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It was Ruffnut’s fault. All had started with an innocent request made by her and ended with her bellowings. Hela had merely gotten embroiled in the mess, the collateral damage of being the Thorston’s friend and her incapability to say no.
“So, Hiccs, what are your plans for Friday? Anything in particular?”
Both women were in the changing rooms getting ready for P.E., chatting while putting on the sports uniform. They —Ruffnut— didn’t mind being a little late to the class, moving with eased parsimony and ignoring the teacher’s yells to come out.
“Not really.” Hela answered, slipping on her t-shirt. Her skin bristled. It was starting to get cold, maybe next time she would bring a jacket. “Asher has told me to go watch a movie, maybe I’ll do that.”
The Thorston replied as she tied her shoelaces. “Well, cancel it, because I have a much better plan.”
The brunette cocked an eyebrow, amused. “Like what?”
“The women’s basketball club is hosting a charity game, all afternoon. They are looking for volunteers to participate.”
Hela had a feeling where this was going, and she certainly did not like it. “And?”
“And I may have suggested to their leader that we both play with them.” Ruffnut said, drawling the first word comically.
“Really?!” Gaped the Haddock, eyes wide in shock. Her tone was stupified, raw in bewilderment. “Without letting me know? What happened to consent?”
“I didn’t think it through!” Moaned Ruffnut, hands in the air.
“You never think things through!” Answered the Chief’s daughter with the same intensity. “Ruff! I don’t know shit about basketball! Did you forget? I am literally handicapped!”
“Okay, for starters, ‘handicapped’ is rude. And, secondly, Tuff and I can teach you, Friday is four days away!”
“Exactly. Only four days to teach me everything about a sport I lack basic knowledge in, skills, footwork, aim…” The Haddock numbered with her fingers, widening her eyes for emphasis. “Want me to continue? You cannot put the cart before the horse.”
“You’re my only option, Hiccs.” The Throston begged on her knees, trying to grab Hela’s hands on hers. “I thought about dressing my brother as a girl but with the stench he always carries they’ll notice right away."
The brunette sighed, denying with her head. “You know I hate to say this but it’s not my problem.”
“Hiccs, my dear, sweet, angelic Hiccs,” Hela rolled her eyes, almost scoffing, “they are counting on us! I can’t fail them now.”
“What is that event even for? To fund their next trip to Marbella?” The Haddock asked, arms crossed.
“A shelter is at risk of being closed due to the lack of support. All the money gathered in the event will be destined to help the shelter continue functioning.” The Thorston made puppy eyes at her. “Plus, no one will be there, it’s just a shoddy event no one will bat an eye to, just nice enough to spend the afternoon with.”
At that, the brunette paused, biting the inside of her cheek. Hela had a silent conversation with her conscience, the one that was poking at her to accept the plan. After all, Toothless —her cat— had been saved by a shelter when he fell sick of Cystitis.
Still, she would be set up for embarrassment. It’s not that the Haddock had two left feet, she only had a flesh one. And she tripped just as often as she used to when she had both.
Though, if it was really an anodyne, ‘underground’ event no one knew about, it wasn’t bound to be that bad, right?
Huffing, the brunette let her head drop, defeated. “Alright, you win. I’ll go.”
Ruffnut’s whole face lightened, as though she had been given the chalice of youth. Just as quickly, she grabbed her friend’s hands, squeezing them tight.
“Oh Gods! You won’t regret it, Hiccs! You’ll see!”
“Sure, sure.” Hela sighed. “Thank the Gods you’ll be the only one there.”
History class had never been more eventful. At least to Hela, who had been thrown a bombshell in the middle of the magnificent experience of trying to do the homework assigned by the substitute teacher in absence of Mr. Linklater.
“What do you mean by ‘they are going’?” She hissed, pausing to write for a split second to look at her friend.
“Things have gotten out of hand, Hiccup.” Said Ruffnut as she pretended to do her homework, glancing from time to time to her deskmate. “Apparently the word has been spread all over the school, and now everyone will be attending the event. Wait, no, not only the school. Parents, other associations… For Thor’s sake, even your father will be there! We won’t even fit!”
“What?!” Yelled Hela, far too loud than she would have wanted. Some students turned their heads to look at her, bored by the homework assigned, looking at her as if she had grown another head. “Everyone will be there?! Wasn’t it, and I quote, ‘some shoddy event no one would even bat an eye to’?”
“That’s what Ingrid told me,” between the lines, “but she told her brother and I told mine. Her brother told their parents and my brother told his friends. It got passed on really quickly, you know how much of a bigmouth Tuffnut is.”
