Disclaimer: I do not own L.A. or anything else mentioned in this chapter besides the characters and plot I have set up.

Chapter 2

Sara

The entire morning I had been forced to endure a highly stressful amount of whining from Josh. At the very last second, he grabbed me by the arm and pleaded that Jack's son could hold no part in this. I only smiled weakly and pried his fingers from my arm. Before I could get to the door, he called out to me again, and I probably would have kept going if he hadn't said the next thing.

"Sara, I'm scared and embarrassed."

Anyone could have said that I was falling into a trap, but Josh was pretty much the typical guy. He was fascinated with sports, he liked to drink beer, and he wasn't particularly fond with getting in touch with his emotions or sharing them with others. For those main reasons, I chose to stop and humor him.

"That's normal, J. It happens to everyone."

My response didn't seem to satisfy him enough because he was still standing there with hopeful eyes. It was sad that there was so much I had to say, but I knew that it would never mean much for my brother. He was always on the go, and patience was definitely not one of his virtues.

"You're human, Josh. It's only natural that we feel."

"You're missing the point."

It was always the part of the conversation where Josh and I butted heads. Our views on mostly everything clashed so badly that I was positive we'd never share anything in common.

"I think you have it backwards," I huffed. "Go back to bed and don't wake up until you start thinking with that head of yours. That's why you were given it, J. So please use it." I figured that he didn't catch my sarcasm or the joking nature in my voice. Honestly. I had only been trying to lighten the mood, to prevent yet another fight. Unfortunately, it seemed like a fight was the only real option.

"You're such a bitch. I wish that dad heard you talking like this. He'd say that you weren't fit to be…"

"Fit to be what?"

I nearly jumped at the addition of another voice.

"Hi dad," I added quietly. If only I could distract him for long enough. "I was just working out a few things with Josh before I pick up Jack's son," I told him calmly.

"It's Mr. O'Callahan to you," he told me bitterly.

"And yes, Sara. I did overhear the entire conversation."

My eyes fell and I could only feel like an embarrassment.

"It leaves me no choice but to change rolls a bit."

"What?" I cried out. I didn't want my brother to teach me. He was inexperienced, and he treated hockey like he treated his girlfriends, and that was definitely not meant to be good.

"Sara, shut up."

We could only wait as he stood there quietly. He ran a hand through his chair, and then looked over at my brother who was finding the ceiling rather entertaining. "Josh, I think it's best that you let your sister and me discuss this in private."

"Sure."

I could sense nothing but relief in my brother's voice. If only I could have felt the same way.

The entire walk to my father's office, I had this feeling in my stomach that wouldn't go away. It was as if I needed to throw up but I couldn't. The feeling only intensified the moment that he shut his office's door rather hard. He marched towards his desk, never bothering to turn around. I couldn't help but feel nauseous at how easily my father ignored me. For him, this sort of thing was out of character. He was the wonderful nice father who never pushed his children into things that they didn't want to be pushed into. So, I couldn't understand why he was acting so distant and cruel.

I could only hope that he wasn't going through a mid-life crisis.

"Sara."

His voice had been so soft that I barely heard him.

"Huh?" I tried to stay calm to show him that I wasn't worried about how strange he was acting.

"I sort of lied to you earlier."

I blinked, not quite digesting what he had to say.

"What are you saying?"

My bottom lip quivered, and I couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable as he started to explain the truth.

"I mean, I was telling the truth about Jack's son joining us. He's going to help Josh, to start hockey fresh." He suddenly broke off as he turned around to stare at his wall of awards and trophy's. It was actually a small collection, but I knew damn well that he held so much pride for accomplishing his goals and getting a reward in return. "It's…just…that I left out a few things." I wasn't sure if I wanted the awkward moment to continue… "Sara, you need to understand that I love you with all of my heart. I would never do something or make a rash decision unless it was in your benefit."

I could only blink as I stared at my father's back. I really had no clue what he was getting at, and a part of me didn't want to know.

"And I decided that you are to start hockey fresh along with your brother. Maybe you can start to feel love for hockey again. Maybe you'll just hate it worse. Either way, I want for you and your brother to have something in common. I hate when the two of you fight. You're blood! It should mean so much more."

I started to tune all of it out as I realized how much it was starting to resemble speeches my father would give to the hockey team he used to teach before we moved out to L.A. three years ago.

"I don't understand, dad," I croaked. "We're family. We're blood," I mocked, "so I can't seem to understand why you would misrepresent to me about something of this magnitude." I carefully licked my licks as I peered up at the clock. I had to leave in five minutes to pick up Jack's son, and I wasn't in the least bit motivated to go.

