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Charlie quickly hushed Averman and Jesse's elevated conversing as they approached dorm 14, focusing keenly on the task at hand. Having made the mistake of placing a bet against Portman retaining to the National Hockey League, Charlie was determined to get the rest of the Ducks on his side. It was Averman's fault anyway; why should he have to lose twenty bucks for it?
He turned the doorknob open without any thought, "Hey, Con! What'd you--"
None of them should have been surprised as they were to see Connie and Guy nearly an inch apart in the middle of her dorm room. Ever since the beginning, before it was 'Conway and Banks' or 'the Bash Brothers' or any possible variation of the Ducks, it had always been 'Connie and Guy.'
The seemingly gentle hand that was on Guy's arm dropped as frustration dawned upon Connie's face. But her pursed lips of disappointment were nothing compared to Guy's furrowed brow. Before Averman could make a smart remark at their expense -- he was armed with one too; Charlie saw the corners of his mouth quirk up -- Guy shakily reached down, pulling his shoe off and hurling it at them.
"Give me a break!" Guy demanded as the miscalculated footwear soared through the air and nearly hit Charlie on the nose.
Their captain did not need to be told twice, ducking down quickly and fleeing the threshold as soon as his feet would allow, followed by a snickering Jesse and Averman.
Once they had gotten a safe enough distance away from their disgruntled friends, Charlie gave his companions a lopsided smile. "You know, I kind of feel bad for them," he admitted. "I mean, how many times could we possibly interrupt them?"
"By my calculations, one too many," Averman jested. "That shoe almost got you! I can't imagine Banksie would be happy if your face looked all trampled over."
Charlie elbowed him sharply, "Shut up; that shoe was meant for you."
Jesse scoffed, "Conway's not wrong, though. Even Julie doesn't seem to walk in on them as much as we do, and they're roommates."
"You don't even go here!" Averman bickered.
"That's what I'm saying, man."
Charlie came to a sudden halt, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We should make it up to them," he decided.
Averman haphazardly bumped into Charlie's back and dramatically groaned, "Do we have to?"
"Yes," Charlie asserted. "That's an order from your captain."
"Oh, the captain card. Very original."
1.
Connie swung open the diner door, the anticipated chime of it ringing through their ears as she stepped in, Guy following closely behind. The diner looked and smelled as it always had throughout their childhood, the occasional bout of boisterous laughter and the ever-persistent aroma of breakfast food consistently pleasing senses to be met with.
They were confused, to say the least, when Charlie's usual seat before the entrance sat vacantly in front of them. It had been Charlie's idea to meet there, after all, and for an undiscernible reason, he was adamant not to disclose.
"I don't see why he wanted to talk to us here. Especially if he couldn't be bothered to show up," Connie remarked, her lips pressed in a thin line. "Why couldn't we meet at the rink like we always do?"
Guy shrugged, peering around the diner for any sign of their captain, "Dunno. Change of scenery, maybe?"
Connie huffed charmingly, "Have you met Charlie Conway? He thrives on predictability." A shock of curly blonde hair peeked out from behind the bar, causing her to perk up. "Mrs. Conway!" she sighed, relieved, "Do you know where Charlie is?"
Casey turned around at the sound of her voice, her knowing eyes twinkling. "Connie, Guy! You just missed him, but he left this for you two," she smiled kindly, slipping a blue post-it note out of her pocket and handing it to Connie.
Guy peered curiously over his girlfriend's shoulder in an attempt to decipher Charlie's handwriting.
Glad you two are free because I'm not, the note read, the cheeky tone only accentuated by the little winking face drawn beside the message. Have fun on your date.
"That little..." Connie trailed lowly, crumbling the note up. She peered back at Guy, relenting a lot easier than her previous attitude would have suggested, "I suppose there's no use fighting it. Shall we?"
Guy nodded eagerly, swiftly taking up a stool next to Connie, "Yeah! And you don't have to worry; I can-- I can cover the bill."
"What a gentleman," Connie mused.