Writing messily in her notebook, the Haddock complained, pettiness laced with future and potential embarrassment. The inside of her cheek hurt with how much she bit it. “And why in the hell would Tuffnut’s friends want to be there?”
“I don’t know if you'll like the answer.”
“Save me the details, yes.” Then, on a second thought, the Chief’s daughter added. “Ugh.”
A few minutes went by, the brunette choosing to scribble on a loose sheet of paper rather than throwing insults at her friend. She had to physically stop herself from speaking, biting her tongue until it stung. So many thoughts were running through her mind, though one won over the others with a fantastic sprint.
“You have set me up for social ostracism.” She eventually spoke, frowning. A bit of anguish seeped inevitably, matching with the non-perceivable pout her lips protruded in. The situation didn’t call for moping or crying, though Hela certainly felt like doing so. Her eyes even itched as a warning.
“I know.” Sighed Ruffnut, rubbing her temple. She had the decency to sound repentant. “I’ll buy you vanilla ice cream for two weeks straight in compensation.”
“My social status doesn’t equate to two weeks of store-bought ice cream, no matter the flavour.” No matter if it’s my favourite, was left unsaid. Despite it, Hela pondered about accepting the offer. For collateral damage.
She sighed, returning to her homework.
Another silent second passed before the Thorston spoke again, throwing information like it didn’t weigh anything.
“Asher will be going, if that helps.”
The Haddock immediately let out a pitiful groan, covering her face with her hands and rubbing her eyes with them. “It does not! It makes it even worse, Ruff!”
“Between me and you, he is whipped. Your poor athletic performance will surely be seen as something cute.” Ruffnut let the words flow freely, growing a tad desperate in her attempt to soothe her friend’s worries. “Like a baby deer or something.”
“Stop talking, we both know that’s not true.”
“It could be!”
“Ruffnut, enough.” The Haddock barked, heaving.
Yet another pause settled, this time less tense. From the corner of her eye, Hela saw how the Thorston passed her a small note with a doodle, sliding through the desk in silence.
“Six p.m today, at the park. Dinner’s on me once we finish.”
The Haddock answered just as quietly, without knowing if she would regret it. “...deal.”
“I mean, you’re not hopeless.”
Hela groaned at what Tuffnut said. She was panting, completely exhausted on the floor whereas the twins were staring down —literally— at her, completely unaffected by the physical activity.
The Haddock, as opposed to Ruffnut, sported a loose-fitting trackie in hopes of helping with moving more loosely. Tuffnut, for his part, bore a wannabe Lakers fit that was different to tell apart from a stoner. The sun was far from setting, and many parents were with their kids at the park, which only made them stand out more than they already did.
“You need to work on the footwork, the rest is fairly good.” Offered Ruffnut, lending a hand to help her stand up. “We have three days left to polish our skills, don’t worry!”
“It’s easy for you to say.” Complained the Haddock as she rose to her feet. “You are already good at this.”
With a dismissal, the brunette was out to work again: run a few more laps (which she dreaded), some push-ups to gain muscle in her arms (Hela barely managed to do six), aim drills (her mind and arm were mad at each other, for some reason)…
However, amidst the exhaustive training and preparation laid a problem not everyone could tell apart. A problem that put at stake everything she was working hard for, putting all this effort to potential waste.
Her body wasn’t used to all these physical demands for a prolonged period of time.
In other words, she was lazy. And inconsistent in her habits.
After so much exercise, Hela doubted she would be able to move the next day. Or Friday. It was in moments like these when she thanked not having a foot, despite the ghost pain it conveyed sometimes and the psychological meltdowns that came with it. Her throat was as dry as the Sahara desert, but the Haddock seriously doubted she could even walk the enormous distance —five meters— that spread out from the water bottle and her.
“I’ve seen improvement, if it helps.” Tuffnut commented, oddly merciful today. “You’ve gone from not basketing a single shot to getting four out of ten in.”
“Still not good enough to play a forsaken match in front of everyone.” Muttered the brunette, sat on a bench with the twins at both sides.
“You can be at the bench all the match.”
“That would be depressing.” Quipped the boy, unaware of his surroundings and the murderous glare his sister was sending him and continuing to dribble the ball around the court. “I couldn’t think of anything worse.”
Hela sighed. “Right.”
“We still have time to shape you into a female version of LeBron James.” Reassured Ruffnut, stretching her arms. As gracefully as always, she turned to her twin and swatted him in the nape. “And you, twat, have to keep quiet about this. If I hear that you’re rolling your tongue as usual, be ready to get your ass beaten.”
