Arguing, arguing, arguing, that's all I hear. Coach hasn't shown up for our game, and it's about to start. So, everyone on the team is fighting over who should play what position.

"I can handle center," Dwayne says from the outer ring of the group, not that anyone heard him over their own fighting.

I place my hand on his arm. "Everyone, shut up!" I shout, getting all eyes on me. "Fighting isn't going to any good. We need to come to an agreement and compromise."

They blink at me for a few seconds, before returning to their squabbling. I roll my eyes, and Dwayne offers me a small smile. I shrug at him, mouthing "I tried".

"Hey team! Hey team!" Mr. Tibbles claps from the stands, grabbing our attention. "We're gonna be great today, right?" He obviously doesn't know our current situation. "Where's Gordon?"

Luis, sitting on the wall, throws his hand up. "You tell us."

Mr. Tibbles shakes his head, his whole body drooping. "I don't believe this."

We finally stop arguing, but a referee with a stern expression skates over to us. "Team USA, I'm sorry but without a coach behind the bench, you forfeit the game."

"You can't do that," Adam's face scrunches up as he responds to the referee. His blue eyes are narrowed, and eyebrows are raised.

Charlie flicks his eyes back and forth, before lunging forward. "We have one," he tells the ref. "Miss McKay!" he calls to our tutor who's walking behind the glass. Charlie pulls me by the arm, skating the both of us over to her.

"Hey Charlie, hey Meg. What's up?" she asks coolly.

"You have to pretend you're our Coach," Charlie explains. "Or we forfeit the game." He gives her a pleading look as she glances between the two of us.

"Where's Coach Bombay?" she asks, shaking her head slightly, making her hair bounce around her face.

I step closer to the glass. "Pretend or we're out of the tournament," I beg, looking up at her with desperate eyes.

"But, I don't know anything about coaching," she stammers, trying to find a way out of this debacle. The referee skates over, glancing at Charlie.

"Here she is," he points towards our tutor. "Our coach. Coach McKay." The ref looks at her suspiciously, as the rest of Team USA catches on, adding some "yeah, Coach McKay"s into the mix to make it more believable.

Miss McKay steps on the wall, standing up higher. "What are you waiting for? The ice to freeze? Let's play!" she shouts at us, surprising us all. While we cheer, the ref tells us to go, ready to start the game.

"Yes," Charlie high fives me as we skate back over to the bench, getting pats and gratitude from everyone. Dean ruffles my hair, and I glare at him while I smooth it back down.

The game starts, and Germany, the team we're playing, gets the first faceoff. They come closer to the goal, shooting the puck, but it's saved by Goldberg expertly. We handle the puck, but it's difficult since Germany is shoving us down and beating the crap out of us physically.

One of the German players crushes Guy right in front of the bench, where I'm sitting next to Luis and Charlie. "Ugh, we look tired," Miss McKay says, probably because we're still exhausted from last night's practice and then from our school puck game earlier. "We need to trade places."

Charlie scrunches his eyebrows, confusion written all over his face. I don't blame him, I'm in the same position. "What?"

"Uh," Miss McKay stumbles, looking for the right words to say. "New players."

"Oh, say 'change it up'," Charlie explains, finally understanding what she was getting at. Averman nods next to him, agreeing with his statement.

"Change it up," Miss McKay repeats, looking out onto the ice. They're never going to hear her if she says it like that.

I lean forward, looking right at her. "Scream it." I tell her, the whole bench staring at our tutor.

"Change it up!" she shouts, louder than I was expecting. Everyone on the bench jumps onto the ice, while the current players, except Charlie, Julie, and Averman, leap over the wall to the bench.

The game continues, the second period almost to an end, when a shrill noise comes from the stands. We all turn to see Coach blowing into a wooden whistle, in his usual attire, not in a suit and no grease slicking back his hair.

"Look who finally shows up," Fulton says to our huddle, which consisted of me, Jesse, Charlie, Averman, and Guy.

