Guy was playing his Game Boy Advance when Adam trudged into their dorm room and plopped onto the bed, forearm over his eyes in frustration.
"Guy, please tell me this isn't happening."
Guy's eyes did not leave the game screen. "What are you doing back so early--I thought you and Tom were going to the movies? Did the fact that you were about to spend two hours watching 'The Notebook' finally hit you? I mean, those are two hours of your life you're never going to get back."
Adam's voice was muffled with his face in his hands. "Tamsin took Pilar instead. About halfway to the theater she stopped the car, turned around and dropped me off back here. Tamsin said she didn't want my wallowing to ruin her Ryan Gosling experience."
Guy's face scrunched up in concentration as he reached a difficult part of his game. "It really isn't that bad. Charlie will get over it. It's not like you planned on getting captain."
Adam sighed. "I know, but I'm sure that Charlie thinks I did. You should have seen the look he gave me after practice—he had murder in his eyes."
"Well, what are you going to do?" Adam thought, and the only noise in the room was Guy's incessant button-tapping and the music blaring from the room next door.
A pent-up energy seemed to burst within Adam. "I don't know! I don't have the leadership abilities to run this team! Oh crap, I—"
"Chill, Adam! Get a hold of yourself, or else I'm going to be forced to put down my Game Boy Advance and kick your ass—and that won't be pretty."
Adam was stunned into silence. After a few moments, the two burst out laughing and Adam threw a pillow at Guy's head. "Seriously, what are you going to do?"
Adam became solemn again. "I guess I have to tell Wilson that I can't be captain." He changed the subject. "And what about you, Guy? What's going on with you and Francesca Nielson?"
Guy smiled, a locker-room grin meant to be shared between two males. "She was looking GOOD today with that skirt of hers, huh?"
"What about Connie? You dumped possibly the coolest girl we know for a girl who channels Jessica Simpson."
Guy frowned. "Don't say that—and let's not talk about Connie."
"Why not? Is that all you're going to say about someone you've dated since we can all remember? What went wrong?"
It was Guy's turn to look thoughtful. "I don't know. But I just woke up one day and things just didn't feel the same between us."
"Okay, so it's not the same. It's different because people change. The two of you aren't middle school students in puppy love anymore and you can't act that way. But can you honestly say that it's bad? Bad enough to give up something special for?"
Another silence pervaded the room and Guy gave Adam a sly smile before answering. "Did I tell you that Francesca just got a chromed-out Honda s2000 for her birthday? Six-speed manual transmission, black leather interior...Whew, it's a dandy."
Adam rolled his eyes. Guy really was something else.
"He knew all along that Wilson was going to choose him! He probably put Scooter up to giving him the recommendation!" Charlie paced back and forth in the dorm room he shared with Fulton Reed. Charlie had never been so furious in his life. Adam was so convincing that morning before homeroom. "Who else is Wilson going to choose?" Charlie knew now that it was all just an act.
"Come on, Charlie, be reasonable. You saw the look on Adam's face when Wilson made his announcement—he was just as surprised as the rest of us." Fulton thought back to freshman year, the last time Charlie thought he had been betrayed by Adam. Hell, all of the Ducks thought that Adam had been part of the Varsity prank at the Country Club. But now, Fulton knew Adam. Adam, Fulton believed, was not capable of consciously hurting any of his friends. So, as bad as it looked, Fulton had to believe that Adam truly was unaware of Coach Wilson's intention to name him captain over Charlie.
Charlie went on as if he did not hear Fulton. "And what was Wilson thinking? Adam doesn't have the skills to run this team! This is the guy who threw up during Public Speaking class sophomore year! We can't very well have him puking all over the team box whenever he has to speak before games."
Fulton frowned at Charlie's petty behavior. It surprised him because it was so unlike Charlie. "Man, that was out of line and you know it. Why do you have to be so hard on him? I thought he was your best friend. Just give him a chance. If Adam totally fucks up, the rest of us will do something about it. There's nothing to worry about."
Charlie's face was set. "There's no way we can wait for that to happen. I'm talking to Wilson tomorrow."
Fulton sighed and resigned himself. Undoubtedly this was going to get ugly, but his options right now were severely limited. All Fulton could do was sit back and prepare himself for the oncoming storm.
