Hello all! Yay – I decided to update!
This is another O.C. story, and since I enjoy writing about him, I decided to do just that. Umm, yeah, just give me some feedback if you want to – I've already read over it a couple times and realized I didn't like this as much as I thought I would. Hopefully it'll get better as the story progresses.
…And give some love to O.C. while your at it! He deserves it after all I've done to him! Grin
Enjoy!
A. Lynne
Chapter 1: Sick
"Coach," Mike Eruzione's voice loomed through the closed door of the Coach's room in the ice arena, "Coach? Can I talk to you?"
"Come in, Eruzione."
Rizzo slowly stepped in through the doorway and paused a moment to recite the best way to lay down his (and O.C.'s) problem. His glance hesitantly lifted to the man before him.
"You said you needed to speak with me?" Herb asked.
Mike nodded, "Yeah."
"Sit down." Coach gestured to the chair sitting in front of the desk, and Rizzo sat down gingerly.
"Jack's sick." Mike stated, staring into Herb's eyes for a reaction. None came.
"And?"
Rizzo didn't know how to respond. He thought for a moment in silence before responding,
"I don't think he can play tonight."
Coach twirled the pen he had been holding in his fingers, "You think a little cold is going to keep him off the ice?"
"It's not a cold, Coach. He hasn't left the bathroom since this afternoon."
"Well, tell him the game starts in an hour, so he better start hustling. We're down on defense this game, so this excuse isn't going to work."
"Coach, he can barely stand – let alone skate!"
"Eruzione, I do not tolerate faking sick to get out of a game!"
"What?" Mike's eyes lit in surprise, "Coach – he's been throwing up since noon – how the hell can you fake that?"
"It doesn't matter, Eruzione." Herb's eyes looked angry as his voice rose, "Tell Jack he better be on that damned ice in an hour," He paused, "then we'll see how he's playing after the first period."
Mike stood up, trying his best to look unfazed and spat out "Yes sir," before stalking out the door.
Jack O'Callahan could hear footsteps as they approached the bathroom stall he knelt in.
"Jack?"
"What?" O.C. didn't mean for his voice to sound so harsh, but retching in a toilet all day didn't help his mood.
"Can I come in?" Eruzione sounded hesitant, making O.C. roll his eyes,
"If you don't mind the smell."
Mike opened the stall door looking sympathetically at him, "You any better?"
"Do I look it?" He kept his face down, letting a drop of sweat roll down his cheek. O.C. hated himself for not being strong enough to brush it away, but at the moment, the only thing keeping him from falling to the tiled floor were his hands that held onto the toilet seat.
"Coach…" Mike paused, "Coach said you have to play tonight."
"I already figured that out, Mikey."
"And we've got about 45 minutes before the game starts. We should go to the locker room soon."
O.C. nodded, but he instantly regretted it as his stomach started twirling. Leaning over the toilet once more he whispered, "Go ahead, I'll meet you there."
As Mike Eruzione left the bathroom, the sounds of retching met his ears.
Hmm. Now that I've thought about it, it does kind of sound like my other story oO…Lol – if you have any other ideas for a plot to continue this with – it'll be greatly appreciated!
Feedback is always welcome!
