Surname / TITLE / 36
(03/25/2015) AN: Hello everyone! I live! What can I say? My life has totally and completely changed in the last three months. Since the new year, I have moved twice, started a new job, got a new cat, and dumped about 150 lbs of unsupportive weight that was only dragging me down. Things are still a little rocky; but, they're beginning to look up.
I hope you enjoy this little blurb. I really have no idea what the purpose of it was. For now, it's just something to get me writing again. There's so much I want to do with Laura, but it's not coming to me as easily as some other things. Oh well; it's about 6K of fluff.
I've really got to stop writing interviews...
#
Laura flipped her shoulder length braid over her shoulder as she walked into her Humanities 101 classroom. Her stylish, navy Jansport backpack was slung across one shoulder with a calculated perfection. Her outfit for the day had been painstakingly selected to project the correct aura of calm sophistication with a hint of mystery.
Several other students had already taken seats. Everyone sat quietly, flipping through their text books, arranging notebooks and pens on their desks, or staring at nothing. Except for one old lady with gray hair and a middle aged man, everyone appeared to be close to her age. At least one of them was destined to become her best friend!
A young woman who had been staring at the blank dry erase board met Laura's wandering gaze and gave her a half hearted smile. She wore a light blue tank top and white short shorts.
"Hi!" the petite brunette cheerfully greeted as she took the seat next to the blond smiler. "I'm Laura." Her backpack fell to the floor, forgotten in the excitement of meeting someone new.
"Angela." She extended an open hand. "Sounds like a super exciting class, huh?"
Laura clasped the hand in her own as she inwardly cheered at making a friend so quickly. "Oh, extremely. But, I'm really not sure how Humanities is going to relate to my major. I really want to be a writer. Journalist, actually. I think it would be the coolest thing in the world to interview athletes and write their stories."
"Ooh, okay." Angela leaned down and pulled a textbook from of her over sized purse. She flipped through it, staring at the pages in an attempt to shut out the rest of the world.
"So." Laura leaned closer to Angela. Words fell from her lips like water spewing from a broken faucet. "What's your major? Is this your first quarter? It's mine. I'm new to the area. Where are you from?"
Barbie pink, manicured nails nervously tapped on the student-carved surface of the desk as Angela once more focused her attention on the over-enthusiastic girl next to her. "Mind slowing down and taking a breath?" One eyebrow went up in surprise. "Yeah, this is my first quarter. Humanities 101 is an intro course; everyone in here is either an idiot who flunked or first timer like us. So, chill, okay?"
"Oh." Laura sighed. Maybe she'd come on too strongly.
"I, uh... Like your earrings," Angela complimented in an attempt to soften her snippy reply.
"Really?" Laura's smile spread even wider across her face. "I got them from-"
"Hello, everyone," the professor greeted as she entered. Professor Lake strode into the room with a massive pile of papers in her arms. "This is Humanities and I'll be your instructor for the next ten weeks. Regardless of what you may believe, this is an important class. Without understanding and exploring cultures and views different than our own, we become stick-in-the-mud isolationists. As such, there are three cultural projects that will make up forty percent of your grade." She stood in front of the first row of desks and counted how many students were in the row before passing out an appropriately sized stack of syllabus. "The first of these is an interview. I'd like you to talk to someone outside your own culture and write a short piece about what makes them who they are and how their culture varies from your own."
Laura's mind raced to the perfect interview subjects- the Mighty Ducks. She could have the best paper out of anyone in class. What could possibly be more culturally diverse than aliens? And with her uncle working as their manager, she was sure to get an interview! She squirmed in her seat, hardly able to contain herself. She thrust her hand in the air.
"Yes?" Professor Lake adjusted her glasses and looked at Laura.
"What about aliens? Could we interview an alien for the paper?"
"The correct term is immigrant; and, yes, you may interview an immigrant."
"No, I meant aliens. Like, from space." Hockey playing aliens from space, to be precise.
Professor Lake actually laughed. "Sure, if you can find one." She laughed again and turned to the board. "Now, open your books to page thirteen."
Angela's eyebrows tried to disappear into her hairline as she gaped at Laura. Shaking her head, she turned her attention to the textbook and found the specified page.