“I won’t.” Spoke Tuffnut half-assedly, though after a discerning glare from both women, he threw his hands in surrender, letting the ball unattended. “Really, I won’t!”
“You better.” Threatened the Haddock, voice remarkably cutting. “Or I’ll tell Fishlegs about what you did to one of his books.”
The boy deflated where he now sat, drowning in defeat.
The next three afternoons were spent just the same: the three of them occupying a court in the park, Tuffnut ordering them what to do and sharpening their skills (more Hela’s than anything).
To the Haddock’s credit, she progressed considerably and could be considered fairly good at the sport on Thursday evening —good enough to be able to challenge Ruffnut and Tuffnut separately.
Coming from zero, it was a miracle. She made sure to reward herself with a treat.
Hela and Ruffnut stretched, loosely aware of the incoming people entering the gym. Hordes and hordes of spectators waiting for the match to commence; some familiar faces —Tuffnut, Gobber, Stoick, Asher…— stood out from the growing crowd, whereas others were absolute strangers. The brunette swore she had even seen her dentist among them.
“Oh Gods.” Griped Hela, conflicted. “At this rate all Berk is going to be here. I’m gonna puke.”
“Relax, I’ll be cheering on you when I’m benched.”
“Please don’t.”
Each team was made up by both volunteers and members from the school’s women basketball team, so it wasn’t unfair to any of the parties. To be more specific, out of the five people on court from each team, three of them would be from the club.
Furthermore, on their team there were three volunteers, so one of them was bound to be benched for some part of the match. The girl’s coach was initially concerned in regard to her disability, worried she might experience heavy cramps or phantom pain after too much exercise, but both Hela and Ruffnut reassured her it was not going to be a problem. In any case, to prevent any potential discomfort, they made sure to do extra stretching and therapeutic massages.
“I have yet to change into the uniform.” Spoke the brunette, finishing her set of stretches.
“Go on, I’ll meet you here.”
Once finished, Hela returned to the gym where Ruffnut waited, now surrounded by their team. They were talking about planned plays, drinking water and finishing the remains of their snacks, despite the Haddock doubting she could concentrate with so many people watching them. Any food digested would end up being vomited, the brunette was sure of it. She made sure not to take a bite. While calming her nerves, she noted how her friend had her hair on two beautiful box braids.
Hela made out her father from the sea of people and waved, trying her best to calm the bundle of nerves she was becoming.
When the whistle rang, every player got into position, as well as the public quieting down and settling in their seats.
Wordlessly, she came closer to her friend.
“Damn, Hiccs. What an ass you got.” Ruffnut gasped, looking behind her.
“Stop, we’re about to play.” Scolded the Chief’s daughter, biting back a guffaw. “You’ll make me laugh.”
“Can’t promise anything, you have a gem hidden down there.”
“No, seriously, everyone is watching.” The brunette did her best at sounding serious, watching as the tallest of each team went forward to catch the ball. “Save your boldness for when this finishes.”
She left no room for replies, as the ball was already in play. Hela did her best at not committing any fouls or steps, covering the opponent she was assigned and passing the ball when it was more timely. If the situation required it, she threw to score —and succeeded many times, even more than when she had practiced!
It seemed like, after all, her dormant talent was finally being awakened.
The Haddock’s team dominated the first quarter, 25 to 20.
For the second quarter, Hela was benched. Not that she minded, as she had time to recover, drink water and interact with her teammates, chatting and joking around, the initial awkwardness slowly dissolving into a more comfortable atmosphere. Some thanked her for participating —as they had not met her beforehand—, for which the Chief’s daughter brushed it off. The guilt struck her for a moment when she remembered she didn’t want to play.
The public was surprisingly supportive, never ceasing to scream and celebrate whenever a team scored. The brunette watched as Tuffnut, Snotlout and Fishlegs cheered and laughed loudly, whereas Asher limited himself to eating and joking around more discreetly yet equally interested. Her father sat next to Gobber in one of the nearest rows to the court. Stoick did his best at focusing on the game, though Hela smiled when he sneaked plenty of glances at her. On the other side, Gobber didn’t hesitate to scream for the Chief’s daughter despite her being benched.
Ruffnut played during the second quarter, this time without her friend accompanying her. The Thorston, as the whirlwind she was, played the way she acted: energetic and full of surprises. It looked as though the match had gotten fully to her, pouring everything she had on her. It almost didn’t look like a charity match to her, competitiveness rushing through her blood.
When the second quarter wrapped up, their team was losing 34 to 36.
