A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know, finally.
When Adam joined Scooter on the bench in front of their lockers before practice, Adam could sense Scooter was in an odd mood. He treaded carefully. "What's up, Scooter?"
Scooter's voice was subdued. "Have you seen the USA Today?"
"I never read USA Today. Is there anything interesting in it?" Adam found Scooter's question odd.
"Well, you should take a look at it." Scooter leaned back into his locker, grabbed a copy of the newspaper, and handed it to Adam.
For the second time in too short of a time span, Adam was shocked by what he read.
HIGH SCHOOL HOCKEY: BREEDING FUTURE NHL STARS
1. Adam Banks, Eden Hall Academy, Minneapolis, MN.
Banks, just a sophomore, has played for Eden Hall Academy's state championship Varsity team since his freshman season. Regardless of the fact that he is the youngest member of the team, the talented center has quickly taken control of the offense and the team's destiny. Given a few years, Banks may revolutionize the way the game is played—he is potentially that good. Eden Hall coach Richard Wilson elaborated. "Adam (Banks) is our version of baseball's five-tool player—he can pass, shoot and play defense. Hell, if we really needed him in the net, I would put my total faith in him. Adam may be short on experience, but he's high on talent and moxie." Eden Hall currently sports a record of...
"Has everyone else seen this?" Adam asked as he looked up from the paper.
Scooter nodded to a corner of the room where a wooden chair lay broken and splintered on the floor. "Lunch Box did that just before you came. We had to calm him down."
"Why is everyone so upset about all this?" That was one thing Adam just could not understand.
"Adam, you have to realize that you're young. No matter how good you are, the general feeling is that the season is played for the seniors—its their chance to make all the memories they can and soak in all the attention that comes with the status. And the experience just hasn't been the same with all the media surrounding you."
Adam snapped back. "Wait, this is supposed to be my fault? I'm pissing everyone off because I'm contributing to this team? Scooter, we're undefeated—isn't winning supposed to count for something around here?"
"Of course we all like winning," Scooter answered defensively. "The guys just feel like they've become an afterthought on their own team."
Adam turned his head sideways to glance at Scooter. "And what about you, Scooter? Is that how you feel?"
Scooter stared straight ahead, as if he refused to look Adam in the eye. "I'm their captain, Adam. I have to look out for them, too."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Scooter shook his head. "I don't know."
Adam stood up angrily. "Whatever, Scooter—you know this is all bullshit. I thought we were friends. I'm out of here." Adam grabbed his duffel bag and stormed out. He'd worry about the repercussions with Coach Wilson later.
"You've really got yourself a situation, Banksie." Charlie commented as he lounged on Adam's bed, reading a copy of USA Today.
"Tell me about it," Adam replied from his computer desk. "Damnit, it seems like every newspaper in the country picked up on this story. I'm surprised that my dad hasn't called yet."
"Look on the bright side—you might be able to score us a trip to London or something this summer from your dad." Charlie gave Adam a devilish grin.
"Come on, Charlie, this is serious. I don't know what to do. Every time I step on the ice, or any time a newspaper article comes out, the guys resent me that much more. If I lower the amount of touches I get on the puck or defer to someone like Luke, we might lose. And then the guys would blame me for ruining their potential National Championship."
Charlie crumpled the newspaper and shot it, basketball-style, towards the trash can. It soared gracefully and hit the wall for a clean bank-shot. "Score! So what are you going to do?"
Adam grimaced. "As hard as it is for me to admit, maybe it is time for me to quit. I don't have to deal with all this crap. My life would be a lot easier if I played for the Ducks again."
Charlie gave Adam a knowing smile. "Come on, Adam—you know that you have too much pride for that. As much as I'd like to have you around a lot more, you can't quit."
Adam unconsciously stuck his chin out defiantly. "You know I trust your opinion more than anyone, Charlie. Give me more than one good reason to stay and I will."
Charlie sat up, with his back against the wall. "First off, I know you don't want to give Cole and Riley the satisfaction of knowing that you quit. After all the shit they put you through, you don't want them to know that they won—that they broke you."
"Yeah, you're right," Adam hesitantly conceded, chewing on a fingernail. "But that's one reason—you've still got another to go."
"Easy," Charlie said with a smile, "As much as you can't stand some of those guys, you love Varsity hockey. You love the level of play, the thrill of knowing that college scouts are taking notice, and you love winning. You'd never give it up just to prove a bunch of jerks wrong."
"Damnit, Charlie," Adam replied thoughtfully, "Why do you have to be right about this?"
"Hey, it's my job as the level-headed best friend," Charlie said ironically, as they both knew that was the role Adam usually played.
"But now I don't even have Scooter as an ally in the locker room. I don't know if I can do it without him helping me out."
Charlie was silent for a moment. "I think he needs you for support as much as you need him—you're his best friend. I don't know Scooter very well, but I know he'll come around. Don't worry about it."