Stay Fierce

Brent Seabrook put his car into park mode and sat back in his seat, his eyes scanning the girls that were walking out the doors of the high school. At first, the younger girls walked out. Maybe 13, 14. Freshman for sure. Then they were followed by some of the older looking girls who got into cars, 16 no doubt, and then the girls who carried themselves with pride and dignity, no doubt in his mind that those were the seniors.

The last girl walked out, and Brent found himself stumped as no one else exited through the doors for a while.

Getting ready to unbuckle his seatbelt and get out of the car to search for his sister, a familiar brunette head fell into his eyesight and he relaxed, letting out a relieved sigh and unlocking the car doors.

She seemed a little reluctant to get into the car once she reached it, but eventually opened the door and put her bag on the floor of the car first before getting in herself and closing the door softly shut after her.

It was silent for a moment before Brent decided to speak up, "How was the first practice?"

"Fine."

And that was that. With the soft comment said, Amilie turned her head to look out the window.

Brent pursed his lips and silently debated whether or not he should speak up again. He and Amelie didn't really have the best relationship ever, they haven't talked in a while since Brent had been drafted into the NHL and away from Canada, and not only that, but Amilie must've still been a bit shy and shaken form the sudden move and change in her life, being sent to live with her brother.

Deciding to stay quiet for the time being, Brent turned the keys in the ignition and started the car up, pulling out of the lot in front of the high school and out into the now busy streets of Chicago.

As soon as he was out on the main road to his apartment, they were stuck in traffic. Heaving an impatient sigh, Brent's eyes snapped over to the clock on his car radio. 5:32.

"Shit." He cursed unintentionally out loud.

Amelie ripped her eyes from the Chicago scenery to look at her brother questioningly, "What's wrong?"

Brent ran a hand through his hair, "I have to be at the rink at six, ready for practice." He groaned.

Amelie bit her lip, a guilty pit rising in her stomach at the thought that it was her fault that her brother would be late for practice. She knew how important hockey was to him.

"I'm sorry." She stated quietly after a while of silence, her head dropped down to look at her lap where she was wringing her hands nervously, her wet hair forming a curtain around her face.

Brent's eyes snapped to the ashamed form of his sister and his eyebrows furrowed together, "For what?" He asked in disbelief.

"For being in your life three days and already screwing it up."

His jaw slacked open. "U-h, d-, you're not-, Amelie, you've done nothing wrong." He finally stuttered out.

Her brown eyes looked up, sparkling and dancing in humor; "Do you mean to tell me it won't be my fault that you're late to practice?"

"Yeah-"

She cut him off with a laugh, "Brent, it's my entire fault. If you didn't have a sister to pick up from swim practice, you'd be at the United Center already."

His pursed his lips, not speaking up, knowing she had a point there. They both stayed silent for a while, the sounds of the busy Chicago streets from the outside being heard. Seeing as the traffic was going nowhere and not wanting to spend the entire time in deadly silence, he decided to start up conversation again.

"So how was swimming? And I want a real answer this time."

Amelie kept staring out the window for a little while before sighing and turning to look at her brother, whose eyes met hers right away, awaiting an answer.

"They hate me already."

He was confused, "Who hates you?"

"The seniors."

Her answer didn't clear up his confusion; it just deepened it, "So? You swim with the Frosh Soph team."

Amelie looked as if she wanted to say something, but soon gave up. "You're right, it doesn't matter."

He opened his mouth to speak up again, but just as he was about to question his sister further, his cell phone rang out.

"Yeah?" He answered, flipping open the phone.

"Dude, where are you? I'm all ready to leave for practice." Colin Fraser, they always car pooled to and from practice.

Brent sighed, "I'm coming back from picking Amelie up and we got stuck in traffic."

"Picking her up from what? Doesn't school started for like, another two weeks?"

Brent rubbed his temple with his free hand and sneaked a glance at his sister. She was turned from him, looking out the window again but he knew she was listening. "Yeah, but swimming is a fall sport and it starts before school does, today was the first practice."

"Oh," The realization in Colin's tone only lasted for a second before the confusion was back, "She's a swimmer?"

Brent let out an aggravated sigh, "Have you been listening to anything I’ve been telling you for the past three weeks?"

"She only arrived three days ago!"

"Yeah, but we knew since the beginning of-" Brent cut himself off, realizing this was going nowhere, "Listen, I gotta go, tell Coach Q i'll be a little late to practice."

After saying his goodbyes, Brent hung up the phone and peered out the windshield again, seeing the traffic had basically gone away as it started to move and the road to his apartment started to clear.

He quickly glanced at his sister, grinning, "Guess we got lucky this time, eh?"

Amelie turned to him, a faint smile on her lips, "Yeah."