Laura could barely pay attention for the rest of class. Questions raced through her head, distracting her from the professor's words.
As soon as the clock hit one thirty, she was out the door and on her way to the metrolink.
#
Laura stood just outside the delivery door of the Pond. She really couldn't understand why Uncle Phil didn't just give her a code to the arena. After all, they were family and she loved visiting him at work!
An elderly, black man opened the door for her when she buzzed. He looked at her for a moment, confused, before recognition struck.
"Hello, Laura," Chuck greeted. "I don't think Mr. Palmfeather was expecting you."
"No." She shifted the heavy backpack in an attempt to make it more comfortable. "I started classes today and wanted to see if he could help me with an assignment. Do you think I could see him?"
He scratched at his cheek, face contorted by indecision. Wildwing had been very specific about who was and was not allowed into the arena, especially when they weren't expected. But, he knew Laura, sort of. Besides, sending her up to Phil was bound to be entertaining.
"All right," he stepped aside. "Come in."
"Thank you!" She bobbed in happiness and entered the blessedly cool arena. Even if the delivery door was in the underground parking lot, the Californian heat was still stifling.
Chuck kept easy conversation between them flowing while they walked to Phil's office.
The plump manager leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on his massive desk, while he smooth talked someone on the phone. As soon as he saw Chuck and Laura, he dropped his feet and sat upright, holding up a finger to signal that he'd seen them.
"Sure thing," Phil promised. "They'll be there. Uh-huh... Yeah. Wildwing. Sure, I can get him for ya! All right, fax the contract on over. Yeah. Great doing business with you too. Okay. Ciao!" He hung up the phone and scribbled something on an open notebook spread across his desk. "Chuck! Got those new jerseys in yet?"
"Fraid not, Mr. Palmfeather. This delivery showed up first. Figured I'd drop her off. I'll be sure to let you know when they get here." His mission completed, he left with a wave.
"Hey, Laura." He checked the fax machine, eager for the contract to come through. "I'm really busy right now."
"I'm sorry, Uncle Phil." She dropped her backpack in one of the chairs in front of his desk and sat in the other. "It's just, I've got this assignment for one of my classes and it's a huge part of my grade. I was really hoping you could help me out."
"I'm not your uncle." He tapped the machine before opening the drawer to check that it had paper. "Huh... That fax should be coming through any second now... Oh, uh, yeah. What's the assignment?"
"I need to interview someone from a different culture. I figured, what could be more different than alien? Do you think you could maybe get me an interview with Nosedive?"
That pulled his attention away from the fax. "How much are you willing to pay for the interview?"
"Oh, uh..." She didn't think she'd have to pay for it. "I just thought, since you're family and all." She shrugged and looked down sadly. "I'm just a poor college student. I can't afford to pay for an interview." Heaving a deep sigh, she stood and collected her backpack. "I guess I'll have to interview some Mexican at a taco stand or something. I'm sure Prof. Lake wouldn't mind getting another paper just like everyone else's."
"Wait," Phil stared at her, thinking. "Look, kid, you've got to keep in mind, I'm running a business here. Television and radio stations have to pay to get time with the Ducks. If they found out I'm just giving away interviews for free, I couldn't charge them anything, and I'd go bankrupt!"
"It's okay." She tried to force a lone tear out. "I understand."
His shoulders slumped at the dejected way she stood there, halfway out the door. "Fine. Let's see if Wildwing's in his office."
"Really?" She perked up like a Pop Tart jumping out of a toaster.
"I'm not promising you anything. If he's got a few minutes, he might do it." He grabbed a coffee mug from his desk and started out the door.
"What about Nosedive? Do you think Nosedive would?" Laura followed without delay.
"You ever try keeping track of six alien ducks? I'm telling ya, it's no easy task! Every time I turn around, one of them's off fighting crime or getting mauled by rabid fans at the mall. Next to Duke, Nosedive's probably the hardest one to find."
"Where does he go?"
"Who, Duke? Beats me. Guy can disappear while you're looking at him!"
"No," she scoffed. "Nosedive."
"Usually the comic store, sometimes the beach or movies." He led her into the player lounge. "Wait here." A quick sniff of the coffee pot proved the lukewarm coffee to be of an acceptable strength. "I'll go get Wildwing."
