Chapter 2: New Girl Olympics (Pilot, pt. 2)


She sees them walking in a straight line,

That's not really her style

And they all got the same heartbeat

But hers is falling behind

Cool Kids – Echosmith


I woke in a cold, panicked sweat. My head ached for just a few seconds, then, it was back to normal. No pain, no pounding, nothing. I was suddenly fine.

The song on my phone was just loud enough to be annoying, so I reached over and pressed the 'stop' button on the screen.

I slowly sat up and rubbed my eyes, dread seeping through my veins; stretching all over my body from my head to my toes.

Groaning, I flopped back down, my head hitting the pillow with a soft 'thump.' I'd never been the new student before. The last time I had started school without friends in my grade was in kindergarten back in Minnesota.

You know Scott and his fidgety friend, Stiles, a small voice in my brain nagged. You would be meeting girls from the Bullets, but most of them go to Devenford Prep just outside of town.

As soon as I thought about the Bullets, some of the dread went away. But still, some lingered. I would have to prove myself later at practice. That team was cutthroat and the girls were like a family. True, I probably wasn't the only new girl, but I had earned myself a killer reputation on the ice, and those girls would be expecting me to bring it.

I tossed my legs over the side of the bed, cracked my knuckles, back, toes, and knees, and stood as slowly as possible. I had had several concussions over the course of my time in hockey and standing up just a little too fast could get me dizzy and seeing spots.

I quickly jumped into the shower, did my business, and dried off. I had already laid out clothes for the day. That was quite unlike me, actually. I wasn't the type of girl who was usually fashionably prepared. But I wanted to make a somewhat okay impression on the other idiots at Beacon Hills High School. After all, I was going to have to survive the next few years of high school with them, wasn't I?

I changed into my clothes and started packing up my hockey gear for practice after school.

As I was doing so, a short rapping came from the other side of my door.

"Enter as you must," I called jokingly.

There was silence for a moment.

"Uh…does that mean I can come in?"

It was Scott. I let out a big sigh.

"Yeah."

The door squeaked open. An apologetic-looking Scott stood in the doorframe.

"What's up?" I asked politely as I tied my skates to the side of my duffel bag. "Find any severed limbs last night?"

"Not exactly severed limbs, but I did find the other half of the body," Scott replied, a nervous edge to his voice.

I froze while checking the rubber guard on my skates. Nothing else moved in his direction but my eyes. A small, short breath snorted out my nose. I could barely get the next sentence out of my mouth.

"You found the other half of the body?" I echoed. "You, my cousin, Scott McCall, who could never find me in hide-and-seek, found the second part of a cut in half, murdered-by-cannibals body?"

Scott smiled crookedly. "Yeah. Kind of disgusting, actually."

I raised my eyebrows and continued tying the skates. "Really? Never would have guessed."

"Speaking of disgusting," he continued, "could – could you look at something for me?"

I stood, hoisting my duffle bag over my shoulder and reaching for my lucky hockey stick. "It depends on what I'm looking at. I tend to get squeamish sometimes if there's too much blood."

Scott shrugged, as if trying to act casual. His voice went up an octave. "Blood? No, not a lot of blood. It's just…not your typical cut, that's all."

"Where is it?"

"On my side."

"Did you slip and fall in the woods?"

"Kind of…?"

"What do you mean 'kind of?'"

"Um, you'll see."

I narrowed my eyes slightly as he moved his hoodie out of the way and lifted his shirt. I leaned over slightly and peeled away part of the sterile bandage already stained with a bit of blood.

I felt my heart stop as my eyes grazed over Scott's 'cut.' My mouth went dry. I had no idea what to say to my cousin.

"Is it that bad?" he questioned, voice tense.

My mouth opened and closed several times like a fish. Was he even aware about what had actually happened the night before?

Out of nowhere, a scene flashed through my mind. A big, shadowy shape with piercing crimson eyes staring me down. Then, a scream that sounded suspiciously like it could be Scott's echoed through my thoughts. It must have been part of my dream last night. It sent shivers down my spine. What could have given me such awful nightmares?