"It's not the time to flash your huge vocabulary at me, young lady. In fact, I really see no reasons why you would be this upset. So, here is my peace offering. If you give this boy and me one chance—then I will send him back home if things don't work out. I'll let you go find your own calling. But if things do work out, you have to promise to apologize to me for ever doubting my motives, Sara."

For the next two minutes, his words hung heavily in my mind, but I couldn't seem to shake the fact that he was right in his own way. My father hardly asked anything from me, and I knew it was the opportune moment to take this risk for him. Besides, if things wouldn't work out, I could always rub it in his face that he was wrong…

"Okay," I finally agreed. "Truce."

We eventually shook on it, but by the time that things were temporarily patched up—it had been time to pick up Jack's son. I wasn't particularly worried about his experience or his teaching skills. I was mostly worried that he was just as upset at the arrangement as my brother and I were. Instead of wondering about it the entire ride to the airport, I turned on the radio and fiddled with the dial until I came to a broadcast of a local high school hockey team.

-x-x-x-x-

Waiting in the airport for someone I didn't know was more than uncomfortable. I was waiting in the seating area, staring up at the wall. The jittery feeling in my stomach intensified the moment that the flight from Dallas, Texas was on schedule. That meant that Jack's son would be getting off of the plane in less than five minutes, so I tried to look presentable, but it didn't do much justice. My hair was frizzy, and there were bags under my eyes from lack of sleep. My body was slumped and drained of any energy for skipping breakfast. I hadn't had an appetite all morning, which was slightly abnormal for me.

Somehow, knowing me, I had managed to fall into a light slumber. The next thing I remembered was someone tapping my shoulder, softly. I stirred and started to mutter a bunch of unnecessary curse words as my eyes fluttered open and I jumped from my seat.

"Who are you?" I tested.

I looked him up and down. He was young enough to be Jack's son, but he seemed older than I had imagined.

"Hunter O'Callahan," he whispered.

I could hardly breathe. I didn't want to be there, and I didn't want him to teach me.

"And would you be the young lady I'm supposed to meet here?"

He seemed really hesitant, as if he wasn't sure if he was saying the right things to a complete stranger.

"How did you know who to look for?" I asked, completely ignoring his previous statement.

Before he answered, I noticed that he was carrying a huge Adidas gym bag that was filled to the point where it was bulging more than it was naturally supposed to. In his other hand, he was holding a cup of coffee that I had imagined he had picked up before he went on his long trek to hunt me down. At his feet, there was one suitcase and then a small duffle bag beside it. I looked at it apprehensively. After all, I had never asked my father how long Jack's son—well, how long Hunter was staying.

"Mr. Eruzione told me what you looked like. He told me where I'd most likely find you, and he called this morning to make sure that I wouldn't have any difficulties…so he explained what you were wearing, and it was almost impossible to miss you." He laughed. "You stick out like a sore thumb here. I mean, the black, white, and silver combination isn't exactly that common these days, but what is, ya know?"

I smiled inwardly. His way of making small talk was by babbling, but it was slightly refreshing to hear bits and pieces of his accent; it was so southern.

"Lets go, then." I reached down and grabbed his suitcase, which was much to his dismay and protest. Unfortunately, I happened to be very stubborn, and I was about twenty steps in front of him when he had stopped his annoying game. The only bad thing about Hunter was that he always wanted to talk. He was an open-book, and he always had something to say or something to ask. He was the equivalent of someone who ate, breathed, and slept shopping. He was obsessed with talking, which was more than weird.

"So, what's yer name?"

"Sara."

I made sure that my answers were short. I didn't need to tell him anymore than he needed to know. It didn't matter how god looking he was.

"How old are ya?"

"Seventeen," I answered tiredly.

"Wow. Still in high school I see." He paused thoughtfully. "I guess your brother is younger than you?"

I nodded.

"How old are you?" I asked curiously. Honestly, I wasn't really worried about his age. I felt that the less I knew about him that the less I'd have to remember. His answer actually seemed delayed, which annoyed me at first. I had figured that he was ignoring me or that he hadn't heard me at all. I was in the midst of repeating my question when he spoke.

"Twenty. Almost twenty one."

"You're old," I commented as I pulled into the driveway of my house.

He laughed genuinely.

"That's the first time I've ever heard that one."

"Well, there's a first for all things Mr. O'Callahan."