"Can't I come?"
"Trust me," he set the pot back on the burner after filling his mug, "He'll be more likely to do it if you're not there. Give me five minutes and I'll be right back."
"Okay."
"They usually do interviews at the table or those chairs over there. Make yourself comfortable. You can get something to eat or drink from the fridge if you want."
"Thanks!" As soon as he left, she was up and exploring the lounge.
#
"Okay, Phil, buddy, 'ol pal. You got this." The Mighty Ducks' manager gave himself the usual pep talk as he walked towards Wildwing's office. "Just walk in there, tell him he's got an interview, and he'll do it. No problem."
His hard heeled shoes clicked noisily in the nearly empty hallway on his way to the former coach's offices. "No arguments, no pleading. You're the manager, he's the player. He has to do what you say!"
Wildwing, Duke, and Mallory had each claimed an office as their own. It made things much easier as far as mail delivery, meetings, and planning games went. While Wildwing generally took care of managing the team schedule and approving publicity stunts, Duke handled the banking side of things, and Mallory managed on-ice tactics and plays. Phil assumed Tanya, Nosedive, and Grin each had their own additional responsibilities, but really didn't know what they were.
As expected, Wildwing was at his desk. Duke sat next to him with a ledger spread out in front of them.
"Just about done with paying off the repairs to the museum," Duke said. "But the steel mill's gonna take another two or three months."
"What about supplies for repairs to the motorcycle Mallory wrecked? Do we have enough for that?"
Phil knocked on the metal door frame, causing the two drakes to look up.
"Hey, guys. Sorry to interrupt."
"Yes?" It was one of the few times Phil ever heard that word from the leader's beak without having to work for it.
"You have ten minutes?"
"Maybe." Wildwing already had that guarded look, like he was expecting something nefarious out of his lovable manager. "What for?"
"Well, you see, Laura's here and she needs help with an assignment."
"Laura?" Duke looked confused for a moment. "Your niece that just moved here, right?"
"She's not my niece," Phil reminded yet again.
"What kind of help?" Wildwing asked warily.
"It's no big deal," he sipped his coffee. "She'd like a short interview."
Wildwing and Duke looked at each other. Duke pointed to a line on the ledger and gave the team captain a pointed look.
"Another one-fifty'd go a long ways there."
Phil couldn't believe his luck. Duke was actually helping him! Unfortunately, there wasn't any pay involved with this interview.
"Uh... This one would be on the house." Just saying the words nearly made him choke.
Wildwing's jaw literally dropped in astonishment. "Free? You're wanting me to do something for free?" That was it, Phil had lost his mind.
"Look, she's just a kid. It's not like she has a lot of money! She's going to college. Do you have any idea how expensive that is?"
Wildwing shook his head. "No, Phil."
"And what do you get out of it?" Duke looked up at the pudgy human in curiosity. "S'not like you to give away our time like that."
"Keeping Laura happy keeps my sister happy."
Duke half snorted, half laughed. "Since when do you care about making anyone other than yourself happy?"
"I care!" Phil pretended hurt. "I care about keeping you guys happy enough to win games! I care about making our fans happy. I'm not some heartless businessman."
"Could have fooled me," Wildwing muttered with a half hidden smile. "Fine," he sighed. "Five minutes. And you pay the team for my time."
"What!" No way. "That's highway robbery! You'd charge your own manager?"
"Hey," Duke chipped in, "You're the one always saying we shouldn't give away autographs and stuff for free."
Oh, the pain! He couldn't believe they were doing this to him. "I'll pay ten percent of the going rate for interviews."
"Sixty." Wildwing had learned well from Duke.
"Fifteen and you give her ten minutes."
"Fifty."
"Twenty percent, twenty minutes."
"Forty-five, fifteen."
Phil pursed his lips in contemplation. Dare he push him? "Twenty-five, twenty."
"Thirty, fifteen."
"Deal." That was as good as he was going to get. He hated parting with his own cash, but at least it kept Laura out of his hair for a while.
"Check, now." Duke wasn't going to let Phil get away with 'forgetting.'
"Bubbe, would I stiff my own team?"
