Disclaimer: Neither Meme nor I own the Ducks, or anything else you recognize from the movies. Oh, and the insult used inthe last chapter belongs to Chris Jericho of the WWE.

CONNIE'S POV

I can literally feel my heart tug at that comment. Of all the things I've called Dean Portman, in times of anger or adoration, pathetic was never one of them. Strong, stubborn, determined, and loyal to sometimes a fault. That's him. I just wish he could see it. I guess, as his friend and confidante, I'll be the one to help him realize it.

"You're not pathetic, Dean." I tell him sincerely, resting my palm under his chin and forcing him to turn his head to me. "And you are not just a stupid jock. If your parents don't see that, then to hell with them. They don't deserve you anyway. We know there's more to you than that. All of us Ducks do. You're great, there is no hiding that fact, whether your Mom and Dad are too busy bickering to notice or not, it's the truth."

Portman coughs slightly and casts his eyes down, not being able to move his head, as I still cupped his chin in my hand. "Cons, you don't have to say that to make me feel better. I know people see me as all brawn, no brain."

I sigh sadly and shake my head. This is going to take more convincing than I thought. I could slap his parents silly right now.

"Maybe some people do, but those people are losers and they're wrong. You're so much more special and sensitive then that. Don't think for one second you're the only one that knows about that little black notebook, filled with poems you carry around with you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He says, tapping his two pointer fingers on the sides of the now empty coffee cup. It makes a dull hollow sound that seems to ease his agitation slightly.

I shake my head. "You don't huh?" I reach under the table with my left hand, accidentally brushing his leg in my attempt to dig in the front of pocket of his jeans. Which come to think of it, probably isn't the best of ideas considering the look he's currently giving me, and the slight hitch in his breathing.

"What's this then?" I produce the book and drop it onto the table with a smirk. My smirk fades swiftly as I look at my friend. His eyes closed, chest rising and falling rapidly. Yes, that certainly was not a good idea at all.

He swallows hard, before opening his eyes slowly. It may be a trick of the dim winter light, but I swear I even see a trace of a blush in his cheeks. "Cons, uh.." He shifts uncomfortably. "you could've just nagged a bit more. I would have given it to you."

I shrug. "Oh well. At least I got it. Thus proving myself right. Which of course, I always am."

This earns a small laugh and causes a tiny smile to form on my friends lips and I feel like I've achieved something.

"You're always right, huh? I was not informed of this."

I giggle and let out a phony gasp. "You mean you didn't get the memo?"

"No, 'fraid not. But you know, I'm not one for reading, being a brain,dead jock and all. Maybe you could send me a memo on tape."

"Oh shush." I toss a paper napkin at him playfully.

"Do you have another copy? Maybe we can go back to the dorms and get it?"

"That your way of saying you're ready to head out of here?"

He nods his reply, picks up his poem book and stuffs it back into his pocket. Soon we've gone back out into the bitter Minnesota cold and again I pity Portman for not having his coat. Just looking at him is making me shiver. If he gets pneumonia Orion is going to somehow blame me for this, I just know it.

We wonder the snow-covered campus aimlessly for a while. Portman's hands shoved deep in the pockets of his pants, in a feeble attempt to keep his fingers from turning into icicles at the end of his hands. He doesn't say a word to me, as we make our way over the wet, white grounds.

His dark eyes are slits, as he scowls, lips pursed and jaw tight. I hate to see him so upset. He's normally so full of life. Being loud, flirting and otherwise being the obnoxious teenage boy we all know and love. I guess my joking at the student lounge earlier, didn't do the trick.

"Do you wanna go back to your room and get a jacket?" I inquire, as he kicks up a pile of snow.

My teammate just shakes his head with a frown. "Nah. I'm okay."

"Come on, Dean, it's freezing out here. You must be cold. I'm shivering and I've got a coat on."

"Fine, fine." He concedes throwing his hands up. "Let's just go inside."

I bite my lip, slightly shocked by the forcefulness of his retort and look at my shoes. I don't bother to say another word for the rest of our walk to his door. I don't want to make him more annoyed then I already have. Not when the entire point of the evening was to make him feel better.

And I failed at that. At the door to his dorm, we stand there silently. Portman's leaning against the frame uncomfortably and I'm chewing my lip, wracking my skull for something to say that won't upset him. Finally I settle on just good-bye. As I head back to my own room I can't help but kick myself for being an utter failure as a friend. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow. And maybe, I'll actually cheer him up.

Banksiesbabe99 - Thank you! That was kind of the point of the chapter - to show everyone he's more than a stupid jock. Glad you like it!

duckys - Thank you! Hopefully you'll see more sparks along the way.

antiIRONY - Thank you, glad you like it! Hope you like the next chapter.

hockey-girl90 - Thanks, glad you like it!

punkteacher - Thank you! Glad you like it so far!

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