They made light conversation over milkshakes for some time before the discussion shifted into Connie passionately ranting about Minnesota politics while Guy simpered at her warmly. It was exhilarating, really, how Guy had spent almost the better half of his life being so hopelessly in love with Connie Moreau, and even after all that time, seeing her take charge on the ice and intensely talk about the things she cared about made his chest swell with adoration.
She was in the midst of informing him about this wrestler who had become a Minnesotan mayor the year prior when he had a sudden compulsion to absentmindedly tuck the fallen strand of dark hair behind her ear.
A dimpled smile made its way onto Connie's face as she continued, pink dusting her cheeks.
2.
"Are you sure it's in here?" Connie called out, rifling through the countless shelves of the janitor's closet. Her nose scrunched up as the stench of cleaning chemicals stung her nostrils.
"Oh yeah, definitely," Averman assured them, thoroughly unconvincingly as he casually stood outside. "Coach O told me so."
Guy let out a frustrated sigh, his hands falling quickly to his sides. "We can't find it anywhere. What does Coach need with a feather duster so urgently anyway?"
"Dunno, but who am I to question the requests of our beloved coach?" Averman retorted cheekily.
"Averman, you do that all the time," Connie rolled her eyes. "You could at least come inside and help, you know--" Her eyes darted to the ground, noticing the door beginning to slip from Averman's carelessly placed foot. "Shit, Averman, watch your foot--" she started forward, but the door slammed shut before she could reach it. She tugged harshly at the handle to no avail, instead settling on banging her fists against the door, "Goddamnit, Averman; you locked us in!"
A distinctly different set of footsteps peeked through, followed by the familiar voice of their captain, "You guys alright?"
"Just peachy," Guy shouted sarcastically. "Someone got us stuck in here!"
Rather than chastising Averman as they anticipated, Charlie coolly replied, "We'll go get some help, just stay calm."
Guy scoffed as he heard both Charlie and Averman trot away, followed by a sharp breath. Peering over at Connie, he noticed her jaw tighten as her back hit the wall, and she slid down.
His expression softened, striding over to join her. "You okay?" he asked as he took the spot next to her.
"Yeah," she sighed lightly, holding her arms close to her chest and rubbing at them anxiously. "It's just, uh... small spaces, you know? Stuff like this wouldn't happen if Averman paid more attention."
Guy let out an airy, awkward laugh, "Yeah. That's Averman for you." He quickly clamped his mouth shut, immediately regretting having said anything at all. He wondered why he hadn't noticed Connie's aversion to tight spaces before; it certainly hadn't been an issue until now, as far as he could tell. His eyes dodged over to her, still worrisome, as he thought deeply about how he could amend this. Breaking them out himself was a no-go, so after a moment of unusually long consideration, he did the only thing he could think to do. "Hey, can you hold this for me?"
"Sure, what is it--" the words fell short on her lips as Guy slid his hand into her outstretched one, giving it a gentle squeeze. He offered her a toothy, kind grin, one that she couldn't help but return. "You're such a sap," she shook her head fondly, squeezing his hand back in return.
"They're going to murder you for that, you know," Charlie remarked as his pace quickened in their search for a teacher.
"Sure, blame me, Charlie!" Averman complained, jogging to keep up with his long strides. "It's not like it was your idea or anything!"
3.
"Connie!" Charlie grinned, peeking his head into her dorm room.
"Charlie," Connie greeted him with an ere of suspicion. "What're you doing here?"
"I heard you were failing French."
"I am not failing French!" she countered defensively. "I'm just... not doing so hot."
"Mhm, and we can't risk losing one of our best players at the tail end of the season!" Charlie added, looking all too cheery for the matter he was presenting. "And you've forgotten one thing."
She set down her notebook, taking the bait, "And what's that?"
"You've clearly been underutilising your boyfriend," Charlie pointed a playful finger gun at her before shoving Guy into the room. "Good luck!" he chimed, closing the door on them.
