Status: I'm not sure when the next chapter'll be out - but it'll be soon. (I hope)
Breaking the Mold
The Draft
I nervously patted down my shirt, which hung loosely over my black dress pants. My feet hurt from walking in a pair of heels, almost killing myself climbing up the stairs. Marc and Jordan placed their hands on top of mine to calm me down.
“Shh,” Jordan whispered.
“But I’m so nervous,” I whispered back.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.” Eric’s voice, as always, helped my nerves settle.
The first round slowly passed, Steven Stamkos getting that coveted first overall pick. My brothers told me I was first round material. But now the good slots were disappearing.
Peter Chiarelli took the stage. “With it’s first round pick, the Boston Bruins select…”
Marc and Jordan’s grips tightened on my hands. I squeezed back.
“…Acelynn Wells of the BC Eagles.”
I smiled as my brothers clapped and cheered loudly around me. I walked up to the stage, donning the hat I was handed and the jersey, number 13. The name “Wells” was already sewn onto the back above it. They had planned on selecting me for a while, then. I smiled and held it up before slipping it on. The smile stayed on my face as I posed for a quick picture before getting down and going back to my seat.
“Another Eastern Conference Staal,” Sidney said, ruffling my hair. “Welcome to the club.”
“Original Six, baby!” Marc high-fived me.
I just laughed.
“Shh,” Jordan whispered.
“But I’m so nervous,” I whispered back.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.” Eric’s voice, as always, helped my nerves settle.
The first round slowly passed, Steven Stamkos getting that coveted first overall pick. My brothers told me I was first round material. But now the good slots were disappearing.
Peter Chiarelli took the stage. “With it’s first round pick, the Boston Bruins select…”
Marc and Jordan’s grips tightened on my hands. I squeezed back.
“…Acelynn Wells of the BC Eagles.”
I smiled as my brothers clapped and cheered loudly around me. I walked up to the stage, donning the hat I was handed and the jersey, number 13. The name “Wells” was already sewn onto the back above it. They had planned on selecting me for a while, then. I smiled and held it up before slipping it on. The smile stayed on my face as I posed for a quick picture before getting down and going back to my seat.
“Another Eastern Conference Staal,” Sidney said, ruffling my hair. “Welcome to the club.”
“Original Six, baby!” Marc high-fived me.
I just laughed.
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Sorry for the shortness. Hope you like!