He rested with his head in his chin, not knowing what to do. School was over and he wanted to go down to the rink in Minnesota so badly it hurt. But he couldn't, he lived in Ohio now, away from hockey. "Thanks a lot, dad," he grumbled.
He stayed on the school grounds, wheeling himself over to a table in the shade next to Green Hall and slowly maneuvered his body into a chair, pushing his own wheelchair out of the way. He thought his wheelchair was sissy and stupid. He took out a pen and started to doodle on the table, he knew it was forbidden, but no one was there and he really didn't care whether he got into trouble or not. He actually liked getting into trouble; it was a lot easier than applying himself or anything.
He took his bandanna out of the shoulder pack he carried on the back of his wheelchair and tied it messily around his head. It brought back good times, being a bash brother. Happiest moments of his life. He had been part of a team. Not anymore. Not since the accident. He banged his fist hard on the table and picked up his pen once more, hurling it at the table.
"God, I hate my dad," he muttered and began etching his pen deeper and deeper into the grain of the wood. "It's all his fault," he yelled angrily.
He heard footsteps behind him and turned around quickly in his seat to make sure it wasn't the principal. If he had stayed at Eden Hall, the dean would be watching his every movement, but here at the public school, no one really cared what he did. That was the only good part. But no matter where he went, he was still characterized as the big guy who beats people up, and that was okay with him.
He squinted his eyes and saw someone coming toward him. They were shorter than the principal and he thanked them silently. He couldn't tell who it was, but it looked like a girl. What would a girl want with him? She broke into a jog and came into clearer view.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Ducks, Disney does.
"It couldn't be," he said as he moved his legs so he could sit sideways in his chair comfortably. "No way!" he yelled as the girl came into his sight clearly.
"Dean Portman! Is that you?" she yelled as she came to a grinding stop a few feet away from him.
"Julie Gaffney? What in hell's name are you doing here?" he asked, unable to subside a huge grin.
"What in hell's name are YOU doing here?" Julie asked, laughing. "You belong with the Ducks, Portman! Now get up off your butt and give me a hug," she said.
Dean shrugged, trying not to show any disappointment, "I can't," he said.
"Portman?" Julie asked carefully. She came closer and saw his wheelchair hidden in the shade. "Don't tell me," she whispered under her breath, "Portman, I'm really sorry."
"There's no reason for you to be," he said quickly. He smiled again, "So, come here and give me a hug," he invited.
Julie rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Portman and squeezed tightly. He was so large and her hands couldn't touch each behind his back when they were hugging. It felt so good; finally, someone he liked had come to visit. If only she could take him away, back to Minnesota, back to the Ducks. He felt Julie peck his check and draw away. "God, Portman, I missed you so much," she said, sitting in the chair opposite from him.
He scoffed, "Not as much as I missed all of you guys. But don't tell them that I said that, I don't want them thinking I'm going soft here in Ohio or anything."
Julie glanced at his pen and what he had engraved. It read 'Ducks 4 Ever - or else.' She smiled, "Yeah, I can see that."
"How's Fulton been holding up?"
She laughed out loud, "He misses his brother most of all, it's like he only checks half of the people he used to."
"So what've you guys been up to?" He asked, moving his legs so he could study her worried face in a comfortable position.
"It doesn't really matter," she said quietly, "all that matters is how you're doing, we know about your dad, Dean."
That had to be one of the few times she called him by his first name, he knew this was serious. "Know what?" he feigned innocence, but there was some anger bubbling in his stomach, how could they know? He couldn't call them or write them, thanks to his dad, so how could they know? Is this the only reason she came? To shove it in his face?
"We're taking you back home, where you belong," she said slyly.
"What? You know I can't go anywhere, my dad would never agree to it," Dean said, alarmed. Were they planning on kidnapping him or something? It was now he wished he was back in his wheelchair so he could get out.
"You don't need your dad's permission anymore; your grandparents have agreed to take you in. You're leaving Ohio, dude, whether you like it or not," Julie said, leaning in and pressing her forehead against his.
He drew back in shock, "What? My grandparents? What about my dad?" He ran his hands over his bandana, thinking over what she had just said, was this possible? He had only been gone for six months; could the Ducks have done that for him in such a little amount of time?
Julie looked down at his artwork, "Okay, I understand if you don't want to come, but you've at least got to say goodbye to everyone else…"
"Are you kidding? Of course I want to leave this dump! When are we leaving?" he shouted at her, bringing another contagious grin on his face.
Julie put on another sly grin, "Oh lets say," She pretended to ponder, "right now, maybe? Our flight leaves in four hours."
His eyes grew wide, "Really?"
"Yeah!" she yelled, "so get up and get in the wheelchair, we've got to get you packed!"