"In a word? Yes." Duke crossed his arms and leaned back, leveling a rather intimidating stare at the human.
"The checkbook's in my office. I'll give it to you later."
"How much cash ya got on you?"
"None?" He refused to pull out his wallet.
"Eh," Duke shrugged and stood, stretching his arms above his head and cracking his back. He closed the ledger and paused next to Phil before leaving. "I'll get it from you, don't worry." He laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled.
"That's what I'm afraid of," he muttered. "Got time now, Wildwing?"
"Let's get this over with."
"I'll be in my office if ya need me!" Duke called out when he saw them heading towards the player lounge.
After handing Wildwing off to Laura, Phil returned to his office. He sank into his comfortable chair and swung back and forth a few times before he realized that a particular lump he usually sat on was missing. He checked his back pocket and found nothing.
"What? Where's my wallet?" A quick check of the rest of his pockets and his desk proved it was indeed missing. "Duke!"
#
Wildwing walked into the lounge with the hope that Laura's interview wouldn't be too annoying. Chances were, it would be. Professional journalists lacked the ability to tell if a question was too personal or flat out rude; either that or they didn't care. An obsessed fan given the opportunity to ask him anything she wanted for a full fifteen minutes? He cringed at the thought.
Laura was patiently sitting in one of the plush, white chairs near the television. Her book bag lay on the floor and she had a spiral bound notebook open on her lap. An open bottle of red Gatoraid sat on the end table next to her.
"Hello," he greeted as he sank into the chair across from her.
"Hi!" Her eyes went wide and she practically jumped out of her seat at his appearance. She thrust an open hand towards him for a handshake.
He crooked a small smile, stood, and shook her hand before sitting down again.
"Mr. Flashblade, thank you so much for helping me." She somehow gave 'so' many more syllables than the simple word possessed.
"You're welcome; and, you can call me Wildwing. Mr. Flashblade gets too confusing."
"Really? Because of your brother?" She hugged the unused notebook to her chest as leaned forward, drinking in every word. "Oh, I can just imagine it, really." She nodded with a knowing look. "Lots of reporters asking 'Mr. Flashblade' at big press conferences and you two not knowing which one they wanted."
"Something like that." He glanced at the clock- 2:12. "I've got fifteen minutes, so we should wrap this up by two-thirty at the latest. Okay?" Actually, he could spend as long as he wanted; he and Duke had pretty much finished up going over the team finances when Phil had interrupted him and he'd already finalized the practice, appearances, and travel schedule for the next two weeks. The afternoon was now his to do whatever he wanted. What he wanted was a trip to the library and some new books to read.
"Okay!" The notebook fell to her knees as she straightened up. "Um..." She started chewing on her her lips, not knowing what to ask first.
Wildwing waited patiently for her to get started.
"So, are you really from another planet?" From the confused look on her face, she wasn't sure if that was an appropriate question to ask or not.
"Yes," he smiled. "A different universe, actually. There are a lot of similarities between Anaska and here, but a lot of differences too."
"Okay." She scribbled something before looking up at him again. "Are you really a duck?"
Ooh boy. He smiled inwardly at her complete loss of what to do. Her inarticulateness was common for someone who had been so eager to be in the same room as one of them and suddenly had their dream come true.
"Quack." He couldn't help himself, he had to do it.
"Huh?" Her eyebrows tried their best to meet. "Does that mean yes?"
Wildwing's laugh was light and warm, void of any mockery and full of amusement.
"Yes," he nodded. Having pity on her, he decided to take control of the discussion. "What's your assignment? Phil said you needed to interview one of us; but, I'm not sure exactly what you're looking for."
She opened her backpack, digging around a little before finding the proper folder for her humanities class and retrieving the syllabus with her assignment on it.
"I need to interview someone from a different culture." She relinquished the papers to him when he held out his hand.
The team captain scanned the assignment, making note of what points she needed to cover.
"Hm." He handed the papers back to her. "Looks like an interesting class. Would you mind giving me a copy of your final essay when you're done?"
"What?" She looked over the syllabus again, double checking the requirements for her final essay.
"I'm curious to see what comparisons you make between our cultures and how humans see us. I think your paper would be interesting to read."
