AN: I'm a rookie when it comes to Ducks fic, but I got the idea in my head and it wouldn't leave me alone. This'll eventually be CharlieAdam, with loads of Julie. The other Ducks will also feature. You won't find any OC's here seeing as I prefer to use the other Ducks rather than a random, and if there are, believe me, they definitely won't get any focus. Enjoy!

Center of Attention
prologue


there's a party over here there's a party over there, wave your hands in the air shake your derriere, these three words when you getting busy, whoop that ass, whoop that ass, whoop that--

His hand shot out, reached for the phone on his night stand as it sang some more profanities, and slammed it against his ear. "What?"

"You're late."

Irritated, Charlie Conway managed to crack his eyes open as he stared at his alarm. It blinked 10:24 in huge, red numbers at him. "So?" he rolled onto his back, the phone crushed between his ear and shoulder blade.

"You do realize it's Monday, right?"

He scrunched his face in concentration, tried to think what she meant by that, before realization struck. He shot out of the bed at once.

"Shit, Gaffney, why didn't you call me sooner?"

He could almost see Julie roll her eyes on the other end as she commented, dryly, "I don't know, class, maybe?"

He didn't answer her, instead began to rummage through his closets for something to wear. His eyes immediately landed on the green Duck jersey, hung on his chair. Charlie grinned, it would have to do.

He heard voices on the other end of the line before Julie cleared her throat, "Adam said Coach is looking for you." Great. This day kept on getting worse and worse. "He said he told Orion you were sick. Coach didn't look convinced, he's probably going to check on you later."

"Thanks, Cat. I gotta run," Charlie replied, hurriedly. He hung up before Julie could say anything else, shooting into the bathroom to get dressed. He ended up with his toothbrush into his mouth as he tried to fix his hair, before he decided to leave it. And then he stomped into the kitchen, his skates in hand, drinking some orange juice in less than three seconds. He didn't even see his mother's note on the door of the refrigerator, which plainly said, 'don't be late!'.

And then he was outside, skating as though his life depended on it. He loved the feel of his wheels hitting the pavement almost as much as his skates on the ice, but he hardly had the chance to enjoy it. He was late, and not just late, but late late. He was in so much fucking trouble. It was with a twinge of nostalgia that he noticed he didn't have his usual Ducks at his sides, laughing and shoving as they made their way to Eden Hall. Well, there was always time for that later.

"Charlie Conway," he breathed hard as the woman behind the desk looked at him from beneath thin glasses. She looked through some files before handing him a piece of paper. His schedule and, as he noticed at the top, his dorm number. It wasn't the same as last year, oddly enough. "Thanks," he managed to get out before he was off again, ignoring her cry of 'you can't skate inside'.

He turned a left, almost went for a right, dodged a student—it was almost hockey, he thought, grinning.

"Banks, where the hell is Conway?"

Charlie froze, skidding to a halt as he saw his coach. Luckily, he was facing Orion's back. Adam, though, saw him. Charlie motioned with his arms for Banks to distract the man and Adam turned back towards Orion. "He's in here—hey, what's that?"

The way it was said had Charlie shoot his friend a look that plainly said 'what in the hell's name was that', astonished to see their coach actually turning to their side to see what Banks was pointing at. Charlie skated by them as quickly as he could; he counted the numbers until he saw his dorm and went inside just as Orion turned to glare into his direction.

"I don't see anything," Orion said, wondering what the hell his star player was up to.

"Oh," Adam said, lamely. It'd been the first thing that had come to mind. "Yeah, so. Anyway, Charlie's in here." He gestured behind him, two doors down. Orion bypassed him in long strides, obviously intent on catching their captain red-handed doing.. god knows what. But one thing was for sure, Orion didn't believe Conway was sick for even a second.

The door opened, Orion stepped in, and, much to Adam's surprise, there was Charlie, in bed, eyes shut. His chest was rising slowly, and, Adam thought, for someone who was faking sleep, he was pretty damn good at it.

"Conway," Orion didn't seem to agree. "What is this? Get up."

Charlie opened his eyes, then moaned for effect, his cheeks still flushed from skating so hard. Orion's expression softened, and then he put a hand to his player's forehead. "You're warm," he said, a bit disbelieving. "Guess Banks was right. Fine, stay in bed."

He turned towards Adam, "Banks, get back to class." And with that, he was gone.

Charlie kicked his covers off of him, revealing he was still wearing his skates. "Thanks, Banksie," he laughed, smirking at the look of irritation that flickered on his friend's face. He rested his arms behind his head, "You ought to get back to class, man."

Banks rolled his eyes. "You owe me one," he told his captain.

"Eat me, Banks," Charlie replied carelessly, scratching his nose as he saw Adam flip him off, something very un-Banksie like, as he left.

Charlie shrugged as the door closed, knowing Banks wasn't really pissed off at him. Still, he was right; Charlie did owe him. Eh, he'd figure something out.

First, he thought as he closed his eyes, was going to catch up on his well deserved rest.