I finally managed to speak. "Scott…uh, this is a bite mark."

He sighed. "I know."

I carefully pasted the bandage back over the wound. "What the hell could have done this?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. A wolf?"

"There haven't been wolves in California for years," I replied, shaking my head in disbelief. "Maybe a rabid dog? You might want to get a rabies shot."

Suddenly, a ding sounded from his pocket. He pulled out his phone and read the screen. His demeanor immediately changed, like he was trying to overlook the abnormality of the bite.

"We can worry about it later," he said, trying to sound upbeat. "It's the first day of school – we should get going."

He backed out of the room and started down the stairs.

I scoffed, grabbing my backpack and closing my door behind me. "Scott, we can't just brush this off. That's not a typical bite mark. Not even close."

"You don't want to be late, do you? Come on, I'll give you a ride," he responded, avoiding my comments. He moved out of sight and out the front door.

I shifted my backpack, the duffel bag on my shoulder with skates tied around the handle, and the hockey stick in my hand before trudging down the stairs.

I glanced longingly at the kitchen, wishing I had gotten up earlier to make a healthy breakfast.

"I hope your car has enough trunk space for all my hockey crap," I called as I slammed the door behind me.

I glanced up to see Scott standing at the bottom of the front porch with an ancient, dingy, booger green bicycle.

My eyebrows raised up past my hairline. I pointed at the bike. "You're joking, right?"

Scott shook his head, a naïve expression on his face. "No, this is it."

I stomped down the steps. "This thing could barely hold you and your backpack, much less all my hockey gear, my backpack, plus me."

"This bike has never let me down, Maddie. Tomorrow, we'll have the car with the big trunk. We could even get Stiles to drive us in his jeep if we needed to," Scott reasoned. "It's just for today, I promise."

I crossed my arms. "If we can't get Aunt Mel's car, then please have Stiles pick us up. He's irritating as all get out, but please ask him today."

Scott held up his hands in defense, the helmet on his head wobbling. He seemed to do that a lot when we first go to truly know each other. "Deal."

Clumsily, I was able to mount the back of my cousin's bicycle and we took off towards Beacon Hills High School.

I almost fell off several times, but Scott did his best to keep us, as well as all my hockey stuff, on the bike. His lacrosse stick slapped me in the face several times during the journey there.

As soon as we entered the school parking lot, people began to stare. My eyes flickered to my hockey stick. Guess they didn't have a lot of female hockey players walking around Beacon Hills High School.

We came to a rolling stop at a bike rack directly across from the double front doors. My stomach did somersaults as the brakes squealed. I swung my leg off the bike, retrieving my balance once more.

I gazed up at the brick building, anxiety ever putting pressure on my chest. Scott unbuckled his helmet from his head. He glanced between me and the school.

"Maddie," he said gently, "you're going to be fine."

I smiled lightly. "Thanks."

A fancy, silver sports car pulled up next to us as we spoke. My eyes flickered to the person in the front seat – another well-groomed, teenage male douchebag. Oh, the joy.

I tried to ignore the guy's presence until he got out of his car. He swung the driver's side door out enough to step out with his backpack already on, purposely hitting Scott in the process.

The guy got up close to Scott's face as he slammed the car door. I stepped forward, and, although I was on the other side of the bike, got close enough to club the guy over the head with my hockey stick.

"Dude…watch the paint job," he scolded, a scowl gracing his features.

I retaliated, tone heavy with mockery. "Dude…watch the precious cargo."

The guy turned to me, fire in his eyes, but his friend called to him from across the way.

"Yo, Jackson, let's go, bro!"

Ah. Jackson. The ultimate f-boy name.

He strut away to his posse, shooting daggers into my face, as well as Scott's.

"Classy," I commented sarcastically once he was out of earshot.

"Tell me about it," grumbled Scott. He played with the straps on his backpack, then gestured for me to follow him. "Mom said I'm supposed to drop you by the front office before school starts. I've got to meet Stiles first, but we can all walk there together."