Her cheeks turned red and she pulled her head down towards her shoulders. "Um... Yeah! Sure! Okay. Uh..." She looked at the paper again, trying to get started with the actual interview.
Wildwing gently guided the conversation towards what he thought she might need.
"Anaska is cold, much colder than anywhere on Earth I've visited. We have eight months of deep winter; spring and fall are very short and summer only lasts for a month."
"Anaska?" She chewed on the end of her pen. "Is that the country you're from?"
"No, the planet. I'm from Anak. We all are. There are other countries. Zaban's to the south of Anak and Cydion is to the west."
"But, Uncle Phil said you're from Puckworld. That's what everything printed about you says!"
"Don't believe everything your uncle tells you," his voice took on a more serious tone. "He's more interested in how to market us than telling the truth. He thought Puckworld sounded more hockey-ish and would convince the NHL to let us join." He shrugged. "I guess it worked. As far as half-truths go, that one's mostly harmless. Annoying, but harmless."
She took several minutes to hand write her notes while Wildwing waited patiently. When she looked up again, she was smiling. "This is going to be the best essay Prof. Lake reads."
He glanced to the clock again before continuing. "Snow and ice being everywhere probably did the most to shape our culture; that and the First Saurian Invasion. We use skimmers to get around; but, I think you'd call them hover cars. If you're not driving, you're skating, skiing, or snowshoeing. Hockey is the main sport on all of Anaska; but, it's not as dominant to our culture as Phil made out. Everyone plays hockey on Anaska the way everyone in America plays football."
"I don't play football." The end of her pen found its way to her mouth again. "I don't even like it." Realizing what she was doing, she pulled the plastic from her teeth and lay the pen on the paper. "So... Invasion?"
"Nobody's exactly sure when the First Saurian Invasion happened. It was at least a thousand years ago. Saurians from another planet attacked ours and enslaved the population. There was one hero, Drake DuCaine, who gathered a resistance force and fought them. He freed Anaska and sent the Saurians into Dimensional Limbo." All information about the Mask was purposefully left out. "Drake DuCaine invented hockey and we play it to honor him and stay in shape. Hockey is about much more than winning games; it's teamwork and pushing your limits. Hockey teaches us how to accept loosing and come back from defeat stronger than before. And, if you're like Grin, it's a form of meditation and the guiding principles of life."
"What's your favorite color?"
His thoughts stopped as quickly as if he'd been checked into the glass at the question. It was so far removed from what he'd been talking about that it took him a moment to recover. "Green."
"What's Nosedive's?"
"Uh- blue."
"What's it like being trapped in another world with no family other than your brother?"
Ouch. There was the lack of tact he'd expected when this began. A growling, half sigh worked its way out from deep inside.
"It sucks." All amusement vanished. He hated that question. What did she expect him to say? That life was hunky dory and he didn't mind not knowing how his homeworld was recovering from the invasion, or if they were managing at all? That being stuck on a hot planet with only five other beings like himself in the entire universe wasn't lonely? That being laughed at and treated like some sort of freak was perfectly fine?
"What are Nosedive's favorite activities?" She continued the strange line of questioning, oblivious to the change in her subject's demeanor.
"Hockey, going to the mall, and hanging out with his friends." This wasn't going to help her with her project; it was all information she could learn by asking Phil or reading whatever garbage the tabloids made up for them. "What else do you need for your paper?"
"Heh." She flashed a nervous grin before looking at her syllabus again. "Uh... Food. What's Nosedive's favorite food?"
"Here or at home?" He continued without giving her a chance to answer. "Tacos for here, zeresk for home. Zeresk is a fruity, spicy rice with nuts. Finding foods we can eat here was a challenge at first, but we've managed. We don't eat anything made with eggs or poultry. Seafood is the only meat we eat; everything else is grains, fruits, and vegetables. And we eat a lot. I almost feel sorry for Kari and her kitchen crew; she says the six of us eat as much as a full human hockey team."
"Is there a way to make zeresk here? What's in it?" Her pen hovered over the paper, ready for a recipe to be handed out so she could make it.