Charlie woke up bright and early the next morning, and repeating prepared words in his head as he headed towards Coach Wilson's office. "...In my personal opinion...lacks skills necessary...maintain health of the team..." Charlie was startled to see Adam already seated, obviously there for a purpose.
"What are you doing here?" Adam winced at the slight edge in Charlie's tone.
"I just wanted to talk to Wilson about some things." Adam kept his words deliberately vague—he did not want Charlie to know what his intentions were.
"Like going over all of your carefully-laid plans on how you want this team run?" Charlie almost felt a pang of regret as he witnessed an expression of genuine hurt on Adam's face. But Charlie quickly pushed that emotion away as he remembered his own hurt feelings. "Don't try to pretend with me, Banks—I know that you wanted it all along."
"That's not true, Charlie. I would never—"
"Are you gentlemen waiting for Coach Wilson?" A new voice interrupted their argument. Coach Wilson's assistant, George Johnson, appeared out of his own office. There was distress in his demeanor. "You didn't hear? Coach Wilson suffered a heart attack last night and is in the hospital right now."
Adam and Charlie were shocked. "Is he okay?" Neither of them was quite sure who said it—the moment felt surreal.
"Yes, yes, he'll be fine," Mr. Johnson assured the two. He lowered his voice. "But its likely Coach Wilson will not be back—he's been dealing with heart problems for years now. He'll probably take an early retirement to watch over his health."
Charlie knew that it was inappropriate, but he felt the need to ask. "What's going to happen with our Varsity team?"
Mr. Johnson ran a hand through his mussed hair. "I think Dean Buckley mentioned bringing Coach Orion up to Varsity while I would take over on the junior squad. Now, excuse me, I should probably head over to the hospital." He nodded and started walking down the gymnasium hallway, leaving Charlie and Adam alone. The two looked at each other, not quite sure how they felt about this piece of news. Charlie let Adam start walking out first, and then followed suit about fifteen seconds later.
Charlie finally realized the implications of the news and tried to suppress the ensuing jump-in-his-step. With Coach Orion taking over, Charlie would make quick work of returning his life on the ice back to normal.
"Guy, please tell me this isn't happening."
Guy's eyes did not leave the game screen. "What are you doing back so early--I thought you and Tom were going to the movies? Did the fact that you were about to spend two hours watching 'The Notebook' finally hit you? I mean, those are two hours of your life you're never going to get back."
Adam's voice was muffled with his face in his hands. "Tamsin took Pilar instead. About halfway to the theater she stopped the car, turned around and dropped me off back here. Tamsin said she didn't want my wallowing to ruin her Ryan Gosling experience."
Guy's face scrunched up in concentration as he reached a difficult part of his game. "It really isn't that bad. Charlie will get over it. It's not like you planned on getting captain."
Adam sighed. "I know, but I'm sure that Charlie thinks I did. You should have seen the look he gave me after practice—he had murder in his eyes."
"Well, what are you going to do?" Adam thought, and the only noise in the room was Guy's incessant button-tapping and the music blaring from the room next door.
A pent-up energy seemed to burst within Adam. "I don't know! I don't have the leadership abilities to run this team! Oh crap, I—"
"Chill, Adam! Get a hold of yourself, or else I'm going to be forced to put down my Game Boy Advance and kick your ass—and that won't be pretty."
Adam was stunned into silence. After a few moments, the two burst out laughing and Adam threw a pillow at Guy's head. "Seriously, what are you going to do?"
Adam became solemn again. "I guess I have to tell Wilson that I can't be captain." He changed the subject. "And what about you, Guy? What's going on with you and Francesca Nielson?"
Guy smiled, a locker-room grin meant to be shared between two males. "She was looking GOOD today with that skirt of hers, huh?"
"What about Connie? You dumped possibly the coolest girl we know for a girl who channels Jessica Simpson."
Guy frowned. "Don't say that—and let's not talk about Connie."
"Why not? Is that all you're going to say about someone you've dated since we can all remember? What went wrong?"
It was Guy's turn to look thoughtful. "I don't know. But I just woke up one day and things just didn't feel the same between us."
