Mag-log inBeing in a fake relationship with a hockey player. I must be sick. No! I must have hit my head somewhere. Clara had no choice but to agree to be in a fake relationship just to protect her secret from being exposed. She doesn't know what everyone was going to think of her after her work “The holy stripper” was being revealed as the author backed by her crush on her step brother. Clara makes the rules, no kissing, no sex and no feelings but what happens when she breaks the rules? She doesn't just despise the gut of the guy she hates so much on campus instead she has butterflies for him. What happens when the hot hockey player who everyone wants, gets into a relationship with a nobody on campus? Jealousy! Hatred! For the girls who have a crush on him, will Clara's secret be revealed or will a frustrated girl still dig in to find out why the popular star hockey player ditch her for Clara? Find out more!
view moreClara
I never thought my biggest humiliation would happen twice in one day first from my high school bully then the guy I hated so much on campus.
“You should have kicked his ass. I just hate his gut” I voiced out to my 6 foot 4 inch step brother who towered over me and he did that which I hate so much.
It makes me feel five and smaller but I don't mind anything to make him touch me. That is the least I could get at least for now.
His chin burned with a smile.
“Is okay there will always be a next time”
“But..” I couldn't finish my sentence when he walked away, I stared at him clutching my paperwork to my chest watching my head go flip off.
“What are you doing here?” I jerked hearing a muscular voice behind me.
Panicked, I must have been caught drooling on my step brother. Now conscious I was standing in the hallway at the males locker room.
I shouldn't be here. I turned only to see him dripping wet from his head. His hair set in turns that makes my core constrict so painful.
His arbs,
He’s muscles.
Gosh! What is wrong with me? I didn't realize I was biting down on my lower lip when he cleared his throat, regaining my self consciously the paper work on my hand flipped and scattered all over the ground.
My smut, the one I have written because of my step brother.
He bent down picked up a paper and read it out and that was when I realized I have been fucked.
I placed a hand over my mouth standing In Front of the guy I hate so much. Because he is in competition with my step brother, stealing all the spotlight from him. I can't remember how many times I cursed him so much and lastly he is the bad guy every girl wants on campus.
And rumor has it he changes girls like he changes his tissue paper. Like I'm terribly mad at him for his gut.
“What! What are you? Crushing on your step brother?” He paused, then read out loud again.
“I can't believe how my heart melted the moment he flipped the hockey stick. Gosh! I'm about to have an orgasm”
He looked up to me with disgust. I lowered my head to the ground and my cheek burned with so much embarrassment. I prayed the ground should open or I could have a magical ability to disappear but none of that came.
“Hey…is not what you think” I stammered, unable to admit it myself. It felt so disgusting to know that I was crushing on my step brother and I got off the hook by writing smut and fantasy the way I wanted him to touch me.
Silly stupid things.
He laughed then turned to look at me and I was looking everywhere except for his face. I could feel his burning gaze at me and my heart couldn't stop beating so fast.
Was it because I was caught?
“You like your step brother”
I couldn't say a yes, which is admitting to it neither could I say a no pretty obvious my description was pointing to Celeb.
Oh gosh! I should have believed my intuition to keep the paperwork behind but I was so stubborn I thought after the game I would go somewhere quiet to complete the story, arrange it and have someone do the editing but I got into more trouble than I could have ever thought of.
The guy I hate so much on campus now knows my secret of crushing on my step brother.
It wouldn't get worse than this.
“Your secret is safe with me” another relief washed through me and I looked up to his face this time, his chin was lifted up and he was giving me those fake smiles.
Another relief washed through me when I looked sideways but there wasn't anyone. It was just the both of us.
Act tough Clara, he must want something in return to keep your secret. Obviously we weren't friends and I guess he must have known how I despised him so much but I was at his mercy now.
I don't know if I was going to survive it when everyone on campus got to know my dirty little secret.
I looked up to him like my savior, touching his hard chest and his face changed to Caleb.
“Clara I know you're my step sister but I have something to tell you. I'm in love with you” I shifted on one foot, I have long awaited to hear that then he tried to kiss me when a voice brought me back.
“Hello” he clicked his finger.
“You're fantasizing about him again or me”
“Damn, not even in my nightmare” I cursed caught for the second time daydreaming about my step brother kissing me.