"Earth doesn't have zereski berries." His gaze unfocused as he thought. "I guess blueberries might work; but, they're too sweet. I don't really have a recipe. It'd be pretty hit and miss if I tried to make it."
"Is there anything here that's exactly like Puc- uh, Anaska? Foodwise, I mean." Disappointment at not being handed Nosedive's favorite recipe darkened her smile.
"Coconut oil." He still couldn't believe their luck that something so rare back home was so easily obtainable here. "But that's an offworld import and really expensive. Pistachios, carrots, potatoes. It's pretty random what things match up and what doesn't. Shrimp is something I'll miss when we find a way home."
"Nosedive likes shrimp and coconut?"
What was it with all the questions about Nosedive? She wasn't going to get a very good grade if she kept this up.
"Yes; we all do."
"Um... Ooh! Family dynamics." Excitement brightened her voice. "What are families like? Do all siblings get along like you and Nosedive?"
"Duck families can be as varied as human ones." At least she was getting back on track. "Most families have one or two ducklings. Extended families might live together. Elders are always treated with respect, even if they're not related."
"You and Nosedive get along really, really well. Do you tell each other everything?"
"Oh, sure." He delivered his answer with dead sincerity. "We sit up at night, gossiping about which Power Player is the cutest and I sometimes braid his hair for him. Then we'll find a movie to watch and eat ice cream while telling each other all our secrets."
"That is so sweet!" She practically bounced out of the chair, giddy at the thought of the two of them sharing quality time. "What about romantic relationships? Would any of you date a human?"
"Are you interviewing me or trying to get a date with my brother?" He had to fight to hold back his laughter. The thought that they were adult drakes and would never act like stereotypical, teenage, human girls had never occurred to her. Guilt at her gullibility nibbled on his amusement.
"Both?" She gazed hopefully into his eyes.
"I don't know about the others; but, I doubt he'd go out with a human." Humans looked too much like naked monkeys with flat faces to be attractive. Their general attitude of either disgust or hero worship towards him and his team was pretty hard to get past too. And he knew Nosedive wanted nothing more than to dump buckets of glitter filled, ice water on the hoards of young women who practically stalked him; the glitter needed to be added so they'd have to spend days getting it out of their hair- not that the younger drake had experienced the same lesson himself, courtesy of a pranked-one-too-many-times Power Player.
"Oh." Her face fell and she studied the notes she'd been taking. The end of her pen found its way to her mouth again. After a pause, she continued. "Do you think he'd ever change his mind?"
"I doubt it." Wildwing leaned back, elbow resting on the back of his chair. "What else did you need to cover? You have five minutes left."
"Oh! Uh..." A quick scan of her assignment provided the next question. "How old-"
"Have you seen these?" Mallory's demand overrode Laura's question as the redhead stormed into the player lounge, a green jersey in hand.
"Seen what?" Thank you, Mallory; any distraction from this strange mixture of interview amusement and annoyance was more than welcome.
"This!" Mallory threw the jersey at him and crossed her arms.
Wildwing cringed as he unfolded the jersey and held it up. The color stood somewhere between kelly green and teal with white across the shoulders and bottom. A cartoon version of their mascot leaped from exploding ice printed near the bottom, a goal stick held high overhead.
Horror and embarrassment danced across his face before he finally managed to speak. "Is that Daffy?"
"Yes." She growled lowly. "This is not the design I okayed."
"Wait," Wildwing tore his eyes from the jersey, "These aren't the throwback jerseys, are they?"
Mallory raised an eyebrow and nodded once.
"I'm going to kill Phil." Remembering Laura's presence, he quickly apologized. "Sorry. I'm going to have a stern discussion with him."
"And he may or may not be alive afterwords," Mallory added, a sinister smile crossing her face. "Want some help?"
"What are throwback jerseys?" Laura spoke up, leaning forward and drinking in every word between captain and right wing.
"The NHL is doing a series of retro games next week," Wildwing responded. "Teams wear jerseys from ten or twenty years ago. Problem is, our team is only a year old and Mallory had to design something new."
"Then, where did this come from?" Laura motioned towards the green jersey.
"His nightmares." Mallory smirked.
Wildwing snorted in derision before standing. "I'm sorry, Laura; but, I've got to take care of this."
