Cold Hearted Captain: Trapped In His Game Of Love

Aria.

The library is my sanctuary. Tucked away in my corner booth by the tall windows, I can watch the world of Silverridge Academy pass by without anyone noticing me. Students rush past with their designer bags and perfect smiles, their laughter echoing through the marble halls like music I've never learned to play.

"Another thrilling Friday night planned, I see," I whispered to myself, adjusting my thick-rimmed glasses as I highlight another passage in my Advanced Literature textbook. The yellow marker has become my best friend over the years, reliable, quiet, and never judgmental.

I've perfected the art of being invisible. I sit in the back row of every class, never raise my hand unless directly called upon, and eat lunch alone while buried in whatever book can transport me far away from this place. It's easier this way. Safer too.

"Aria Vale." I practice saying my own name sometimes, just to remember what it sounds like. Most days, I wonder if I disappeared entirely, would anyone even notice?

The heavy library doors slam open, making me jump. A group of hockey players stride in like they own the place, their letterman jackets catching the afternoon light, making my stomach to drop. They never come to the library and I wonder they are here.

"Bro, I'm telling you, Coach Martinez is losing his mind over the championship," one of them says, his voice carrying across the usually silent space.

I sink lower in my seat, hoping they'll just grab whatever they need and leave. But then I see him.

Jace Storm.

Even his name sounds like trouble. He transferred here three weeks ago, and already the entire school worships the ground he walks on. Dark hair that falls perfectly across his forehead, green eyes that seem to see everything, and a smile that makes girls forget their own names. But there's something else about him, something that makes me want to look away and stare at the same time.

"Where's the stupid American History section?" Jace's voice cuts through my thoughts. He's standing near the reference desk, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Mrs. Chen, the librarian, points toward the back corner. "Aisle seven, dear."

That's my aisle. My heart starts hammering against my ribs.

I watch as he walks over, his friends following like loyal puppies. I try to focus on my textbook, but the words blur together. Maybe if I stay perfectly still, they won't see me.

"God, this place smells like old people and disappointment," one of his friends, Tyler, says loudly.

"Shut up, man. I need to find this book or Coach will bench me," Jace mutters, scanning the shelves.

I know I should help. I've memorized every section of this library. I could tell him exactly where to find whatever he's looking for. But my tongue feels glued to the roof of my mouth.

"Excuse me."

The voice is right next to me. I look up to find Jace Storm standing beside my table, and my world tilts sideways. Up close, he's even more devastating. But his green eyes are cold, impatient.

"Do you work here or something?" he asks.

"I... no, I'm just…"

"Then why are you staring at me like a creep?"

The words hit me like a physical blow. Heat floods my cheeks, and I can feel every pair of eyes in the library turning toward us.

"I wasn't staring," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "I was just…"

"Just what? Planning to ask for autograph?" His friends snicker behind him. "Look, I get it. New guy, hockey captain, whatever. But I'm not interested in charity cases."

Charity case. The words echoed in my head, each repetition cutting deeper.

"I was trying to read," I managed to say, my voice shaking.

"In the history section? Right." He leans closer, and I can smell his cologne, expensive, confident. Everything I'm not. "Let me guess. You're one of those girls who thinks if she hangs around long enough, maybe the popular guy will notice her?"

"No, I..."

"Well, congratulations. I noticed. And here's some free advice find someone in your own league."

His friends burst into laughter. The sound is like glass breaking inside my chest.

I want to disappear. I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole. Instead, I stand up on shaking legs, gathering my books against my chest like armor.

"Sorry," I whisper, though I don't know what I'm apologizing for.

"Yeah, you should be," Jace says dismissively, already turning away.

I walk toward the exit on unsteady feet, my vision blurring with unshed tears. Behind me, I hear Tyler say, "Dude, that was harsh, even for you."

"Whatever. She'll get over it," Jace replies, his voice carrying that same cold indifference.

I'm almost to the doors when I hear him again, louder this time.

"I mean, seriously, did you see the way she was staring? Like a lost puppy or something. These desperate girls are all the same."

I frooze, turning around slightly.

"I felt embarrassed for her," he continued, and his friends laughed again. "Some people really need to learn their place, you know?"

Something inside me snaps. Not breaks snaps. Like a rubber band stretched too far.

I clench my fist so tight my nails dig into my palm. The pain grounds me, gives me something to focus on besides the humiliation burning through my veins.

"One day," I whisper, so quietly only I can hear it.

One day, Jace Storm will regret underestimating the invisible girl. Not like I have any super power, but I know he was definitely going to regret this.