Connie glanced between the now-closed door and her stumbling boyfriend as he caught himself. "Uh... hey."
"Hey," he nodded curtly back, a futile attempt at suavity.
"I didn't realise you knew French," Connie prompted, suddenly feeling guilty that she hadn't thought to ask.
"Oh, sure, my dad uses it around the house all the time," Guy explained, striding closer and taking a seat next to her on the bed. "What're you working on?"
"Expressions. Again," Connie sighed. "I wish I actually understood what's going on in this class, but it's just the same half-covered subjects each time. Not so great for a private school, huh?"
There seemed to be an unspoken understanding between them that she legitimately wanted to learn the language. And if her dodgy eyes were any indication, it was only amplified by the newfound knowledge that it was something Guy was also interested in.
Huh. She actually wanted to impress Guy Germaine. Go figure.
If Guy caught on, he didn't comment, merely taking her discarded notebook and flipping through it with care, "Okay. So, what are some of the things you know so far?"
Connie snorted quietly, almost imperceptibly, at the irony. Here Guy was, seriously wanting to help her with one of her classes when he had always found a way to distract her from her schoolwork in the past. The change in tone was surprising but not entirely unwelcome. She thought carefully, "Uh, let's see... Bienvenue, s'il vous plait, excusez-moi..."
"Très bien!" Guy beamed brightly. "For someone who's supposedly struggling in French, your pronunciation is great."
"Mer-- merci beaucoup," Connie smiled back.
"So, what else do you have?"
Connie bit her lip, pondering quietly, "There's je ne sais pas, à bientôt, enchanté..."
She almost missed the awe-filled gaze Guy gave her when an uncharacteristically soft, "Je t'adore," escaped his lips.
Connie quickly looked up to meet his tender eyes, which suddenly widened as if he realised that he hadn't meant to say that out loud. She glanced back down at the notebook in his hands. "I don't think we've learned that one yet," she considered thoughtfully.
"J-just forget it then," Guy swallowed nervously. "It's, uh... I'm sure you'll get to it eventually. Just take your time."
She tilted her head at him, the feeling that he wasn't exactly referring to the French aspect of it stirring something foreign in her belly.
Guy traced the lines of the paper as he wet his lips, "So, let's see about fixing what your French teacher clearly isn't doing right."
4.
"Sh! Keep quiet!" Charlie hissed.
Connie and Guy kneeled shoulder-to-shoulder, several yards away from the ensuing chaos behind them, keeping a close eye on the surrounding area. Their cherished captain thought it was an excellent idea to release a prank of epic proportions onto the poor, unsuspecting Freshmen under cover of night. Currently, only half of the Ducks that attended Eden Hall were present, the other half like Adam and Ken, exhausted from schoolwork and hockey season ending.
They'd all be lying if they said it didn't bring back fond memories of their own Freshmen year, though.
"I'm trying, I'm trying!" Connie and Guy heard Averman bite back as he secured a rope. "You're the one who thought this was a good idea. You're not better than the varsity assholes our Freshmen year," he huffed, only half-meaning it.
"Oh, pipe down," Charlie shook his head. "It's all in good fun; it's not like we're trying to get them kicked out or anything. Quit being such a wuss."
"You're a dick."
"You are what you--" Goldberg's sentence was promptly cut off by a well-meaning but firm hit to the gut. "Sorry, Cap," he wheezed, keeling over.
"What I do and do not do in the privacy of my own dorm is none of your business, Goldberg," Charlie chided, pushing forward to inspect their handiwork.
Guy nudged Connie lightly. "He's just trying to save Adam some grief," he jested.
Connie couldn't help but chuckle, the sound bringing a smile to her boyfriend's face. "Little does he know, he's only made it worse."
"Absolutely--"
They were alerted next by the shrill of Charlie's duck whistle, cutting through the otherwise serene night. Connie offered her hand to Guy, who accepted graciously as she helped him down.
"We're done?" Connie questioned as they rushed back over to the group.
Charlie gave her a curt nod, eyeing them both with amusement. "You two weren't bickering again, were you?"