I smiled as I started to grab his suitcase. Once again, he had held up a fight, but once I pointed out that it was a good way to help train…well, he didn't have many objections. For that, I was relieved. Growing up in an all boys household has always been tough, but what I've learned about hockey had been from my brother and father. The weird thing was that I wasn't bad at hockey. I hadn't lost the meaning of the sport. I wasn't making fatal error after fatal error. Yet, my father insisted that I needed the training as well, and if there would have been any way out of it—I would have been the first one jumping on the bandwagon. But dad always had a plan. As unwilling as I was to accept everything, I knew that he had a purpose for this whole training thing, and I could only hope that it was a good one.

"I'll give you a tour later. Actually, I'll let my father do that." I dropped Hunter's suitcases. "Jeez, that weighs a ton," I complained. "Josh!" I shouted. "Dad."

Moments later, both of them were standing in the foyer. Dad was smiling, always welcoming, and Josh was staring at the ground. I noticed the frown in disappointment in his eyes as he saw how pleased I was. I think that he got the impression that I was bailing on him, but the reality was that Hunter was actually a decent guy who was relatively easy to get along with. The only downfall was that he talked more than I cared to listen to.

"This is Hunter. Hunter this is my dad, Eric and my brother Josh Eruzione."

Everyone exchanged hellos and handshakes. I was surprised to see that Josh and Hunter got along so well, but my happiness soon faded away as I truly realized how unhappy Josh was. He was engaged in a conversation about hockey, but it seemed as if Hunter always had the more interesting stories or experiences to recollect on. I shot my brother a sympathetic look, truly feeling his pain. Hunter was the type of guy whose talking was bound to lead him into trouble someday. He was very opinionated, and somehow I felt this need to stick up for my brother, which was a rarity in its own.

"You know," I interrupted, "having such a strong opinion will end you up in nothing but trouble."

"What do you suppose I do?" Hunter asked smoothly. "If I didn't have an opinion, I'd just fade in with everyone else. I take great pride in being who I am."

Josh smiled wryly. "Is that living vicariously through your father's fame?"

I was sure that Hunter would have muttered some sort of cunning response, but he did nothing of the sort.

"Not really. Besides, I hardly see my father. Almost no one knows that I'm his son, after all."

I had to admit, I was completely interested with what he had to say. Josh and I had assumed that he was on good terms with his father, and that they had planned out the whole thing… perhaps we had been wrong. Instead of pushing into his personal affairs, I decided to ease the conversation back towards something less risky.

"How long have you played hockey, Hunter?"

"Ever since I was old enough to hold a hockey stick."

"How long is that?" I prodded.

He raised his eyebrow.

"Maybe I should just show you," he uttered cockily. "Suit up. This is going to be your first lesson."

"Umm…our dad says we're not allowed to actually play hockey yet."

"I already knew that," he explained, slightly annoyed. "But get into your uniforms. You have to feel like a hockey player and you need to be dressed the part if you expect to make any progress."

To be quite frank, Hunter's reasoning only confused us, but he was our coach. Instead of being annoying idiots, we did as we were told and met him out on the back porch. It was so cold, and I had almost wished that I was wearing gloves or that my face had more coverage. I groaned as I took a seat on the steps next to my brother.

"J, if he turns out to be the most vindictive asshole of a coach, I am going to kill you once this is all over."

"It isn't my fault," he whispered in his annoying, cheerful voice.

x-x-x-x-x

Practice was something I knew I'd dread, and I had been absolutely right. When it came town to it, Hunter was an ice hockey Nazi. He ordered us to sit on the steps to the porch as he explained a few things. For the most part, Josh and I had managed to zone out on most of it. Unfortunately Hunter was more than displeased with our lack of concern.

"You have no drive, no ambition. No wonder hockey is so difficult."

'No, you're difficult,' I thought to myself. He was only three years older than me—four at most. It was hard to accept orders or listen to someone who lacked so much experience. I would have preferred for my father to do the job, and as I was stuck listening to Hunter, I could only wonder why he stuck us with someone so young.

"All right. Maybe we all started off on the wrong foot. I'm here to help you guys find what you've lost. I'm not trying to ruin your lives. Plus, I only do what I'm paid to do."

The next time that I saw my father, I couldn't wait to confront him. He had more than lied. He never mentioned paying Hunter or even letting him live in our house for so long. In fact, no one even spoke of how long Hunter was staying. I guess dad figured that it'd be a while considering all things.

"Well, I have homework to do," I piped up, getting to my feet shakily. "I didn't mean to intrude on this lesson or whatever, but I need to get to work. You know what high school is like, right?" Josh got to his feet after me and said almost the same thing except his version was a lot crueler.

