Closer Than We Thought
Chapter 9: Ducks Fly Forever

A/N- Hmm... it's been ages, but at least it's a nice long chapter. At least by my standards. That counts for something, right? ^_^

*****

"Russ?"

Russ nods in silent acknowledgement, but he doesn't turn from where he's sitting and staring out the window. He is not in a good mood. Not at all.

And how can anyone possibly blame him? Or then again, maybe we should've known a little thing like a funeral wouldn't stop Mrs. Madigan from handing out detentions.

"What time is it?"

"Five."

She scowls. "You'll be out of here at four-thirty. Plenty of time."

What? But the funeral's forty-five minutes away... Russ tries to tell her that but she just snaps, "Show up. Or else."

He didn't go. Now he's suspended for a week. A week! She's just out to get him. And this damned school doesn't care. Nobody's going to pay them for letting him off, so they aren't letting him off, regardless of how stupid the reason behind the suspension is. And it gets worse. Because we both know that if the JV team was winning, they would never even think about suspending a hockey player.

I'm getting so bitter lately. Sigh.

Russ didn't throw a fit about it, like certain other Ducks (or ex-Ducks, who probably consider all of us ex-Ducks) would have. He's just furious. So am I, for that matter. But I can't show it, not now anyway. I can't do anything for him if I'm pissed off too.

When I don't answer him, he does turn around. "Yeah?" He sounds like he wants to kill me for daring to speak to him, but I know better. I don't mind being vented at, and besides, I owe him.

And I'm madly in love with him. Yeah. Let's not forget that part.

I edge over and take his hand. "We'll figure out something."

"Like what? When my dad finds out my ass is gonna be busted so bad I won't be able to sit down for a month."

I let my expression darken a little bit. I've met Russ's dad once, and I do not like the man at all. He seemed nice enough, but he just rubbed me the wrong way—and with the way Russ always talks about him, he's awfully demanding. And not too forgiving when those demands aren't met.

A thought hits me. Well, at least my brain decides to work now rather than somewhere I don't need it—like biology.

"He's not going to do anything to you. He's not going to find out."

Russ's furious mask cracks and he gives me a very strange look. "What're you on about? You certainly don't think they won't call about it cuz of the long distance bill?"

Both of us laugh, a little. "I've got an idea. You aren't gonna get suspended," I promise, standing. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

He watches, dumbfounded, as I head out the door, but when I turn around and blow him a kiss, he actually smiles.

If Russ can be the Duck who forces everyone to get over all our pain, surely I can be the Duck who gets our bright spot out of suspension.

*****

Eden Hall has a rule that says nobody can coach an athletic team unless they're teaching at least one class. No, not even if the team is hockey.

Coach Orion's accounting class has a longer name when people in the class talk about it. Accounting and Work Ethics. Maybe we should start calling the JV team Hockey and Work Ethics.

He's in the classroom, which surprises me a little. But not a lot. Probably working, but truthfully, I don't care if I'm interrupting anything. This is more important than someone's stupid accounting test.

"Coach."

He looks up, surprised. That's probably the first time anyone on the team has ever called him just 'Coach.' Too informal, too friendly. Just because we're getting used to him doesn't mean we like him. Or that we have to be anything more than civil to him. "Is there a problem, Wu?"

"Russ is going to be suspended next week." Way to go, Ken. Surely you don't think he doesn't already know that.

"I know. Disrespecting teachers, again. I don't know what that has to do with me."

Well, maybe this will be more productive than I thought. "He got a detention because he was mouthing off to Mrs. Madigan. He got suspended because she scheduled it during Hans' funeral, so he skipped it. Mrs. Madigan knew about it. You know that if we were winning more games they wouldn't dream of suspending him. It's not just unfair, it's sick and wrong. You can get them to cancel it. You're the hockey coach!"

He watches me very carefully. I don't know if it's because he's mad, or because I've said more in about the last two minutes than he hears in a normal week. Maybe a little of both.

"I don't do special favors for people when they get themselves in trouble," he says finally, frowning. Didn't he hear anything I just said? But then he stands and starts pacing next to the desk. "Ken, all this has been awfully hard on you, hasn't it? More than the others."

"Yeah." Talk about understatements. And I'm still not sure why.

"I knew Hans very well." It sounds almost like he's talking to himself. "He was a coach, before he and his brother opened their equipment shop. He kept coaching peewee for awhile after that. He taught me almost everything I know about hockey."

