"Ya'll enjoy that?" Coach asks, annoyance radiating off him in waves. We all nod and answer with "yes"s and "yeah"s as he stuffs his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, okay, well so did they. Because they're still three points up, and we're one period away from defeat." His voice was low, and he wasn't yelling. He sounded more disappointed, which is worse than angry.

We all frown, sitting down. All except one. "Well, if we can't beat them, we might as well keep our pride," Jesse announces, getting agreement from some of the team.

Coach frowns, breathing out quietly. "Jesse, that's not pride. Sure, when Dwayne roped that big oaf, part of me cheered." I smile softly at the boy next to me who returns it. "But, guys I've been there. I know how you feel. I wanted to cream that jerk that busted my leg in the minors. And I really, really wanted to go after Stansson for that cheap shot. But, you know what? My knee will heal, and if I become someone I'm not, if I sink to their level, well then, I've lost more than my knee. You understand?"

The team nods, glancing at each other, while small "yeah"s come out of our mouths. "We're not goons, we're not bullies. No matter what people say or do, we have to be ourselves. You." He continues, pointing at Dean. "Who are you?"

"Dean Portman," my brother responds, sitting up straighter.

"From where?" Coach pushes further.

"Chicago, Illinois."

"You." Coach continues, moving on to Guy.

"Guy Germain," he answers. Coach asks him where he's from too. "St. Paul, Minnesota."

Coach looks at Jesse. "You."

With arms crossed over his legs, Jesse responds. "Jesse Hall from Minneapolis, Minnesota."

"Who are you?" Coach switches to the other side of the room.

"Julie Gaffney from Bangor, Maine," she smiles, proud of her hometown.

Coach doesn't say a word, just points to someone else. "Luis Mendoza. Miami, Florida." Luis stands up from the bench, nodding when he says this.

Our goalie hops up faster than I've ever seen him move. "Greg Goldberg. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania." He smiles, his round cheeks puffing out.

"Les Averman. Brooklyn Park, Minnesota." Averman high fives Goldberg, grinning as his glasses reflect the light.

"Fulton Reed. Stillwater, Minnesota." Fulton gets off the metal bench as well, and Dean follows, hitting his shoulder with a "that's right!".

"Russ Tyler. South Central, Los Angeles," says the newest team member, who is followed by the young coach's aid. "Charlie Conway. Minneapolis, Minnesota."

The figure skater stands up next. "Ken Wu. San Francisco, California."

Connie leaps up, Guy right behind her. "Connie Moreau. Minneapolis, Minnesota."

"Adam Banks. Medina, Minnesota."

"Dwayne Robertson. Austin, Texas." Dwayne stand up and I follow after him. "Meg Portman. Chicago, Illinois." I glance at Dean, who is giving me a small smile.

Our tutor, who's been standing behind Coach the whole time, shrugs. "Michelle McKay. Duluth, Minnesota."

"And I'm Gordon Bombay. Minneapolis, Minnesota." Our coach smiles, hands on his sides, sticking out proudly. We clap and cheer, not just for him, but for all of us as well. "We're Team USA, gathered from all across America. And we're gonna stick together. You know why?"

"Because we are Ducks," says someone from the doorway. Jan smiles at us, sneaking into the locker room. "And Ducks fly together."

"That's right, Jan," Coach points at him, bringing him closer to us. "And just when you think they're about to break apart," he continues, and everyone in the room finishes with "Ducks fly together!"

Miss McKay looks at all of us in the room. "And when the wind blows hard, and the sky is black?" she asks us, to which we respond "Ducks fly together!"

"And when the roosters are crowin' and the cows are spinnin' circles in the pasture?" Dwayne adds, and we look at him funny before saying "Ducks fly together!"

"And when everyone says it can't be done, Ducks fly together," Coach smiles softly, matching his tone of voice.

Jan speaks up. "Now, new Ducks," he says, referring to the seven of us. "And old Ducks must unite under a new banner. And I thought perhaps something like this." He hands us jerseys, which are white with a duck mask and hockey sticks on it.

We slip them on, tossing aside our Hendrix USA ones, and we head out for the third period. We skate around on our half of the rink, the stands cheering and sounding pumped up.

We huddle at the bench, sticking our hands in. "Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack! GO DUCKS!"

I sit on the bench, clapping as our newly-clad players step onto the ice for the game. Dwayne sinks down next to me, cheering while secretly glancing at me once in a while. The stands start chanting, "We will, we will quack you!" and I laugh, shaking my head.

The faceoff puck is dropped, and the Icelander is shoved aside as we get the puck. Averman passes it to Connie right before he gets slammed into the wall. Connie hands it to Ken, who spins, dodging the defense of the Iceland Team. Guy gets the puck and sends it to Connie, who scores! Only two points behind now!

Iceland has the puck, and the go down the ice, shooting at Goldberg, who dives and save it. Averman retrieves the rebound, but Iceland takes it from him, and the opponents score a fifth goal.

We huddle at the bench, Charlie showing us a white board with arrows drawn all over it. "Okay, Ducks, take a look here," Coach says, grabbing everyone's attention.

"Charlie, what are we trying to do here? This isn't the NBA," Averman asks, shaking his head.

"But it's the perfect teamwork play," Charlie defends. Coach tells us to do the play, and I'm sent onto the ice.

Adam gets the puck, looking like he's going to fly down the ice with it, but he passes it backwards as he continues skating. I snatch the puck, quickly sending it to Dwayne, who flings it into the air. I slide for it, but I'm tripped from behind, yet I manage to hit the puck into the goal.