"Of course not," Guy replied, a sincere smile on his face as he squeezed Connie's hand. "We're all good, Cap."
Charlie nodded approvingly before turning back to the group, "Alright, let's head back in. Coach O is going to freak if he catches us."
The half-group of Ducks murmured in almost embarrassing agreement, swiftly getting ready to filter back inside and to their dorms. Guy, releasing Connie's hand, opted for the shortest route possible, jogging up the brick-lined stairs that Averman was on seconds ago.
Guy's new direction caught Julie's attention before anyone else could notice. "Guy, wait! That's--" She winced, her words of no consequence as Guy took a miscalculated step forward and the trap tightened around his ankle, lifting him upwards.
He flailed in the air, kicking his free arms and leg to no avail. "Hey!" he shouted at the group, "Come back here, guys, I'm stuck!"
Connie was at his side in an instant. She held his shoulders steadily, attempting to stabilise his suspended body. "Calm down. If you move too much, you'll hurt yourself, moron," she criticised, though her tone was fond.
Doing as Connie instructed, he glared over at Averman for his faulty trap. Averman merely waved him off, shouting something about how he should have paid more attention as he stalked off.
"He has a point, you know," Connie remarked, examining the knot from where she could see. "You should've known there would be traps here."
"Yeah, yeah," Guy brushed it off, too prideful for his own good even as his head began to throb.
Connie shook her head fondly, "You're a dumbass, you know that?"
"Yeah, I know, Con. I'm a big ol' dummy--"
Connie cut him off, cupping his upside-down face in her hands and placing a soft kiss on his lips.
His head spun, feeling warmer by the second between the daze and all the blood rushing to his head.
Connie's attention darted back to what was left of the group, yelling at their fleeing captain, "Charles Conway, you get back here right now and help him down!"
5.
"So, we can agree that it's weird that Adam decided to take us to a baseball game, right?" Connie inquired, leaning into Guy's shoulder as the chilly April wind rushed past them. "I mean, we're hockey players."
"Totally. I didn't even think he was interested in anything other than hockey and Charlie," Guy remarked, pulling off the end of a Twizzler he snuck in with his teeth. He glanced to his left, noticing two of their friends stepping down the concrete steps and rounding into their line of seats. "Speak of the devil. Hey, Banksie! What's up with the baseball game?"
Adam shrugged nonchalantly, looping his arm around Charlie as they sat down beside them. "My dad had tickets, and I thought it'd be nice to hang out," he replied, stealing a piece of popcorn from Charlie.
"Mhm," Guy hummed, sharing an unconvinced glance with Connie. He surveyed the seats around them, seeing most of the Ducks there behind them, with two notable exceptions next to Adam. "And where are Goldberg and Averman?"
"Wreaking havoc somewhere, probably," Charlie answered, smacking Guy's hand as he attempted to take some popcorn from his box.
Though suspicious, neither Connie nor Guy pushed the issue further, trying to continue watching the game. After what seemed like a long while of two of their friends' continuous absence, Adam offhandedly remarked, "Huh, would you look at that," and gestured to the jumbotron ahead.
Connie quirked an eyebrow at him before glancing up to see what all the fuss was about. The large screen shifted from its display of the field to a pastime segment. A cheesy romantic song echoed through the various speakers at the stadium as the screen cut to various couples throughout the audience.
As the screen cut away from a sweet Black couple, Guy found Connie stiffen beside him as it dawned upon them both that the camera had turned its attention to them. Connie's eyes darted down as she attempted to cover her head, embarrassed, and Guy made a quick and obvious 'no' gesture to the camera. The Ducks in the row behind them booed, with Portman and Jesse throwing bits of popcorn at the back of their heads, but the Kiss Cam had already moved onto its next victim.
And that would have been the end of it if it weren't for the fact that it kept on coming back to them after every other couple. Once, and then twice, and by the third time, Connie looked like she just about had enough of it.