“I never said that” I was nervous, literally shaking. I didn't know what to expect.
The worst or the best.
He stared at the paper which he had picked up and read aloud.
“You must be the author of the “Holy Stripper”
Oh no! I panicked, he knows my pen name and my book.
“Don't you dare tell anyone” I tried to be tough even though my voice gave me away not as tough as I expected.
“Are you threatening me?”
“No” he smiled mischievous, sensing how scared I was.
“Then let's have a deal. Your secret remains with me but in return you have to do something for me” he paused as his eyes walked down my body.
I could be described as not attractive. Never had a boyfriend before nor has anyone flirted with me before. But as his eyes burned down my body I felt finally someone sees me attractive but not from someone I hate and despise so much.
He said some couple of things which I wasn't listening to. He drew closer holding my shoulder.
“You have to make it up to me” his closeness made it difficult for me to breathe. Why do I feel this way?
ROWAN Saturday sunlight filtered through the blinds like a promise. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed quiet mornings until this one — no chaos, no rumors, no meetings at the head teacher’s office. Just peace. And Clara.It had been months since everything fell apart and came back together again. The MVP game, the apologies, the gradual healing. Life felt... lighter now. Maybe because I’d stopped carrying guilt that was never mine to bear. Or maybe because, somewhere along the way, I learned that forgiveness could set you free.I was meeting Clara today — she’d said yes when I asked if we could talk. My hands shouldn’t have been trembling, but they were. I’d faced crowds chanting my name, stood beneath stadium lights, yet somehow, facing Clara was the one thing that made me nervous.The café where we met was quiet, tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop. She was already there when I walked in, wearing a cream sweater and light jeans, a notebook beside her half-finished cup o
CLARASome mornings, I still wake up and forget who I am now. For a few seconds, I expect to hear my alarm blaring, my mom calling from the kitchen, and the sound of Caleb’s car leaving for school. But instead, it’s the quiet hum of my dorm room, the soft ping of new notifications lighting up my phone, and the faint morning breeze brushing against my curtains.I stretch and roll over, squinting at the screen. Messages, emails, mentions. All for me.“Hi Clara, your words saved me.”“Thank you for helping me love myself again.”“You’re the reason I stopped hiding.”I smile before I can stop myself. Sometimes it still feels unreal — that people know my name, that they see me. A few months ago, I was just another girl with her head down, writing in secret because I was too afraid to be seen. Now, Curves and Courage isn’t just a magazine anymore. It’s a movement.I started it as a safe space for fat girls like me — for anyone who had ever been told they were “too much” or “not enough.” Ba
ROWANThe morning sunlight sliced through my blinds, landing squarely on my face, waking me earlier than I expected. I groaned, shifting under the sheets, but something heavier than sleep weighed on me. The MVP competition. Today wasn’t just any game—it was the culmination of weeks, months, maybe even a lifetime of pushing myself, recovering from suspension, and trying to regain footing after everything that had happened. My pulse picked up as I thought about it.I sat on the edge of my bed, letting my hands fall to my knees, staring at the floor. Two weeks ago, I would have been curled in a ball, uncertain, terrified of what awaited me if I stepped onto the field. But now… now I had purpose, a reason beyond personal glory. And that reason had a name: Clara.Clara.I had replayed her expressions in my mind countless times. The day I returned from suspension, the way her eyes lingered on me, a mixture of concern and caution. How she had encouraged me without pushing too hard, giving
AARONI haven’t left my room in hours, not that I have anywhere to go. The world outside seems louder than it has any right to be, but in here, everything feels suffocatingly still. Of course, I could hear the faint hum of the ceiling fan spinning lazily above me, the distant muffled laughter of students passing the windows down the street, and the soft creaks of the house settling. Each sound reminds me of how fragile my situation has become, how easily everything I’ve done could unravel and leave me exposed.I lean back against my chair, staring at the wall, trying to make sense of it all. Every memory of the past few days gnaws at me. The gathering where Clara revealed everything, the look on her face when I confessed—her shock, her hurt, the way she had trembled slightly, unable to mask the tears threatening to fall. That moment replays endlessly in my mind, a haunting loop I cannot stop. I thought I had control, thought I could manipulate a situation to my advantage, and yet her


















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