“God!” Panted Ruffnut, sprawled on her chair and absolutely beat up while the break went on. “I can't go no more, Hiccs. My limbs feel like jelly.”
“It looked like it.” Laughed the Haddock, adjusting the uniform. “Now it’s my turn to play.”
“Go for it, Hiccs.” The Thorston spurred Hela on, a tired smile on her face. “I’ll be cheering on you!”
“Don’t, I know how you are.”
“Can’t hear you!” Chanted the blonde as her friend walked into the court.
So there Hela was, waiting again for the whistle to blow while being growingly aware of the stares on her.
For the third quarter, the brunette kept up her performance, helping every time she was needed. She even managed to do some things she hadn’t dared: pivot, shoot a triple (and succeed!) and offer herself to throw free throws.
Everything was on a roll, the Haddock was actually enjoying herself. Nothing could snap her out of the reverie.
Nothing except her friend, it seemed.
“Oh my god, share some with me, Hiccs!”
“Now I understand why you’re never hungry for sweets, carrying all that cake around.”
“Need some help holding it? It looks heavy!”
“That cake’s making me hungry!”
“I’m salivating.”
“I wouldn’t mind dying if it were by being suffocated by the weight of that fat ass on my face.”
All the comments Ruffnut made were throwing Hela off her game, distracting and flustering her. It didn’t help that her voice tone wasn’t exactly quiet —quite the opposite. Her voice stood out from the normal cheers among the crowd, drawing in attention to what she was screaming. Never ceasing her bellowings which were, as a matter of fact, utterly corny and that screamed second-hand embarrassment.
Which only made the Chief’s daughter want to crawl and herself from shame. She tried making signals at her to shut up, but they were blatantly ignored. Now the brunette was flushing red and not from physical exercise —from absolute, raw mortification; one that narrowed her vision, tightened her jaw, made her cheeks burn in shame and dwindled her awareness of her environment in the court.
All she could think about was the stares on the back of her neck (she hoped) and Ruffnut and how to make her friend shut her mouth. Gulping, the Haddock forced herself to focus.
She was going to make a fool of herself with Ruffnut’s comments either way, it was best to at least show great skills to the people watching.
People watching. Tuffnut, Snotlout, Fishlegs, Stoick, Gobber, Asher.
Oh God.
Her father was watching and hearing what the Thorston was screaming at the top of her lungs. Asher too.
Hela was going to kill her friend. There, with her bare hands around her neck. Maybe even take out her prosthetic to hit her in the head while she’s unconscious. Have the police drag her out of the gym while everyone stands shell-shocked.
Another one of Ruffnut’s awful, shameless comments mowed down her fantasy.
“As far as I’m aware, you’re not supposed to bring snacks to the court, Hiccs!”
If looks could kill, Ruffnut would be buried five meters deep.
Alas, they didn’t. So the Haddock limited herself to ignoring the burning feeling on her face and the desire to disappear from the visage of Earth.
There were children watching, heavens above!
(And, even if they weren’t she still would appreciate it if the Throston kept those things to their private, joking hang out time.)
The third quarter was not as good as the first one. Sure, Hela continued to play relatively well and be a reliable player, but the point distance with the opposing team was barely shortened. Yet it didn’t help that Ruffnut didn’t know how to keep her thoughts to herself, throwing everyone out of their game.
So, the quarter reached its end excruciatingly slow for the brunette. Even worse taking into account the scoreboard, 48 to 59. The Chief’s daughter headed straight to her friend, who was lounging on the bench, mouth full with food.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” Spoke Hela, an embarrassed frown on her face as she pointed an accusing finger to her.
“Do what?”
“Don’t play the dim girl with me, Ruffnut. At this point everyone is more focused on what you’re screaming than the match.”
“I’m just livening up the gym.” The blonde sounded unapologetic, making placating hands at her.
The Haddock said, exasperated. “And mortifying me in doing so!”
“Girls,” called the captain, “the fourth quarter is about to start. Hela, you’re kept on the court.”
“And me?” Ruffnut asked, hopeful.
“You keep screaming on the bench.” Answered the captain.
The brunette groaned at the same time Ruffnut did, but because of a different motive. While the blonde dreaded boring herself on the bench, the Chief’s daughter had the recently discovered apprehension to know twelve minutes of constant explicit yells awaited her.
Still, she sucked the feeling up and got herself into place. Better to confront a problem with her head raised —she had learnt that deep into her short life.
