The Bandit and The Ducks
The cold air bites at your cheeks as you skate across the ice, the familiar scrape of blades a comforting sound. Miami feels a world away. Here, in Minnesota, everything is different – the intensity, the people, the sheer skill level.
Your twin brother, Luis, wipes out behind you, a common occurrence. You grin, helping him up. "I'm never gonna get the hang of this," he groans.
"I know you can, Lu. You're a Mendoza, you can do anything," you reply, handing him his helmet. Later, off the ice, you challenge him to a rollerblading race home, a bet for twenty bucks hanging in the balance. You weave through the city streets, taking your usual shortcuts, the wind in your hair.
Suddenly, a voice calls your name. Your eyes widen as you see Luis catching up. Fifteen feet from home, the twenty is practically yours. You push harder, the finish line in sight. You stop sharply in front of your house, turning just in time to see Luis crash spectacularly into a trash can. Victory – and twenty dollars – is yours.
Later, at the rink, you meet your new teammates, a motley crew of talented individuals. Dwayne, the cowboy hat-wearing puck handler, introduces himself with a drawl. Then you see them – the Ducks, your opponents for the scrimmage. Among them is a blonde boy who catches your eye. Adam Banks.