I shrug my shoulders. "Maybe we should give him another chance?" I suggest, earning glares from Jesse and Fulton.

"No way, guys, just ignore him," Jesse tells us. "C'mon, Averman, take the faceoff." We break away from the group, skating into our positions.

Charlie stares sadly at Coach, who blows the whistle again. Everyone on the bench stands up, staring at our coach. He runs down the steps, entering the bench area through the glass door.

"C'mon, what have we got to lose?" Guy asks, siding with myself and Charlie.

"Respect," Fulton counters. "He'll dump us the minute it's all over."

I roll my eyes. "If anyone should be saying that, it's me. And Julie, and Luis, and Dwayne, and Ken, and Dean," I argue. "We don't know him like you do, yet I'm defending him, while you're ditching him, Fulton." Fulton opens his mouth to reply, but no words come out.

"C'mon in! Let's go!" Coach calls, and I immediately skate over, followed by Charlie and Guy. Coach leans in and kisses Miss McKay on the cheek, and the three girls all look at each other and smile. We had been saying that they were going to get together since the first day they met. "Thanks," he tells her, making her blush and nod.

Coach turns to us now, an apologetic look on his face. "Team, guys, I was wrong. And I'm sorry. I forgot about the team, and the team is all I have. And all I want is another chance. Just one more shot. I'm back, okay? Believe me." We all look at each other, nodding, making Coach smile gratefully.

Coach sends the players onto the ice, switching me out for Connie instead. Jesse takes the faceoff, winning the puck when the ref drops it. Luis passes the puck to Jesse, who sticks his arms up, yelling, "Flying V!"

All the Team USA players on the ice skate over to him, and they make a V-shaped formation. They pass it amongst themselves, staying in this position as they skate forward. Jesse, in the front of the V, gets the puck, and snaps it back to Averman, who shoots it, scoring the first point of the game.

We jump up, cheering for the whole team as Coach and Miss McKay hug each other. The crowds go crazy, and the game goes on, until it ends with a 1 to 0 score.

*******************************************************************

I braid my dark hair into two pigtails, something I don't normally do, but my hair is still damp from my shower, and I don't have time to dry it. I quickly change into my clothes, which I let Connie and Julie pick out: black skinny jeans, a cream top with lace on the front, a jean jacket, and my white converse.

I step outside of the bathroom, and Connie and Julie instantly look up at me. "You look amazing!" Connie squeals.

Julie crosses her arms and smirks happily. "See, I told you the jacket was a nice touch, Connie." The brown-haired girl rolls her eyes at the other, shoving her playfully.

"Is it too much?" I ask, because I don't want to seem like I'm trying too hard. To say I'm nervous is an understatement. I don't have butterflies in my stomach, I have elephants stomping around.

"No, it's perfect," Connie assures me. "Let's do your makeup." I raise my eyebrow, considering no one mentioned makeup. "Oh, come on! Just a little bit."

The two girls set me into a chair and begin poking and prodding me with various products. I don't wear makeup, mostly because I don't know how to use it, but also because Dean would flip shit if I did.

They hand me a mirror, and my mouth falls open at what I see in it. There's light pink eyeshadow shading my eyelids, but it's not very noticeable. Eyeliner and mascara are scarce, but are present, and my lips are a nice neutral pink color.

"See, very natural," Connie motions towards my face. "Dwayne is going to love it!" She claps her hands excitedly, jumping up and down.

My nerves come back in tsunami waves when she mentions his name. "I'm not so sure about this, maybe I shouldn't-," I don't get to finish my sentence, when a knock sounds on the wooden door.

Julie shoves me forward, and I turn the handle, opening the door wide. Dwayne's standing there, hands in his jean pockets, wearing a light blue button-up shirt that's untucked from his pants. His boots are hiding under the fabric, but his cowboy hat is placed perfectly atop his head.

He looks at me, mouth open slightly. "Uh," he stutters, which is kind of adorable. "Um, you look nice, Meg," he finally says.

