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37 Times You Called My Name
37 Times You Called My Name
Author: Xiper

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Author: Xiper
last update publish date: 2026-06-23 01:19:21

MIA POV

The second I burst through the arena doors, I know I’ve made a terrible mistake. But it’s too late. My notebook is in Ryder Vaughn’s hands, and the entire Lakewood Wolves hockey team plus half the school is already watching.

“Give it back, Ryder!” I scream, my voice echoing off the high ceilings like a desperate animal.

The warm-up music dies. Skates scrape to a halt. Every head turns toward center ice where Ryder stands like a god among mortals—tall, broad, helmet off, dark hair messy and damp. That signature cocky grin stretches across his stupidly perfect face as he flips through my private notebook.

“Oh my God, listen to this everyone!” he shouts, loud enough for the bleachers to hear. “Chapter one of Mia Thompson’s sad little p**n diary: ‘I can’t stop thinking about Ryder’s hands on me. Rough. Possessive. Making me beg even though I’m still a—’”

He pauses dramatically, eyes widening in fake shock.

“Still a virgin!” he announces, drawing out the word like it’s the funniest punchline in history. “Our sweet little Mia is writing smut about me popping her cherry!”

Laughter explodes across the arena. Phones fly up. Someone whistles. A group of cheerleaders near the glass doubles over, pointing at me.

My stomach drops. Heat floods my face so fast I feel dizzy. I want to die. Right here on the ice.

“Stop it!” I yell, stepping onto the slick surface in my stupid sneakers. My feet slide immediately. “That’s private! You have no right!”

Ryder skates closer, slow and lazy, twirling my notebook between his fingers like a toy. He’s enjoying this way too much. His teammates circle around us like sharks smelling blood.

“Aww, come on, Mia-Mia,” he says in that sing-song voice he knows I hate. “Don’t be shy. We’re all friends here. Tell the truth—do you touch yourself while writing this garbage about me? Do you moan my name when you—”

“Ryder, please,” I choke out, voice breaking. Tears burn my eyes but I blink them back furiously. I will not cry in front of him. Not again.

He stops right in front of me, towering over my 5’4” frame in all his padded gear. Up close, his blue eyes are bright with pure mischief and something meaner underneath.

“Begging already? That’s quick. Usually girls wait until I actually touch them.” He leans down, voice dropping just enough for me to hear the next part. “Though with you, I might need to lower my standards.”

The arena erupts again. Someone shouts, “Burn!” Another laughs, “She’s so red!”

I lunge for the notebook.

Ryder yanks it high above his head, laughing as I slip and nearly crash onto the ice. My arms flail. He catches my wrist with his free hand, gripping hard enough to bruise.

“Clumsy little virgin,” he taunts, loud again. “Can’t even stand on ice without falling for me. How are you gonna handle it when I finally fuck you like you keep begging for in these pages?”

He shakes the notebook open and starts reading again, louder this time, voice dripping with mockery:

“‘His mouth would feel so good between my legs. I wonder if he’d be gentle for my first time or just take what he wants—’”

“Shut up!” I scream, yanking my wrist free. The tears spill over now. I can’t stop them. My whole body shakes with humiliation and rage. “You’re such a fucking asshole!”

Ryder’s grin only widens, delighted by my breakdown. He tosses the notebook behind him. One of his teammates catches it and starts flipping through more pages, reading bits aloud to the others. They howl with laughter.

“Aw, don’t cry, Mia-Mia,” Ryder coos, fake-pouting. He reaches out and roughly wipes a tear from my cheek with his gloved thumb, the gesture almost tender if it wasn’t so cruel in front of everyone. “It’s cute. Really. Pathetic, but cute. Like a lost puppy humping my leg.”

I slap his hand away. Hard.

The arena goes quiet for half a second—then explodes with even louder cheers and “Oooohs!”

Ryder’s eyes flash with something dangerous. He steps closer, crowding me until I have to crane my neck to glare up at him. His voice turns low and venomous, but he makes sure it still carries.

“You know what’s really funny?” he says. “You actually think I’d ever want someone like you. Plain. Awkward. Still untouched at seventeen like some scared little prude. Keep dreaming in your diary, virgin. The only way I’d touch you is if I was bored and wanted to ruin you for fun.”

My chest caves in. The words hurt worse than any shove or trip he’s ever pulled. Because deep down, some stupid part of me still wants him. The boy he used to be before he became this monster.

I shove him with both hands. He doesn’t budge an inch.

“Stay away from me,” I whisper, but my voice trembles.

Ryder laughs, loud and obnoxious. “Too late for that, Mia. You wrote my name thirty-seven times. Thirty-seven! You’re obsessed.”

He skates backward a few feet, arms spread wide like he’s performing for the crowd.

“Listen up, Wolves fans! If anyone sees Mia touching herself while thinking about me, please report back. I like knowing my charity cases are staying dedicated!”

The entire place loses it.

I stand there frozen, tears streaming, sneakers soaked from the ice, my most humiliating secrets broadcast to the entire school. Ryder blows me a mocking kiss, then turns and skates away like he didn’t just destroy me in front of everyone.

But as he joins his teammates, I catch him glancing back once.

Not laughing anymore.

Just watching.

Like the game between us has only just begun.