I shrugged. "Whoo boy, I get to spend the first few minutes at Beacon Hills High School sitting in the office. Yay."

"It's not that bad, Maddie."

"Oh yeah? You want to try being the new kid in a small town where everybody's known everybody since the first grade?"

"Oh. I didn't even think about that. But look at it this way – you've got me and Stiles."

I snorted. "Yeah, great."

Scott seemed genuinely offended. "Hey, I'm just trying to help."

Guilt washed over me and I clinked my hockey stick on the pavement once as we walked.

"Sorry," I apologized quietly. "Like I told you last night after dinner – I'm not very good at making friends."

Scott put a hand on my shoulder as we came to a halt. I didn't even bother to brush off his hand. He smiled sympathetically.

"Your nerves are just getting to you. You'll be okay," he encouraged, taking his hand off my shoulder. "I've never been the new kid before, but there are some really nice people here. And yeah, Stiles and I might not be the coolest sophomores in school, but –,"

"Scott, I don't care about how cool you and your best friend might be," I told him truthfully. "I've never been the most popular girl. I played hockey as a kid. Hockey. Think about that sport and how it must have translated to my everyday life, including school. I was competitive and violent when I was younger. You know better than anyone."

"That's an understatement," he chuckled, reminiscing on times when I beat him up.

I shook my head, laughing slightly. "The point is, I am nervous. I'm extremely nervous. I'm so nervous, I want to shove this skate's blade into my face so that you have to call an ambulance and I won't have to step foot in this new school. I'm sorry."

"Stiles is a nice guy. I am, too, I think. If you stick with us, you can avoid socializing with other people who are like Jackson," Scott replied.

"And you know how much I despise socializing," I grinned.

"Scott! Maddie!"

We turned to see Stiles jogging towards us. His grin was wide. "Last night was wild! Maddie, you should have come with."

"I heard," I nodded, "and I'm glad I didn't after seeing what happened to Scott."

Stiles nodded. "Speaking of which – okay, let's see this thing."

Scott set down his backpack, then lifted his t-shirt.

Stiles was completely fascinated with just the outside of the cloth bandage. "Ooh!"

"Yeah," said Scott. Stiles reached for the edge of it, causing Scott to flinch. "Whoa!"

He picked up his backpack and we began to walk towards the school. "It was too dark to see much, but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf."

"Scott, I told you, there are no wolves in California," I reiterated.

Stiles nodded frantically with me.

"I heard a wolf howling," my cousin fired back matter-of-factly.

"No, you didn't," Stiles shot him down. "California doesn't have wolves."

"Like I said," I agreed. "Not in years."

"Like sixty years," nodded Stiles, stopping in front of us as he walked backwards.

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes, really. There are no wolves in California!" Stiles repeated.

"Alright, well if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you're definitely not going to believe me when I tell you I found the body."

Stiles started flipping out beside me. I had to take a half-step back in order to avoid getting punched in the face by his excited flying fists.

"You – are you kidding me?" he asked playfully, voice low.

"He's not kidding," I told him, voice tight.

"I wish I was," Scott smirked. "I'm going to have nightmares for a month."

Stiles guffawed. "Oh, god, that is freaking awesome. I – I mean, this is seriously the best thing that's happened to this town since –,"

His eyes glazed over and his face went slack as his gaze focused on someone walking up. I turned my head to see a pretty, stylish, redheaded girl swaying by. She completely ignored the three of us as she passed. Stiles was obviously crushing on her – big time.

"– since the birth of Lydia Martin," he finished dreamily. "Hey, Lydia…you look…like you're going to ignore me."

"Dude, wipe the drool off your chin," I joked. Scott laughed.

Stiles whipped around and pointed an accusatory finger at Scott. "You're the cause of this, you know.

"Uh-huh," Scott responded, amused.