The fourth quarter was fairly better than the third, though not quite reaching the peak the first did. Sure, they managed to shorten the distance by a couple of points and even take the lead for minutes, but in the end the other team changed an injured player and —with the help of someone’s screams— tightened their defense. It didn’t help that the one covering Hela was 1.83 meters tall —in comparison to her respectable 1.69—, nor the slight tremble of her fingers whenever Ruffnut's voice reached her ears.
Finally, after running, sweating and having fun, the whistle blew and the other team came victorious with 76 to 74. Panting, Hela walked to the bench as she scoured her bag for a bottle of water. Her fringe sticked uncomfortably to her forehead, and she was certain the ponytail she gathered her hair in was now a messy nest. If the brunette didn’t rush to the showers in the next ten minutes, a cold would be waiting for her.
“Ah!” Lamented Ruffnut, hands on her hair and gripping it. “We were so close! I can’t believe it, I want a rematch!”
It’s a beneficial match, Ruff. The point wasn’t to win.” Hela said, wiping her sweat with a towel. She did feel a bit hopeless, but didn’t bitch about it. At least she didn’t make a fool of herself, physically speaking. “And we would have won if you hadn’t screeched like a banshee about my ass.”
“I was waxing poetry, it is very different.” The Thorston replied, walking towards the showers and having the Haddock trail behind her.
“Kiss my ass.”
“Gladly.”
The snort the blonde girl tried to hide was audible for everyone in a five kilometer radius. “I need a shower. Come on, Hiccs.”
“Alright.”
“Hela, can we talk? For a minute?”
Ruffnut grinned widely, a wolfish smile annoying enough to make red bloom on the Haddock’s cheeks. It had nothing to do with the idea and plan of joining the showers to rinse all the sweat off, but with the male and usually sharp voice calling her friend’s name.
Asher Hofferson stood impassively five meters away from them.
Despite his usual indifference, the slightest of emotion could be told apart by the twitch of his lips —in a grin or a grimace, it was hard to differentiate.
Hela really should have turned Ruffnut’s offer down, left her to face the consequences of her actions and gone to the cinema. Having Asher sit next to her, watch an intrepid, nerve-wracking movie while sharing popcorn sounded so much better than having her ass flaunted in exaggerated pick-up lines in front of everyone. Pick-up lines that, if the Hofferson didn’t suffer from a heavy deafness, he had listened.
The brunette’s heart jumped off a cliff, tried to swim and drowned when remembering the anodyne fact that he had been watching the match, with everything it had happened. Now more than ever she wanted to crawl into a hole and hide forever.
Instead, the Chief’s daughter spoke, her tone in a badly disguised high-pitch. “Sure.”
Mouthing a discreet ‘I’ll kill you’ to her friend and reserving the sharpest of looks to her, she walked with Asher. Her trembling fingers couldn’t be hidden from his eyes even if she tried, so at least the Haddock kept them busy to untie her ponytail and put some order into her hair.
“You played nice.” Started the blonde boy, breaking the ice. “Totally didn’t expect that footwork from you.”
“Ooh, low blow, I see.” Hela whistled as she matched his grin with exaggerated aggravation. “Can’t even pay a nice compliment without it being back-handed.”
Huffing, Asher conceded. “Okay, fine. Your throws were kind of impressive.”
“Kind of?”
He nudged her with his shoulder, bumping softly. “Don’t rub it in.”
The Haddock did answer vicariously, sending him a side glare. She exhaled through her nose, settling in the silence that stretched with them. A restrained smile creeped through her face inevitably, giddy with the happiness that brought being next to the blonde boy.
Out of the sudden, snapping Hela out of her momentaneous happy bubble, the Hofferson asked. “Are you lesbian, Hela?”
She paused for a second, face frozen in a gobsmacked grimace. The brunette hadn’t expected such a question. “…What?”
The boy looked almost unfazed, though his face contorted slightly in a grimace. “Ruffnut seems hyperfixated on your bottom.”
The comments. The fucking comments Ruffnut made.
Hela was going to kill her for sure. The collateral damage of her words and outburst in hopes of cheering her up was her crush —the one she had been making moves on and the one who looked just as interested in her as well— thinking she was in a sapphic affair with her best friend.
Great. Fantastic.
“I’m not a lesbian!” The Chief’s daughter was quick to answer, voice a tad frenzied. Her hands hovered frantically for effect. “In any case, that would be her, not me!”
“Right.” He drawled hesitantly, fumbling. “So, you’re not into women.”
“Nope.” Hela denied as she moved her head and hands for emphasis. “Not at all, like minus a a million”
Asher nodded slowly, staring beyond him. “You like men.”
“Yes.”
In a tone no one could hear, Asher sighed under his breath. “Thank God.”