"Yeah!" I cheer as the team hugs me before getting into position. I smile at Dwayne, who has a wide grin spread across his face, and he winks at me.

We throw our weight around as the game goes on, knocking Icelanders down. Guy gets the puck, but he's tossed over a back of one of the players. Luis grabs the puck and speeds down the ice, going faster than I thought was possible. He looks like he's going to crash again, but he miraculously stops in front of the goal. "I stopped!" he cries.

"Put it in, Luis!" Coach calls, and Luis hits it into the goal, sending it between the goalie's legs. We cheer for him as we wrap him in a big group hug.

Coach pulls me out, and I sit on the bench as he sends Russ in. By the look on Coach's face, he was desperate to get the score to a tie.

Russ gets the puck, and he's instantly crushed into the wall. I cringe, knowing that had to hurt really bad. Coach calls for a timeout, and the players slide in. "Goldberg," Coach motions for him, "Listen up, listen up. This is what I want you to do."

When Coach send the players back onto the ice, I can't help but smile at his plan, it has to work. It's got to work. We have the puck, and we keep it in our zone, passing it back and forth. "Now!" Coach yells, and Guy starts the plan.

Guy passes it to Luis, who goes behind the goal. It seems like he's going to fly up the ice, but he passes it back to Goldberg who's come out of the goal. Goldberg throws off his helmet to reveal that it's not our goalie, but Russ. Averman hands him his stick, and he flips the puck onto its side, Icelanders coming for him. He hits it before the opposing team can stop him, and it flies into the goal.

I jump up, hugging Dwayne, who's next to me on the bench. We tied Iceland! We could win! We have a chance to win! The buzzer sounds, signaling that it's going to go into one-on-one with the goalie for points out of five. We hop on the ice, making one giant group hug with Russ squished between us.

The shootout starts with Jesse against the goalie. Jesse brings it closer to the goal, and he scores! Iceland gets their turn next, and they score as well. I skate out next, scoring the second goal, and Iceland's goal is saved by Goldberg. Dwayne handles the puck, bouncing it on his stick before tossing it back onto the ice, but the goalie stops his goal. The next Icelander shoots from far away, and it somehow goes in, tying the two teams once again. Fulton hits his signature shot, scoring, but Iceland makes the goal too. Adam goes onto the ice, moving his wrist around first. He handles it down the ice, then shoots, and it bounces off the leg of the goalie, scoring our final point.

Coach steps over to Julie, whispering to her. Once he's done, Coach does something surprising to everyone in the arena. He takes out Goldberg and replaces him with Julie. She's getting her chance to shine. I nod as she steps into the goal, preparing herself for the Icelander. The player starts moving down the ice, hitting the puck. One, two, three dekes, and he shoots. The whole rink is silent as the puck soars through the air. Julie tosses the puck from her glove, and the stands erupt in cheering.

We won! We won! We won! We jump onto the ice, almost knocking Julie over with our hugs, while cheering for ourselves. We line up, shaking the hands of the Icelanders, who don't seem so fierce and scary anymore. They congratulate us, showing real sportsmanship which I approve of.

We head back to the bench, but someone pulls me backwards by the arm. I turn around to see Dwayne, rubbing his neck nervously. "Meg, remember last night when ya asked what I was gonna ask ya before?" His words sort of make no sense, but I know what he's talking about, so I nod. "Well, I'm just gonna ask ya now. Meg, do ya wanna, maybe, be my, uh, girlfriend?"

My eyes go wide at his words. Me? Girlfriend? I stare at him for a few moments, lost for words. He looks down at the ice, seeming to think I've rejected him. "Yes," I whisper, making his head lift up. "Yes! Yes!" I throw my arms around him, and he wraps his own around me.

I glance up, and he's smiling down at me. He leans down, placing his lips on mine. Several "Awwww!"s ring out, and we pull apart blushing. Dean skates over, eyes narrowed. I see Dwayne visibly gulp at my brother, who places his hand on his shoulder.

"You hurt my sister," Dean starts, "I will end you." Dwayne nods frantically, eyes huge and body shaking slightly. My brother turns to me, and I smile. He pulls me into a hug, and I close my eyes. "I'm sorry, Meg. You were right, I can't control your life. You can take care of yourself." He lowers his voice so only I can hear him. "And besides, you haven't looked so happy since before Mom left."

"I love you, Dean," I say, blinking away any tears. I will not cry anymore on this trip. He mumbles an "I love you too, Nutmeg" into my hair before pulling away from me.

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

Despite the few of us who lived in different places, we all flew back to Minnesota. When we got there, don't ask me why, we decided to have a campout with marshmallows and a fire since it was getting dark. Let's just say Goldberg almost set us all on fire.

That's where we are now. Singing "We are the Champions" (badly I must say) while Dwayne plays the guitar, which is highly attractive, if I do say so. It's a nice time, considering that it's the last time we'll be together. I'm sad since I won't see Dwayne very often, but we promised we'd make it work.

We're sitting on the ground, my head-on Dwayne's shoulder with his arm over mine, when Coach stands up. "Now, guys, I know that our newest players are leaving to go home tomorrow," He starts. Don't remind me. "And I know you're all gonna be sad to see them go." I swear, I see Dean and Fulton look at each other with pain in their eyes. "But, I have some good news..."

And so, it ends. Or does it?