"Draggin' me down to your nerd depths. I'm a nerd by association. I've been scarlet nerded by you," Stiles complained. "Stay away from us, Maddie, or you'll earn your big, fat, crimson 'N' to sew on all your shirts so fast that at lunch, you won't even be allowed to take from the same spoon serving mashed potatoes to the first line of the lacrosse team."

The school bell's loud ring vibrated so deeply, it shook me to the bone. Realistically, was it that loud? No. Did it seem like it to me because of nerves? Absolutely.

"Alright, first day of sophomore year, take off," Stiles deadpanned.

"We've got to drop Maddie off at the front office," Scott told him.

"Yeah, late to Hobson's class. Sounds good to me," cheered Stiles. "Follow us, my lady."

I rolled my eyes. "You really want to say that to a girl holding a hockey stick?"

"Follow us, Maddie," Stiles corrected himself.

"Don't even try that crap with me, Stilinski," I warned.

"Dually noted."


"Lucky for you, there's another new sophomore, just like you."

The principal led me outside the school to wait for the secretary to give me my class schedule.

"Oh, great," I muttered sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," the principal said.

I shook my head and repeated the phrase with the sarcasm dropped.

He led me to a bench where a girl with long, dark hair was seated. She beamed kindly as we walked up. She was dressed fashionably, better than I ever would. Her eyes sparkled with genuine cheerfulness. Sure, I was usually somewhat upbeat, but not for the first day of school.

"Allison, this is Madison. This is her first time in a new school, so please, encourage each other. I believe you have your first class together," the principal introduced.

I waved lightly, then, he left us alone. Allison moved her bag so that I had a place to sit.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

"Do you prefer Madison, or is there a nickname I can call you?" she wondered.

"Maddie is fine," I replied. I mindlessly scratched at a dirt spot on the handle of my stick. How did that get there?

My hands shook terribly. I did my best to hide it, but Allison noticed.

"First time as a new student?"

I glanced over at her. She seemed compassionate enough. I nodded.

"Yeah."

"Where did you move from?"

"Minnesota."

"And you play hockey?"

I smiled back at her as she examined my gear. I threw in some sarcasm to test the waters.

"No, actually, I play soccer."

She laughed and continued with the joke. She gestured to my skates. "Fancy cleats you got there, Maddie."

"Only the best to fuel my passion," I chuckled.

A pleasant chiming sounded from the small phone in her hand. She waved it off.

"I'm so sorry. My mom keeps calling me. I should probably take this."

"It's okay," I said. "That sounds important."

She smiled again, then answered her phone. "Mom, three calls on my first day is a little overdoing it…" She picked up her bag and dug through it, as if looking for something. "Everything except a pen. Oh my god, I didn't actually forget a pen!"

"I've got one you can borrow," I offered.

Allison grinned over at me. "Thanks so much, Maddie. You're a lifesaver!" There was a pause. "Yeah, Maddie and I are both new. I'll tell her. Okay, okay, gotta go. Love you."

Just as the vice principal strode up, Allison pressed the 'end call' button and stuffed her phone back into her bag.

"My mom says hello and good luck, by the way," she told me quietly.

I smiled. "Tell her thanks for me the next time you see her."

"I will."

"Sorry to keep both of you waiting," he told us.

"It's fine," Allison replied, standing rapidly.

I gathered my duffel bag and stick, then stood more slowly. My backpack and duffel were heavy.

The vice principal, unsmiling, held out a small, folded piece of paper to me. "Your schedule, Ms. St. James."

With much difficultly, I snatched up the piece of paper and held it in the same hand I used to balance my duffel with. I didn't even bother to read it. I didn't have the talent to read, walk, and balance all my stuff at one time.

"This way, girls."

Allison and the VP began walking in line towards the building, while I trailed behind. I wasn't able to walk nearly as fast with all my stuff weighing me down. I grumbled as he began to engage Allison in pleasant, but forced, conversation.

"So you were saying San Francisco isn't where you grew up?"

"No," Allison said, "but we lived there for more than a year, which is unusual in my family."