I stare. Nobody had any idea about this, I'm sure. I'm equally sure that he didn't learn his obsession with work from Hans. From what little I knew of the man, he seemed very easygoing. 'Easygoing' is not a word in Coach Orion's vocabulary. (Of course not. It doesn't start with a W.)

"I know that you're right, that they don't suspend hockey players here if the team is winning. And strange as it probably sounds, I'm glad Russ considered it so important to go to the funeral." Am I really hearing this? "So, yes. I'll talk to the Dean about the suspension. Just remember that I can't make any promises. And he'll still have to serve the detention sometime."

I nod enthusiastically and turn to leave. "Thanks, Coach."

"Wu."

I pause on my way out the door. "Yeah?"

"Any particular reason you're the one coming to me with this?"

That was not what you were supposed to ask. "I'm his roommate. When something puts him in a bad mood I'm the one that hears about it." Well, it beats flat-out lying, at least.

He nods, but I don't think I've convinced him. Oh well. Not near the worst of my worries, so I don't worry. I did what I came here to do.

*****

Saturday seems to come a lot faster than usual. Maybe it's because of the way Friday flew by. Russ and I entered biology to meet up with an apoplectic Mrs. Madigan—looking even more like a mad bull than usual, which must be awful hard to do.

"Mr. Tyler," she fairly hissed, "your suspension's been cancelled. You will serve your detention this afternoon."

We were in a great mood for the rest of the day, and the rest of the Ducks probably thought we were crazy. Let 'em. They're all lightening up too. Slowly but surely, we're all getting more or less over the worst of the pain from Hans' death.

Which is good, because there's no time for moping around when schoolyard puck is involved.

Russ and I take off down the street, as fast as we can skate while carrying hockey gear. Which is probably faster than is good for us. Or anybody unlucky enough to pop out right in front of us.

In this case, it's Goldberg.

"Ow! Hey, why don't you guys watch where you're skating?"

"More fun to run over you," Russ answers promptly.

He shakes his head, tries to get up, and falls down again. Once he manages to regain his footing we set off again, at a considerably slower rate. "So have you guys heard?" he asks. "Or were you too busy gloating over making Mrs. Madigan hate you even more?"

"We've heard lots of things," Russ cracks. "Which one're you askin' about?"

He smirks. "Guy and Connie are back together."

"Again?" I try to remember if I even knew they had broken up.. this time. It's impossible to try to keep track of those two. They've probably been on and off this year more times than Luis has been with someone, and that is just insane. Or beyond insane. Hard to say. Maybe a better word would be ridiculous.

"It gets better. Averman says Luis stole Riley's cheerleader."

"And you believed him?"

Goldberg looks uncomfortable. "Well, yeah."

"Wait for him to get a witness," Russ advises. "And when are you going to get a girlfriend, eh Goldy?"

"As soon as you do?"

Russ and I exchange glances and burst out laughing.

*****

"Watch the puck, not me!"

Everyone tries very hard not to laugh as Guy turns bright red and turns his full attention back to the game. Just watch them break up over it.

While Guy was not paying attention to the puck, Fulton (who luckily for him is on his team) swiped it and let loose with a cannon shot. Goldberg was smart enough to get out of the way. I think they're winning now, but I'm not keeping score. Probably nobody is.

Russ grabs the puck and fires it up to me. I consider trying a shot on Julie, but think better of it and snap a quick pass off to Cowboy.

That's when I see Banks.

He wasn't here when we started—admittedly, nobody told him what time to show up, but standard Duck operating procedure is to show up at 2 if the time isn't set. It's probably around 3 now. Nobody else has noticed him, and he's just standing outside the fence watching us. He looks nervous. Who can blame him?

I get Russ's attention. "Company."

"Great!" His trademark grin splits his face as he waves enthusiastically to the nervous Varsity jock. "Hey Cake-eater, what're you waitin' for?"

He shrugs and glances around. Only a few Ducks are paying any attention, and apparently he can see that they aren't preparing to kill him. He skates in. "So which team am I on?"

*****

Banks was eventually assigned to our team, and I'm reasonably sure that we're winning now. Not that I really think anyone cares. Julie's not even in the net... er... can... er... goal anymore, she's trying to skate. The funniest thing is, she's scored. Twice.

"Hey, it's Coach Bombay!"

What?! I stop skating and look at Cowboy. Sure enough, there's Coach Bombay standing outside the fence, along with... I do a double take. Is that Captain Duck? And is he smiling? I look at Bombay, who grins at me. It's official, folks. The Minnesota Miracle Man has done it again.

I want to collapse with relief... but that would get me run over. So I don't.