"Alright, that's it," she announced, hooking her hand around Guy's scarf and pulling him in a little more gently.
Guy was in such a state of shock that it took him a moment to respond to the kiss, though sparks flew around him once he found his rhyme and began to match Connie's enthusiasm. Her lips were soft against his and pleasantly familiar in a way that never ceased to make him melt into putty in her hands. When she released his scarf and he fell back into his seat, it was like she had stolen all the air from his lungs. To be fair, Connie had always had that effect on him, from PeeWees to Eden Hall and everywhere in between.
The cheering that came from the Ducks didn't die down so easily, especially with Portman's whistling, but once it had, the group lapsed back into excitedly talking about the game amongst themselves.
After a moment of calamity for herself, Connie nudged Guy lightly. "Pretty weird that the camera kept coming back to us, huh?"
Guy, still a little stunned, nodded back with a breathless, "Yeah, weird."
Several more minutes passed before Goldberg and Averman resumed their seats next to Adam, who casually slipped them some cash.
"Pleasure doing business with you, my good sir," Averman whispered theatrically, passing half of the money to Goldberg. He leaned forward in his seat, glaring at Charlie, "I see how it is. Roping your boyfriend into this and making us do your dirty work, hey, Conway?"
"Shut up," Charlie replied lightly, "You had way too much fun with that."
"He's right," Goldberg submitted, "We totally did. I'm surprised it took them that long to go for it."
+1
"You know they've been setting us up this entire time, right?"
Apparently, Guy Germaine wasn't as oblivious as they thought he was. Nor was Connie Moreau as hard of hearing as they would have hoped.
"Yep," she popped the last letter, barely looking up from her book. "I'd think it was almost sweet. But all they had to do was leave us alone for a minute instead of creating some elaborate plan."
Guy nodded in agreement, patiently leaning against the door of Julie and Connie's dorm room.
She placed a bookmark into her copy of The Great Gatsby and set it down on the table beside her. Peering up, she continued, "So, how are we going to get them back?"
Guy's face curled up into a smile, pushing off the wall and striding over to her. He leaned down, cupping her face and kissing her deeply. "I am so glad you asked," he announced quietly against her lips. Suddenly, he grabbed her hands, hoisting her up from her chair and leading her out of the room.
Connie chuckled in confusion as he brought her over to the boys' wing, stopping in front of a dorm she knew all too well. "What're you doing?" she snorted lightly as Guy pressed his ear against the wooden door.
A puckish grin spread across his face as he turned the doorknob and pushed it open abruptly.
The sight they stumbled in on was far better than either of them could have anticipated. Adam hovered over their mighty captain, pushing his jersey up slightly, exposing a small view of his side. He pulled back from a tender kiss, his eyes darting behind him casually before the two Ducks caught his attention, and they widened like a deer in the headlights.
Likewise, Charlie snapped his attention to the door, looking thoroughly horrified.
"What the hell, Guy?" Charlie demanded, pushing his shirt down and swatting Adam's hand away. He sat up so rigidly that he nearly knocked Adam off of him, catching him by the bicep in the nick of time before he could tumble off the bed.
Guy looked absolutely triumphant, his face split into a wide, agape grin. "That's what you get, Conway!" he cheered, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Six years! I've had to endure this for six years!"
"Isn't Averman the one who enjoys torturing you...?" Adam muttered, appalled. "What am I, collateral damage?"
Guy offered him a shrug, "Sorry, Banksie, all's fair in love and war. And this is definitely war, Conway."
Charlie let out a mortified groan, burying his face in the sleeve of Adam's Warriors sweater.
Thrilled and victorious, Guy ushered Connie away from the doorframe and out into the hall, sprinting back to her dorm room before their beloved captain could retaliate. Their laughter echoed through the halls as they ran as fast as their legs could carry them.
Connie fell back down onto her chair, laughter still bubbling in her chest, "Averman's next, right?"
"But of course. But we should definitely keep messing with Charlie," Guy grinned, stealing another kiss from his ecstatic girlfriend.