"Well, hopefully, Beacon Hills will be your last stop for a while," the vice principal said.

He barely held the door open for me as we entered the school. Allison was kind enough to stop the door from running into my shoulder as I crossed through the entryway.

I was somewhat dumbfounded by how open this other girl was to being brand new. She wasn't exactly what I was expecting. Usually, I thought people who moved around a lot were more closed off and introverted. Why get close to people when you know you'll just leave them later? She completely shattered my view of what I thought about a person who was constantly moving around was like.

Thankfully, the vice principal at least held the classroom door open for me and my gear. Suddenly, the room went dead silent. All I could hear was my own heart, beating wildly against my rib cage. All eyes were on me and Allison, who didn't seem to mind one bit.

"Class," the VP announced, "these are your new students, Allison Argent and Madison St. James. Please do your best to make them feel welcome."

I glanced back to watch him leave the room, and, in the process of doing so, found myself alone up front with the teacher. Allison had already found a spot – behind my cousin, Scott McCall. He offered her a pen, which she accepted with a grin. Oops.

Stiles waved at me, and then to the empty desk behind him, which was near Scott and Allison.

I nodded and stepped forward to make my way back there, but the teacher stopped me.

"Well, Ms. St. James," he greeted, tone full of arrogance and mockery, "since you're so keen to stay up here with me, why don't you tell us about yourself?"

The class sniggered and Allison winced.

My mouth went dry again. "Um...well – I, uh, I play hockey."

"Really? I would never have guessed," ridiculed the teacher. "Anything else you wish to tell us?"

I felt my face grow hot as the class giggled some more. I grit my teeth and squared my shoulders, thinking back to Stiles' reaction to when I said which team I was playing for.

"I'm one of the new members of the Beacon Hills Bullets," I declared.

A hush fell over the other teenagers. Several seemed impressed while others nodded. A few girls even began to whisper fervently to each other.

A few of the butterflies in my stomach went away and I gave them all a half-smile.

"Good to know our team is in such…capable hands," the teacher retorted smugly. "Now, please, sit down before I put a real bullet in my own head."

I swiftly walked my way down the far aisle of desks and plopped down right behind Stiles. He turned around and gave me a dorky thumbs up and a goofy smirk.

"Nice going," he complimented.

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. "Thanks."

I leaned my hockey stick against the wall, using my duffel as a support. Then, I took out a notebook, a pencil, and my planner.

Scott and Allison both looked back at me and grinned. I shrugged back.

I slumped slightly in my seat as the teacher began to ramble. What a great start to a new school year.


The rest of the day was extremely boring. However, the stares I received because of my hockey gear turned me away from any more socialization for, what I wanted to be, forever.

I had Scott and Stiles in a few more of my classes, one being Chemistry, which was pretty much the seventh level of hell for me. Stiles and Scott, naturally, sat as lab partners. I was stuck with an ashy blond, curly-haired guy who didn't say a word. We were perfect together, as neither of us wanted to exchange any small talk. I was extremely grateful.

I wasn't even able to each lunch with Scott and Stiles. I was too busy in the office trying to change out of Algebra I into Geometry. Credit transfers were a royal pain in the ass.

After school, I hastily rushed back to my locker to grab my skates, which I had left there earlier in the day after someone complained that the blades 'made them nervous.' I merely scoffed and stored them away like the principal asked.

As I approached my locker, I saw Allison messing with her own lock combination.

"Hey," she greeted brightly. "How was the rest of your day?"

I shrugged as I began to open my locker. "It was meh."

She laughed. "Meh? That's the adjective you're going with?"

"You asked, I answered," I replied, amused.

I set down my hockey stick and adjusted my Minnesota Wild ball cap before taking out my skates and tying them back onto my duffel bag's strap.

When I looked up, I saw Allison smiling to someone across the hall. I followed the direction of her eyes to see Scott, grinning right back.

I raised my eyebrows and opened my mouth to say something when the redheaded girl Stiles had been ignored by earlier in the day, Lydia Martin, sauntered up and praised Allison's fashion choices.