"Wait. You don't even know what public high school is like. You were a private school loser," Josh added angrily. "I don't take orders from people like you."

I felt a queasy feeling settle in the bottom of my stomach as my eyes met Hunter's. He looked sad. This was an emotion coming from the boy who was so happy and always with a smile on his face. I frowned and started to walk away. The damage had been done, and I could only hope that Josh's asshole tendencies were enough to make Hunter up and leave. After all, he was just too damn young to be any good."

I reached the screen door, but something told me to turn around. When I did, Hunter was sitting in the middle of the snow looking very dejected. Josh had crossed the line, and there was nothing I could do about it. He had his own opinions and so did I. Feeling very self-pitying, I started to walk towards him. I was positive that he didn't even hear me coming. He was playing with some sort of medal. It looked like bronze. Third place.

Things did not make sense.

Our father wouldn't have hired Hunter O'Callahan unless he was the best of the best. It had to be after careful consideration. My father didn't make rash decisions, but I wasn't so sure about this one.

"Nice medal," I commented. "I have a few bronze. That's about it. Maybe some paper medals from when I was under ten and I was the most promising female athlete in our high school at the time." I took a deep breath. "After we moved here, I was nothing special. You would never imagine how much L.A.'s hockey scene has blown up. Girls get a lot of credit, but if you're not well known—you easily become just another wannabe. So, before you start to turn into a whole asshole and get angry with my brother, remember that moving to this place wasn't easy for us. We had to start over, Coach. Josh is just bitter because our dad feels that he needs outsider interventions."

I didn't know why I was trying to convince him about our past, but I felt obligated to. Hunter was, over all, a nice guy. He needed to put down his barriers. He needed to have something in common with my brother and myself before he got anywhere. We needed to share some type of bond before it would work.

"You'd be surprised by how much we do have in common," he muttered icily. "And I'm your coach. Excuses for foolish behavior does not fly with me. So next time that you are defending your brother, make sure you have something better than a sob story."

His lashing out was so unexpected. Maybe he had taken the comments to heart, which made me feel slightly guilty. I was trying to make this easy for all of us, but Hunter didn't like when I intervened with affairs that had nothing to do with me.

"And," I started cockily, "next time that you feel like being an insensitive cretin, please give me an advanced warning. I'll make sure to avoid you at all costs." The anger resonated in my voice, and much to my dismay Hunter was amused.

"Your bite is a lot worse than your bark."

He stuffed his medal into his pocket and finally stood off the mound of snow.

As we started to walk away, I couldn't help but apologize. He wouldn't accept.

"Please, Coach. Let's just get to know one another before we start training. It'd be nice if we were all on the same page."

He simply nodded.

"If Josh is willing, then so am I."

He smiled and took a seat at the kitchen counter.

"Now, I'm starving. What do you have to eat, Eruzione?"

My smile fell. For a moment, I had almost thought that we had breeched past the formalities. Sure, I called him Coach out of respect, but why did he call me Eruzione? I was Sara.

"Call me Sara."

"I'm your coach. That wouldn't be too professional."

x-x-x-x-x

Needless to say, Josh had refused to join us for lunch. Dad had tried everything to convince him, but that was Josh. When he had something in his mind, he was deadest. He wouldn't change his mind unless there was a good enough reason to do so. And because of my brother's absence, it made lunch awkward.

"I'm so sorry about this Hunter. I didn't know that Josh would be this stubborn."

"It's not your fault Mr. Eruzione. I can understand where he's coming from."

"You do?" I just couldn't help but add myself into the conversation.

"Yeah. I was once in the same boat as Josh. I know what it's like to hit rock bottom, and I know what it's like to have to fight to make a difference. When I started heading down the wrong path—"

I glanced up, surprised to see my brother sitting in the chair beside me.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Having a bad day."

I looked over at dad, who wasn't the least bit pleased. I had expected him to scream and shout at Josh like he usually did, but that didn't happen. He played with his soup and made small talk with Hunter. I couldn't help but feel that Hunter was going to be the favorite around here, and as my eyes locked with Josh—I knew that he was thinking the same exact thing.

Note from the author:

As this story progresses, the chapters will eventually get longer. I update this as often as I can. Oh yes. Next chapter we'll get into a bit of hockey, and we'll start to learn Hunter's past. So, stick around if that sounds interesting to you. And not to mention that the kids are going back to school—seeing as it's going to be Monday when I start next chapter. So, please review and let me know how I'm doing.

MMHMM