And I have no idea how I’m going to survive him.

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Comments (1)
goodnovel comment avatar
Fulfilment Ebube Peter
WOW. Why would she writes something like that. and how did it got to him. but he is really invading your privacy.
VIEW ALL COMMENTS

Latest chapter

  • 37 Times You Called My Name    098

    Mia POVThe invitations went out on a Thursday, and by Friday morning the first reply had already come back, tucked in with the regular mail like it belonged there.Ryder found it first. He was standing at the counter with his coffee when I came down, turning the envelope over in his hands like it might tell him something before he opened it."That was fast," I said."It's from the two on the list." He meant the agents, though he never called them that anymore, not really, not the way he used to. "They RSVP'd within a day.""Did they say yes?"He slid the card across the counter instead of answering, and I read it standing there in my socks with my coffee going cold. Two names, checked yes, and underneath in smaller handwriting, a line that read simply, wouldn't miss it for the world. Ryder didn't say anything, but he read it twice before he set it down, and something in his jaw eased in a way I recognized now, the particular relief of a man who used to carry other people's safety and

  • 37 Times You Called My Name    097

    Mia POVThe music arrived before the invitations did, which Ryder said made perfect sense and my mother said made no sense at all."You need people to invite before you need a song," she said, spreading three new pages across the kitchen table like evidence."I need the song first," Ryder said. "So I know what I'm walking toward."I looked up from my coffee. "You already picked one?""I've had it picked for a while." He didn't look embarrassed saying it, just certain, the way he was about most things now. "I'll play it for you tonight. Not now. Tonight."My mother raised an eyebrow at me over her mug, delighted and nosy in equal measure, but she let it go and turned the conversation toward invitations instead, reading names off the new notebook page like a roll call. Eleven, still eleven, though she kept threatening to add a twelfth every time she remembered someone else who deserved to be there.The day moved slow and easy after that. We drove into town for envelopes and stamps, ordi

  • 37 Times You Called My Name    096

    Mia POVRyder actually bought the notebook.He set it on the table before breakfast, brand new, spine still stiff, next to the folded grocery receipt like a promotion ceremony. My mother clapped once, delighted, and immediately claimed the first page for herself."Six weeks," she said, writing the date across the top in careful letters. "Now it's official. No more bananas.""The receipt served us well," Ryder said. "We should frame it.""We are not framing a grocery receipt.""We're framing the grocery receipt."I let them argue about it while I poured coffee, and by the time I sat down they'd compromised on tucking it inside the back cover of the notebook instead, which satisfied nobody completely and therefore counted as a fair deal.The morning moved quickly after that. A dress shop two towns over had a Tuesday opening, and my mother had already called ahead. Ryder drove us, dropped us at the door, and told us to take however long we needed, that he had errands of his own, which I

  • 37 Times You Called My Name    096

    Mia POVRyder actually bought the notebook.He set it on the table before breakfast, brand new, spine still stiff, next to the folded grocery receipt like a promotion ceremony. My mother clapped once, delighted, and immediately claimed the first page for herself."Six weeks," she said, writing the date across the top in careful letters. "Now it's official. No more bananas.""The receipt served us well," Ryder said. "We should frame it.""We are not framing a grocery receipt.""We're framing the grocery receipt."I let them argue about it while I poured coffee, and by the time I sat down they'd compromised on tucking it inside the back cover of the notebook instead, which satisfied nobody completely and therefore counted as a fair deal.The morning moved quickly after that. A dress shop two towns over had a Tuesday opening, and my mother had already called ahead. Ryder drove us, dropped us at the door, and told us to take however long we needed, that he had errands of his own, which I

  • 37 Times You Called My Name    096

    Mia POVRyder actually bought the notebook.He set it on the table before breakfast, brand new, spine still stiff, next to the folded grocery receipt like a promotion ceremony. My mother clapped once, delighted, and immediately claimed the first page for herself."Six weeks," she said, writing the date across the top in careful letters. "Now it's official. No more bananas.""The receipt served us well," Ryder said. "We should frame it.""We are not framing a grocery receipt.""We're framing the grocery receipt."I let them argue about it while I poured coffee, and by the time I sat down they'd compromised on tucking it inside the back cover of the notebook instead, which satisfied nobody completely and therefore counted as a fair deal.The morning moved quickly after that. A dress shop two towns over had a Tuesday opening, and my mother had already called ahead. Ryder drove us, dropped us at the door, and told us to take however long we needed, that he had errands of his own, which I

  • 37 Times You Called My Name    095

    Mia POVThe guest list started on the back of an old grocery receipt, because none of us wanted to touch the real notebook this early in the week.We sat at the kitchen table after breakfast, my mother between us. Ryder had a pen in one hand and his coffee in the other. He wrote his own name first, as a joke, then crossed it out and wrote it again under a heading he labeled family."That's not funny," I said."It's a little funny." He slid the receipt toward me so I could add mine.I wrote my mother's name first. After that the list got harder, not because there weren't people who mattered, but because most of the people who had mattered most this past year weren't the kind you'd find in an old address book."What about the team," I said.Ryder looked up. "Which part of it.""The part that's still here." I nodded toward the window, where the morning rotation was making its slow loop past the roses. "The two who stayed the longest. They ate dinner with us more nights this year than mos

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