"That jacket is absolutely killer," she admired. "Where'd you get it?"

"My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco," Allison explained.

I could tell she was slightly uncomfortable.

"And you are my new best friend," Lydia mused.

Then, to my complete and utter disgust, Jackson, the guy who had hit Scott with his car door that morning, came up behind Lydia and basically made out with her in the hallway.

Allison glanced at me with a strained smile. I shrugged right back. What the heck was going on at this high school?

Suddenly, Lydia was done kissing Jackson and was complimenting Allison again.

"And this bracelet is stunning!" she flattered. "I have one almost exactly like it, but it's from Tiffany's. My dad got it for me for my sweet sixteen."

"Yeah, it's nice," Jackson chimed in.

Wonderful, I thought dimly. Douchebag has an airhead girlfriend who just happens to be the girl Stiles is head-over-heels for. Great choice, Stiles, great choice. And, of course, they're completely avoiding eye contact with me. Actually, I don't think their eyes have even flickered in my direction.

As the three of them discussed Allison's jewelry choices, I took the opportunity to glance around the hallway.

I looked back to see Scott, Stiles, and another girl standing by Scott's locker. Scott was still looking my way, so I threw my hands up slightly as an indication that I already severely disliked Jackson, and possibly Lydia.

Stiles pointed me out to the girl and I waved glumly. He shook his head in disbelief at me and gestured at Lydia, honey-brown eyes wide with confusion.

"Scarlet nerded," me mouthed at me while gesturing to himself and Scott.

I rolled my eyes. What a twitch.

"So," Lydia's voice caught me off guard, "this weekend, there's a party."

"A party?" Allison questioned incredulously.

"Yeah, Friday night," Jackson added. "You should come."

Allison glanced over at me for salvation. I nodded at her once.

"We actually have plans already on Friday night," I spoke up. "New girl bonding sleepover. It's already set up."

Lydia glowered at me with sharp green eyes. "We weren't asking you. Have you looked in a mirror today? It's like 90's grunge grew legs. What did you do to those nails? Dip them in bleach? And you think you're a professional hockey player, I see. You're probably one of those girls who thinks she's 'one of the guys.' Am I right?"

I frowned, then glanced down at my own outfit. It was a light wash jean jacket, a striped, black and white t-shirt, black jeans, white converse, and my dark green Minnesota Wild ball cap.

"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously, cocking one eyebrow.

"She means we don't want living pieces of trash like you walking around at our party," Jackson clarified snidely. He draped an arm around Lydia's torso.

"Hey, wait a second –," Allison began, voice stressed.

My blood began to boil. I held up a hand, telling Allison that I could handle it myself.

"I wouldn't want to go to some high school party anyways," I said firmly. "College parties are where the action is going to be. I don't need to risk my spot on the Beacon Hills Bullets for some D-list bash thrown by a couple of loaded, low IQ, Beverly Hills 90210 wannabes."

Jackson's grip around Lydia's waist tightened, while Lydia's jaw dropped dramatically.

Allison's face went blank, eyes huge with her jaw clenched.

I knew then that I had lost my only girl friend at Beacon Hills High School. I glanced over at a clock on the wall. It was 3:15. I had to be at the rink by 3:45 for an orientation before practice. The local bus system ran by the school on route to the rink, but at 3:20. I had to get out to the bus stop in front of the school.

"I'll see you later, Allison," I sighed, trying to hide my light gray-blue eyes under the brim of my hat.

I quickly trudged away; out of sight, out of mind.

That was not how I wanted the end of my first day of sophomore year to go.


The first day of Bullets conditioning was more challenging than any other conditioning I had ever gone through.

My new coach called me over after practice was over.

Her name was Coach Ellie. She was a smaller, shorter, stocky woman with a salt-and-pepper braid. Her face was forever in a scowl, but her overall demeanor was pleasant. She pushed us hard, but always constructively criticizing. She never screamed in our faces or picked on girls because they made a mistake. She was an excellent coach from what I had experienced so far. She also called us all by our last names. Everyone did the same, even the players.