"Okay, so it's not the same. It's different because people change. The two of you aren't middle school students in puppy love anymore and you can't act that way. But can you honestly say that it's bad? Bad enough to give up something special for?"
Another silence pervaded the room and Guy gave Adam a sly smile before answering. "Did I tell you that Francesca just got a chromed-out Honda s2000 for her birthday? Six-speed manual transmission, black leather interior...Whew, it's a dandy."
Adam rolled his eyes. Guy really was something else.
"He knew all along that Wilson was going to choose him! He probably put Scooter up to giving him the recommendation!" Charlie paced back and forth in the dorm room he shared with Fulton Reed. Charlie had never been so furious in his life. Adam was so convincing that morning before homeroom. "Who else is Wilson going to choose?" Charlie knew now that it was all just an act.
"Come on, Charlie, be reasonable. You saw the look on Adam's face when Wilson made his announcement—he was just as surprised as the rest of us." Fulton thought back to freshman year, the last time Charlie thought he had been betrayed by Adam. Hell, all of the Ducks thought that Adam had been part of the Varsity prank at the Country Club. But now, Fulton knew Adam. Adam, Fulton believed, was not capable of consciously hurting any of his friends. So, as bad as it looked, Fulton had to believe that Adam truly was unaware of Coach Wilson's intention to name him captain over Charlie.
Charlie went on as if he did not hear Fulton. "And what was Wilson thinking? Adam doesn't have the skills to run this team! This is the guy who threw up during Public Speaking class sophomore year! We can't very well have him puking all over the team box whenever he has to speak before games."
Fulton frowned at Charlie's petty behavior. It surprised him because it was so unlike Charlie. "Man, that was out of line and you know it. Why do you have to be so hard on him? I thought he was your best friend. Just give him a chance. If Adam totally fucks up, the rest of us will do something about it. There's nothing to worry about."
Charlie's face was set. "There's no way we can wait for that to happen. I'm talking to Wilson tomorrow."
Fulton sighed and resigned himself. Undoubtedly this was going to get ugly, but his options right now were severely limited. All Fulton could do was sit back and prepare himself for the oncoming storm.
Charlie woke up bright and early the next morning, and repeating prepared words in his head as he headed towards Coach Wilson's office. "...In my personal opinion...lacks skills necessary...maintain health of the team..." Charlie was startled to see Adam already seated, obviously there for a purpose.
"What are you doing here?" Adam winced at the slight edge in Charlie's tone.
"I just wanted to talk to Wilson about some things." Adam kept his words deliberately vague—he did not want Charlie to know what his intentions were.
"Like going over all of your carefully-laid plans on how you want this team run?" Charlie almost felt a pang of regret as he witnessed an expression of genuine hurt on Adam's face. But Charlie quickly pushed that emotion away as he remembered his own hurt feelings. "Don't try to pretend with me, Banks—I know that you wanted it all along."
"That's not true, Charlie. I would never—"
"Are you gentlemen waiting for Coach Wilson?" A new voice interrupted their argument. Coach Wilson's assistant, George Johnson, appeared out of his own office. There was distress in his demeanor. "You didn't hear? Coach Wilson suffered a heart attack last night and is in the hospital right now."
Adam and Charlie were shocked. "Is he okay?" Neither of them was quite sure who said it—the moment felt surreal.
"Yes, yes, he'll be fine," Mr. Johnson assured the two. He lowered his voice. "But its likely Coach Wilson will not be back—he's been dealing with heart problems for years now. He'll probably take an early retirement to watch over his health."
Charlie knew that it was inappropriate, but he felt the need to ask. "What's going to happen with our Varsity team?"
Mr. Johnson ran a hand through his mussed hair. "I think Dean Buckley mentioned bringing Coach Orion up to Varsity while I would take over on the junior squad. Now, excuse me, I should probably head over to the hospital." He nodded and started walking down the gymnasium hallway, leaving Charlie and Adam alone. The two looked at each other, not quite sure how they felt about this piece of news. Charlie let Adam start walking out first, and then followed suit about fifteen seconds later.
Charlie finally realized the implications of the news and tried to suppress the ensuing jump-in-his-step. With Coach Orion taking over, Charlie would make quick work of returning his life on the ice back to normal.