Before she could stand up and get his chair, he wrapped her in another hug. It was a huge shock, if felt like it was a dream. This was nearly impossible, he was going back! "Thank you so much, cat-woman," he whispered in her ear.
He stayed on the school grounds, wheeling himself over to a table in the shade next to Green Hall and slowly maneuvered his body into a chair, pushing his own wheelchair out of the way. He thought his wheelchair was sissy and stupid. He took out a pen and started to doodle on the table, he knew it was forbidden, but no one was there and he really didn't care whether he got into trouble or not. He actually liked getting into trouble; it was a lot easier than applying himself or anything.
He took his bandanna out of the shoulder pack he carried on the back of his wheelchair and tied it messily around his head. It brought back good times, being a bash brother. Happiest moments of his life. He had been part of a team. Not anymore. Not since the accident. He banged his fist hard on the table and picked up his pen once more, hurling it at the table.
"God, I hate my dad," he muttered and began etching his pen deeper and deeper into the grain of the wood. "It's all his fault," he yelled angrily.
He heard footsteps behind him and turned around quickly in his seat to make sure it wasn't the principal. If he had stayed at Eden Hall, the dean would be watching his every movement, but here at the public school, no one really cared what he did. That was the only good part. But no matter where he went, he was still characterized as the big guy who beats people up, and that was okay with him.
He squinted his eyes and saw someone coming toward him. They were shorter than the principal and he thanked them silently. He couldn't tell who it was, but it looked like a girl. What would a girl want with him? She broke into a jog and came into clearer view.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Ducks, Disney does.
"It couldn't be," he said as he moved his legs so he could sit sideways in his chair comfortably. "No way!" he yelled as the girl came into his sight clearly.
"Dean Portman! Is that you?" she yelled as she came to a grinding stop a few feet away from him.
"Julie Gaffney? What in hell's name are you doing here?" he asked, unable to subside a huge grin.
"What in hell's name are YOU doing here?" Julie asked, laughing. "You belong with the Ducks, Portman! Now get up off your butt and give me a hug," she said.
Dean shrugged, trying not to show any disappointment, "I can't," he said.
"Portman?" Julie asked carefully. She came closer and saw his wheelchair hidden in the shade. "Don't tell me," she whispered under her breath, "Portman, I'm really sorry."
"There's no reason for you to be," he said quickly. He smiled again, "So, come here and give me a hug," he invited.
Julie rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Portman and squeezed tightly. He was so large and her hands couldn't touch each behind his back when they were hugging. It felt so good; finally, someone he liked had come to visit. If only she could take him away, back to Minnesota, back to the Ducks. He felt Julie peck his check and draw away. "God, Portman, I missed you so much," she said, sitting in the chair opposite from him.
He scoffed, "Not as much as I missed all of you guys. But don't tell them that I said that, I don't want them thinking I'm going soft here in Ohio or anything."
Julie glanced at his pen and what he had engraved. It read 'Ducks 4 Ever - or else.' She smiled, "Yeah, I can see that."
"How's Fulton been holding up?"
She laughed out loud, "He misses his brother most of all, it's like he only checks half of the people he used to."
"So what've you guys been up to?" He asked, moving his legs so he could study her worried face in a comfortable position.
"It doesn't really matter," she said quietly, "all that matters is how you're doing, we know about your dad, Dean."
That had to be one of the few times she called him by his first name, he knew this was serious. "Know what?" he feigned innocence, but there was some anger bubbling in his stomach, how could they know? He couldn't call them or write them, thanks to his dad, so how could they know? Is this the only reason she came? To shove it in his face?
"We're taking you back home, where you belong," she said slyly.
"What? You know I can't go anywhere, my dad would never agree to it," Dean said, alarmed. Were they planning on kidnapping him or something? It was now he wished he was back in his wheelchair so he could get out.
"You don't need your dad's permission anymore; your grandparents have agreed to take you in. You're leaving Ohio, dude, whether you like it or not," Julie said, leaning in and pressing her forehead against his.
He drew back in shock, "What? My grandparents? What about my dad?" He ran his hands over his bandana, thinking over what she had just said, was this possible? He had only been gone for six months; could the Ducks have done that for him in such a little amount of time?
Julie looked down at his artwork, "Okay, I understand if you don't want to come, but you've at least got to say goodbye to everyone else…"
"Are you kidding? Of course I want to leave this dump! When are we leaving?" he shouted at her, bringing another contagious grin on his face.
Julie put on another sly grin, "Oh lets say," She pretended to ponder, "right now, maybe? Our flight leaves in four hours."
His eyes grew wide, "Really?"
"Yeah!" she yelled, "so get up and get in the wheelchair, we've got to get you packed!"
Before she could stand up and get his chair, he wrapped her in another hug. It was a huge shock, if felt like it was a dream. This was nearly impossible, he was going back! "Thank you so much, cat-woman," he whispered in her ear.