"Hey, Coach," I greeted.

She smiled. "How did you like your first day, St. James?"

"I loved it," I told her truthfully.

"Harder than your last team's workouts?"

"For sure. But I love a challenge."

She chuckled. "I know you do. I saw your videos. I just wanted to let you know that the other co-captain position is still open to any girl who proves she's got the leadership skills out on the ice. I've got my eye on you, St. James. You've got major talent."

My lips stretched into an uncontrollable grin. "Really?"

"Absolutely!" Coach Ellie confirmed. "We'll do more on the ice tomorrow. Make sure to rest up and drink lots of water tonight and tomorrow, alright?"

"Will do, Coach," I nodded enthusiastically. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

I heaved my backpack onto my shoulders, then lifted my duffel and grabbed my hockey stick.

I couldn't stop smiling as I made my way out of the rink.

Several other girls from the team stood in a huddle just outside the front doors of the community center.

"Hey, St. James!" called the girl with short black hair.

I whipped around, surprised that she was even slightly interested to talk to me.

"Uh, hey," I replied, slowly stepping over to the group.

"I don't think we've introduced ourselves yet," said the same girl. "I'm Jett. This is Avery," she pointed to the tall girl with long, pin-straight, light brown hair, who put a hand up in greeting. "Webb," a girl with bright blue, bob-style hair waved brightly. "And Day." Finally, she gestured to a short girl with medium length, warm brown hair, whose smile was just as cheerful as the Pikachu t-shirt she was wearing.

"Hi. Nice to meet you all," I said.

"We were all a part of the team last year," Jett explained.

"We're super impressed with you so far," Avery commented.

"Yeah, you're seriously one of the best forwards we've ever seen," Webb chimed in.

"And you're a fan of the Minnesota Wild, which makes me happy!" Day laughed.

My smile only grew bigger. "Well, thanks, guys. I really appreciate it."

"First day at Beacon Hills High School?" Jett guessed, flinching ever so slightly.

I sighed deeply and set down my duffel bag. I leaned lightly on my stick. "How'd you know?"

"Well, part of the reason is we didn't see you at Devenford today," Avery replied.

"And you've got those depressing 'public school' vibes emulating from your backpack," said Webb, empathy lacing her words.

I raised my eyebrows, agreeing. "You've got that right. My cousin and his best friends are cool and there's another new girl who's super sweet, but there are these two other idiotic messes that just make me – ugh, they're just…terrible people."

Day held up a hand. "Let me guess – Jackson Whittemore and Lydia Martin?"

I was taken aback by her knowledge of the two. "You know them?"

They all shook their heads.

"Our former team member, Turner, went to Beacon. She graduated this past Spring, but she was so annoyed with Jackson and Lydia. Jackson was just a year younger than her, but Lydia was a freshman. Those two are like great white sharks that decided to form an alliance." Webb rolled her eyes.

"Jackson is no brains all brawn and Lydia is no nothing, all lipstick and skirts," I chuckled darkly. "They've sure got an attitude problem."

"They come to the matches sometimes and criticize us all on our hairdos," Jett scoffed.

"We're wearing helmets," Avery chimed in. "What else do they expect from us?"

"A Gucci fashion show," I said sarcastically.

The girls giggled.

I knew then that I would definitely enjoy my time on the Beacon Hills Bullets.


Thank you so much to Guest and GorditaBossinova for reviewing! It's so nice to know that you are interested in Maddie and how she fits into the story. I think you guys are up for some pleasant (or not so pleasant) surprises this next chapter. Speaking of which, I will try to post a new chapter at least once a week, but I am a college student who has a VERY busy major, so I'm really sorry if it's a month or two between updates! I'm trying to bust out like three more chapters before I go back after spring break ends. But thank you guys so much for reviewing! It means a lot. :) Reviewing encourages me to keep writing! Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter of Tear in My Heart, and I will talk to you guys next time. See ya!