"But, what about my interview?" She stared at him, pleading for more time.
Wildwing rubbed the back of his neck before shrugging. It wasn't like she was taking the assignment seriously anyway, despite his attempts at keeping them on track. "What else did you need?"
Laura glanced at the syllabus for two seconds before dropping it to her lap. "How tall are you?"
"Uh..." He raised a single eyebrow. That information was easily available and wouldn't help with her paper. "Five havan." He shrugged and stood by Mallory.
"Earth," the redhead reminded.
Wildwing rolled his eyes before turning to Laura once more. "Six foot one, two twenty, I'll turn twenty-one in Prilen- uh, April. Yes, I'm left winged and so is Nosedive. Good luck on your assignment." With that, he and Mallory left.
#
Laura sighed deeply, hunching over the notebook she had scribbled the information Wildwing had given her in. Honestly, this paper was going to be the best thing Prof. Lake had ever read! She scribbled the deepest, most thought provoking thesis sentence she could come up with:
There are many similarities and differences between the Mighty Ducks and the rest of the human race.
There. One line done. Only a whole page to finish. This would be easy. No problem.
A seagull flying outside the window distracted her for several minutes. Thoughts of how the Mighty Ducks really were like other birds floated through her mind. Did their poop look like runny sea gull poop or like what the geese left on the sidewalk? Ugh. That was disgusting. Back to the essay!
Wildwing is one of the nicest people you could ever meet. He personally sat down with me for several hours, regaling me with stories of his home world. It sounds like an amazing place. It has to be if someone as nice as him came from there.
Was that laying it on too thick? She pursed her lips, thinking. Nah, not at all.
Wildwing is the team captain of the Mighty Ducks. His brother is Nosedive. Nosedive's favorite color is blue and he likes to eat berry flavored rice. But, we don't have the berries he likes here. I guess that's because Earth isn't that cold.
Laura leaned back on her bed, glanced at the pink journal sitting next to it, and smiled to herself. Who cared about a boring old essay anyway? She'd far rather add another entry to that than do homework.
Dear Diary,
Today I went to the Pond and spent the whole day with Wildwing and Uncle Phil. Uncle Phil was really busy, so he sent Chuck to let me in and personally escort me around the place. He was working on some sort of big deal for the team to endorse and promised to run it by me first to make sure they would agree to it.
You see, Uncle Phil has decided to hire me on as his personal assistant / PR agent for the Mighty Ducks. I'm the one who decides if they go to an autograph signing or not. It's very important work.
Anyway, Wildwing heard that I have this extremely important assignment due for college and volunteered to sit down with me and work on it. We spent hours going over stories of Puckworld; only, it's not really Puckworld. They don't want to tell everyone the real name of their planet because astronauts here might try to invade. But, he told me. It's Alaska. Kind of weird that their planet's name is the same as one of our states.
Laura laughed to herself, thinking of astronauts invading Alaska. What would they do, kiss the moose and wrestle grizzly bears? They could probably go ice skating.
Oh, that would be amazing! Wildwing promised to take me to our Alaska at some point. We're going to go ice skating on a frozen lake under the northern lights. Well, either Wildwing or Nosedive is going to take me. I really hope it's Nosedive. He's so handsome and cute and funny. Or, he is on television. I haven't really met him in person yet.
Yeah. Back to the big, important story I was telling. Their world is frozen year round; spring and summer don't even exist. They have to import everything, from coconut to shrimp. Shrimp is another of Nosedive's favorite foods.
The freshman sank back into her pillows, images of Nosedive dancing through her mind. She was going to meet him. And, when they did, it would be love at first sight.
I'm going to meet up with Nosedive next week and we're going out to Jim's Big Crab Shanty for coconut crusted shrimp and pina coladas. Wildwing's going to set us up for a date after the big throwback game. I can't wait!
The team got these amazing new jerseys. They're a beautiful green and white and have Wildwing on them. How cool is it to actually have the team captain on the jersey? He must be really proud of Phil's decision to promote him like that.
Well, I have that huge paper to finish. I should get going on that. After all, if I don't maintain a perfect GPA, I can't keep my job with the team.
She yawned, set the journal aside, and began finishing her essay.