not wanting to share anymore with the guys than he had to. To be honest, they were getting on his nerves. Well, with an exception for Cam. The others were starting to get on his last nerves, and he didn't need anything getting on his nerves this close to the big game.

As he headed down the hallway, he saw a girl walking through the halls glancing at a little yellow slip of paper. She was looking at the rows of lockers, and then back to the little piece of paper. She looked lost. Dallas really didn't want to play good Samaritan, but he decided he'd give it a shot.

"You lost?" He asked the girl.

"Sort of," she looked up at him, and Dallas noticed the deep pools of melted Hershey bars she had for eyes. Freckles dotted her nose, which she squinted up self-consciously once she realized he was staring. Dallas felt a flush work its way up the back of his neck. Damn him and his eyes.

"Where you trying to go?" He asked, snatching the paper from her hands.

"Hey!" The girl shouted, standing on her tiptoes trying to grab the note back. Dallas held it out of her reach though, and a smirk played at his lips. She tried to jump up and grab the paper, but he held it high. He was rather amused. The girl's head only came up to the top of his ribs. Short little thing, thinking she could grab the paper away. It was highly amusing.

"Locker Number 413?" He raised an eyebrow and decided to entertain himself by ruffling her feathers just a tad, "Lucky you."

"What do you mean?" The girl's brow furrowed as she angrily got ahold of, and snatched the note away from him.

"Your locker is right next to the hottest guy in the whole damn school."

"Is that so?" The girl raised an eyebrow, "And let me guess…this guy is you? Very unimpressive. I'd have thought you could surely come up with something better than that."

Whoa. Dallas was taken back. He wasn't quite used to getting those kinds of responses from girls. Normally that kind of line would have made a girl swoon. Who was this new girl? Surely there was something wrong with her mentally.

"Whatever," Dallas rolled his eyes, heading towards the lockers. Homegirl was crazy. But he was a good enough guy to still show her to her locker; but that didn't mean he had to be nice to her exactly while doing so. The girl walked a step or two behind him, and sighed.

"What?" Dallas turned around, "Because I could just not show you where your locker is and you could just spend the rest of the day wandering the halls lost. That's actually pretty tempting."

"Nothing," the girl sighed again.

"Okay, what is it?" Dallas was growing impatient.

"It's just…I was hoping everything I had heard was wrong."

"What…what are you talking about? What did you hear?" Dallas's brow furrowed.

"Just that the Ice Hounds tend to be…well…assholes."

"Excuse me?" Dallas couldn't believe such a dirty word had slipped from the mouth of someone who…someone who what, exactly Dallas? Dallas shook the thought from his head and said, "And where exactly did you hear this?"

"Rumors mostly. I had hoped they were just rumors. You know, I was hoping you guys would break the mold of the typical asshole jock persona. But you, you were the one that the mold seems to have been made from."

"Excuse me?" Dallas was growing angry, "I am not an asshole."

"Yes you are."

"Okay, well then fine. If I'm an asshole, then you're a brat!"

The girl's jaw hung lax and Dallas smirked to himself, "Your locker is the twelfth one down on that end. Have a good one," Dallas turned and headed back down the hallway.

"Wait," the girl's voice broke the silence of the empty halls.

"What now?" Dallas turned around, glaring at her, "Don't you have someone else to pester?"

"I-I don't know where my class is," the girl's eyes fell to the tile floor, and a blush crept across her cheeks. Dallas had no intention of helping her. Not after that previous little comment. Nope.

"I don't make it a habit to help brats," Dallas raised an eyebrow and turned on a heel. But something stopped him.

"Please," the girl's voice sounded desperate, "I am already running late, and I've missed the first couple of periods. Please…"

Dallas rolled his eyes, groaned, and mentally let loose a slew of curses before saying, without turning back around, "Fine. Give me your schedule."

"Thank you!" The girl ran over to him and handed him a pink piece of paper, "Really. I shouldn't have said what I did earlier."

"And why is that?" Dallas decided to tease her a bit, "Because you're genuinely sorry you judged me before getting to know me, or because you are in desperate need of someone to show you to your class?"

"Am I that transparent?" The girl winced, "Alright, show me my class. Prove to me I misjudged you."

"Alright, fine," Dallas glanced at the paper, "Why are you coming in mid-day anyways?"

"My dad had to be at work super early today," the girl blushed and something in her voice told Dallas there was more to that story, "And my mom had a doctor's appointment. No one could bring me until later this afternoon. Why aren't you in class?"

"Oh…" because I was getting drunk with the rest of my dumbass team didn't exactly sound like the best answer, so Dallas decided on, "Uh…going to the restroom."

"Uh-huh," the girl eyed him, and Dallas knew she wasn't the only one that was transparent.

"So, are you going to tell me your name?" Dallas asked, "Or am I going to have to start guessing."

"Oh you're going to start guessing," the girl grinned, "This is going to be entertaining."

"Thanks," Dallas rolled his eyes, "Uh…Emily?"

"Emily?"

"What?"

"Nothing…it's just…a pretty name. I was going to think you were going to pick something awful."

"Should I pick something awful, Vanhelga?"

"Vanhelga? You just made that up!"

"It sounds awful, huh?"

"Horrible. Keep guessing."

"Danielle."

"What?"

"Danielle."

"Are you serious?"

"That's it?" Dallas couldn't believe it. He had actually gotten it right.

"Well, Dani actually. Impressive."

Dallas shrugged and popped the collar of his letterman, making her laugh.

"And your name, according to your jacket, is Michael Dallas: Captain of the Ice Hounds."

"It's just Dallas," Dallas explained, glancing at her schedule again, "So, you have English now. That's with Mr. Pierson. So…you're a sophomore?"

"Yup. And you are?"

"A junior," Dallas explained, "I know Pierson because one of my players is in his class. I hear he's pretty good."

"That's good," Dani adjusted her backpack on her shoulder.

"Hey, you want me to uh…carry that?" Dallas offered.

"It's fine," Dani squinted, "Are you still trying to prove to me you're not an asshole like other jocks?"

"Is it working?"

"Not quite," she smiled softly.

"Well, here it is," Dallas gestured to one of the doors, "Your English class. Will you be able to find the other ones alright?"

"I think so. Thank you, Dallas. I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it," Dallas shrugged, "Just doing my duties as hockey captain."

"Sure," Dani rolled her eyes.

"Hey," Dallas nudged her, "I take it I still haven't proven myself not to be an asshole. How about after practice you and me go grab a burger?"

He could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she thought over his suggestion. Finally she nodded, "Okay. That sounds good."

"Alright. Meet me at The Dot at about seven? Does that work for you?"

"Works perfect. I guess it'll be your treat…to prove yourself," Dani grinned wickedly and something made Dallas's stomach summersault.

"Sure," he shrugged, "Have a good class."

Dani smiled and gave him a small wave before disappearing inside the classroom. As Dallas walked over to his locker, something turned on a light bulb in his brain. When he got to the lockers, he ripped out a sheet of notebook paper and scribbled a note on it.

Dani, I assure you I am not an asshole. Far from it. Looking forward to getting to prove that to you.

PS: You're still a brat until proven otherwise.

Dallas smirked and slid the note through the slits at the top of the locker before making his way to his own classroom. He didn't know why, but he really was looking forward to taking her out to dinner.

There was just something about her…maybe it was the way she read through his bullshit. Maybe it was the way that whatever he could dish out, she could dish back tenfold. Maybe it was those pools of melted Hershey bars. Maybe it was those freckles. Maybe it was her laugh.

Either way, Dallas knew he was in over his head with this one.