"Thanks, so do you," I smile, closing the door behind me, leaving Julie and Connie inside so they can't embarrass me.

"Ready?" he asks, and I nod. We walk down the hallway and down the stairs before exiting the dorm-house completely. The sun is setting, casting a red-orange glow to the sky.

We continue the walk into town, going a familiar way. We had gone on this street the day I went to town with the boys, but we don't seem to be headed towards Rodeo Drive, luckily.

We stroll down the sidewalk, stopping outside of a shop. Dwayne enters inside, and I follow, a sweet, sugary scent hitting my nose. Looking around, it's an ice cream shop, with checkered floors and old-fashioned pictures on the walls.

I grin at the place, stepping in line with Dwayne. "I hope this is okay. I didn't know what ya liked, so I guessed," he says nervously.

"No, this is perfect," I answer, turning my head to look at him. A wide smile spreads across his lips as we go forward to order.

"What would you like?" the cashier asks, looking bored and unhappy to be here working. I don't blame her. As much as I like ice cream, I wouldn't want to work with it all day.

Dwayne turns to me, a silent way of telling me to order first. "I'll have chocolate please," I tell the lady, who types something into the register. I start to pull out the five dollars I brought along, but I'm interrupted by Dwayne ordering.

"I'll take the rocky road, thank ya," he says, rocking back and forth on his heels. The woman nods, totaling up the amount, which Dwayne pays for.

We're handing our cones, and I grab a napkin, just in case it drips on me. As we exit the shop, I look up at Dwayne. "You didn't have to pay for me, you know?"

He glances at me, chocolate chip eyes shining. "I know, but I wanted to," he responds, taking another bite of his ice cream.

I smile, hoping he doesn't see it, and we continue to walk in a comfortable and peaceful silence. I finish the cone, tossing the napkin into a nearby trash bin. Just as I think we're heading back to the dorms and the date is over, Dwayne stops. "I wanna show ya somethin'," he tells me.

I nod and we begin to walk in a different direction. We start an upward climb, but we continue to trek until we reach the top of a hill. It took a while, but we made it up there. Suddenly, Dwayne steps behind me, placing his hands over my eyes. "What are you doing?"

"It's a surprise," he responds, nudging me forward.

"You're not going to, like, push me off the top of this hill, are you?" I ask. "I wouldn't appreciate being murdered very much, you know?"

Dwayne laughs, and even without seeing him, I know he's shaking his head. "No, Meg, I'm not gonna push ya down the hill. Do ya trust me?"

That's a good question. Do I trust him? Have I known him long enough to trust him? "Yes," I start, "I trust you."

He stops moving and slides his hands from my eyes to my shoulders, and I gaze at the sight before me. The sky is almost completely blue, but a small pale yellow glow is visible. Stars speckle the night like freckles on a face, and the half-moon shines brightly.

The most amazing sight from the hill, however, is the city lights. Small yellow lights dot the scene, some in large clusters, and others in groups of two or three. It's as if I can see the whole world from up here.

I turn to face Dwayne, who is smiling at me now from my side. "How did you find this?" I question, sighing happily in the cool air.

"The day we came to town with the boys," he answers sheepishly. "After ya left, the guys went home, but I stayed longer and stumbled upon this here." His eyes glow as he remembers the memory. "I wanted to bring ya here as soon as I found it."

I feel my face blush lightly, so I turn to the city again. "It's beautiful," I breathe, closing my eyes.

"Not as beautiful as you," Dwayne whispers. My cheeks burn up as I snap my head to look at him. His face has gone bright red, obviously not meaning for me to hear that.

"Thank you," I say, looking up at him. "For everything tonight."

I see a faint smile appear on his face. "You're welcome, Meg," he responds. We both look out in front of us, listening to the quiet buzz of the city and the light sound of cars driving. Dwayne reaches down and slips his hand into mine, surrounding it with warmth.

I smile as we stand there, hand-in-hand. The only thought running through my head at the moment is: This is perfect.