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~042: Next Big Game
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2025-08-15 14:36:12
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A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA ~043: Eyes off the Captain Calla
Calla“Alright, Icewolves!” Coach Halford’s voice booms. “Line up, full sprints, let’s move!”The morning air is crisp enough to sting my nose, and the faint smell of cut grass clings to every breath. The open field is buzzing - whistles, sneakers pounding the turf, shouts echoing from both the hockey side and the cheer section. It’s general practice day, which means everybody’s out here at once, trying to look like the best version of themselves while pretending they aren’t checking out everyone else.I’m standing at the edge of the cheer zone, my pom-poms hanging loose at my sides while we stretch in formation. The hockey team’s just a few yards away, their coach pacing with a whistle around his neck, barking orders like he’s conducting a boot camp.The sound of cleats tearing into turf is sharp, almost rhythmic. They break into their chant as they run, voices deep and rough enough to rumble through the morning air.“ICE!” “WOLVES!” “ICE!” “WOLVES!”I steal a glance over at them - t
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA ~042: Next Big Game
RonanThe clang of metal against metal echoes through the team house gym, the sound bouncing off the concrete walls like we’re inside a giant drum. Casen’s grunting through his last set on the bench press, veins popping across his forearms, sweat rolling down his temple. I’m leaning against the squat rack with my water bottle, scrolling through nothing on my phone just to keep my hands busy. The smell in here is the usual cocktail of sweat, rubber mats, and whatever protein powder someone spilled earlier.It’s one of those mornings where we’re not really talking, just trading the occasional grunt or nod. Casen racks the bar and lets out a low whistle. “That’s my new PR.” He wipes his forehead with the bottom of his shirt, flashing the kind of abs that make girls follow his Instagram for the wrong reasons.Before I can throw a sarcastic congratulations his way, the door swings open and Blaire strides in. Not walks. Strides. There’s a difference. Her hair’s pulled back tight, her jaw ev
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA ~041
CallaAs soon as I walk into the practice hall, my stomach sinks. For a second I think it’s about something else. Then Sasha’s voice cuts over the noise, sharp and bright.“There she is,” she says, like a spotlight switched on.Phones surf the room. Heads tilt toward the same small rectangle of light. Blaire’s hand tightens on her water bottle and I can tell she’s seen whatever is on that screen already. My throat goes dry.Sasha holds her phone up like it’s a trophy. “You should really see this, Calla. Truly cinematic.” She taps play, smug as hell.The clip is grainy, shadows and bad angles. At first I thought it must be another stupid prank, someone using a doppelgänger or a costume. Then the figure in the clip presses itself against a brick wall, lips crushing against someone who looks a lot like Wyatt. The jacket, the jawline, the way the light hits the side of his face — it looks real enough. There’s a stupid, sick churn in my stomach, like I swallowed a stone.This is not me. I
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA ~040
Ronan Her mouth fits mine like we have practiced this a hundred times in secret. Heat hits first, then the thud of my pulse in my ears. I keep it slow for two breaths, trying to be decent, trying to not let the other part of me tear through the thin hold I have on him.Darko pushes. Mate. Mate.I lift my head an inch because I know what happens if I do not. Her eyes are wide, a little dazed. She looks at my mouth, then up like she is weighing something.She decides. She rises on her toes and kisses me first. No warning. No soft test. Her fingers curl in my shirt and pull like she owns me. The second kiss is hotter, messy at the edges, the kind that steals air and gives it back sweeter. I taste mint and the ghost of sugar. The room falls away. The vents hum. My hand finds the line of her spine, the warm dip of it, and I swear my palm learns her.I could drown here. I could let Darko break through and brand the truth he keeps chanting. Mine.She breaks it first. Not rejection. Shock. H
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA ~039: Light in my dark
CallaI’m back from the weekend and I tell myself I’m braced for the usual jocks, gossip, Sasha’s poisons. For forty-eight hours I managed to be invisible to all of it. Home was quiet in a way that felt like a bandage, even if it was the same old cracked paint and Aunt Mara’s sighs. I came back thinking a little distance would reset everything.Then I walk into the hallway and the universe laughs.Ronan is there before Blaire is. Of course he is. He’s leaning against a locker with his hands in his pockets, and the way he stands makes a dozen girls sigh somewhere around me even though I’m not looking."What the hell is wrong with all of them, he's not even that hot" I mutter to myself, but even my brain doubts that.He sees me, the half-smile tugs on his mouth, and for a beat his eyes go to mine with that nothing-you-can-do look he has. He walks past like he owns the corridor.I curl my fingers around the strap of my bag a little tighter. “At least he left me alone,” I tell the hallway
A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA ~038: Home sweet Home
CallaI don’t even know why I thought coming home would make things feel lighter.The bus ride from school was long and dusty, the kind of ride where your skin feels grimy before you even step off. My head is still buzzing with all the crap I left behind. My sneakers scuff against the uneven concrete path to the front door, the smell of damp soil and fried plantains clinging in the air. I half expect the place to feel smaller somehow, like maybe I’d outgrown it since the last time I was here. But no. It’s still the same weathered walls, the same squeaky front door, the same slow hum of the ceiling fan somewhere inside.I push the door open without knocking, because who knocks on their own house — and the hinges scrape so loud it makes my teeth itch.Grandma’s lying in her room, the one by the window. The curtains are drawn halfway, letting in a stripe of pale light that cuts across her bed. She looks smaller than I remember, her skin paper-thin, the shape of her bones pressing against
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