Chapter 6

Ledger's POV

“We're here.”

Cassie said nothing as she got off the bike. Rather, she focused on roaming her eyes over her surroundings. I had brought her to the edge of Grenfell's Mountain. Below us, we could see the city stretched out.

“Where have you brought me to?” Cassie asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice. 

I grinned, having expected her question. “I'm so glad you asked.” I admitted, pausing for dramatic effect. “This is my favourite spot. You can see everything from up here.”

“Okay…” Was all she said, drawing out the word. “Why have you brought me here?”

The nonchalant tone in her voice almost made me second guess everything. But I could not shake the image of her face after the cheating incident. That wrecked, gut punched look she had worn stayed with me.

Asides that, I couldn't get the previous night out of my mind. And the night before? I wanted a repeat of it. Perhaps sober, this time.

“I told you…” I began, answering the question she had poised, “this is my favourite spot. I wanted to show it to you.” 

Cassie frowned. The action doing nothing to mar her beautiful features. “But, why?”

I huffed, unable to stop myself from getting irritated. “Ok, I get that Otto did a trash job of being your boyfriend, so maybe you missed the memo. Usually, when a guy takes his pretty girl to his favourite spot, it's usually so she can get to know him better.” I explained.

“I'm not your girl.” She shot back, crossing her arms across her belly. 

I smirked. “Well, not yet, you aren't? But that can be arranged.” 

Cassie didn't seem to like that. “You're an ass. This was a waste of time, and I'm leaving.” She meant it too. She spun around and started walking off.

Crap. This wasn't the plan. “Wait. Wait, wait.” I called out urgently, jogging to block her path. She stopped a few steps away from me. A large part of me wanted to close the distance, but I held back. She had just gotten her heart broken by a guy and probably wasn't in a hurry to date another. “I have a proposal to make.”

This seemed to pique her interest. She raised a brow but said nothing. I continued, “I can help you get back at Otto.”

“And how do you plan on helping me do that?”

“Enter into a relationship with me.” There, I said it. 

Her eyes widened. “What?”

I had already started to run a hand through my hair before catching myself. Was I nervous? Me? That was new.

I decided to opt for shoving my hands into my pocket. “It would be just for the sake of keeping up appearances. We already acted like a couple in his presence, and I'm pretty sure the gossips were listening. The rumours will be all over campus by morning.”

“So, your solution to that is to get into a fake relationship with you?” She asked, her tone dubious. “This is not a high school novel from W*****d, Ledge. It won't work.”

Wow, Cassie was more stubborn than expected. “First of all, those are actually pretty good. Secondly, I am the Captain of Snow Bears, and I play in the Centre position, and I'm a star player. He's the Left Defenseman and while he's good, coach always rotates the defensemen as a tactic.” 

“So?” She said, folding her arms again.

I scoffed. “Do not act clueless, Cassie. It does not suit you.” Her eyes narrowed. I rolled mine right back. “I am telling you to use me.”

“And what could you possibly want in return? What do you get from this?” She asked, shooting me a look filled with suspicion.

I had already prepared an answer for that. “An end to my reputation as a player.” I replied. “Coach says I need to get my shit together and be a model student on and off the ice for the scouts to consider me.”

It was not entirely true. Who I spent time with off the rink was not really their business. But Cassie did not need to know that.

She was already shaking her head. “I am not interested.”

“Cassie…”

“No.” She said adamantly.

“You will benefit more from this than any revenge plan you are cooking up,” I said, keeping pace with her as she walked away.

She did not reply.

“There will be rumors tomorrow.”

“I will deal with it.” That was when I stopped walking.

“At least let me drop you off,” I called out.

“I know my way out!” She retorted.

I sighed and watched as she disappeared.

***

Just like I predicted, the next day the rumors were everywhere. Apparently, Cassie Monroe was officially my girlfriend.

And, just like every other rumor around here, this one had picked up some nasty add-ons.

Some said Otto broke up with her after finding out she had been sneaking around with me. Others claimed she dumped him for the better player. A few people called her a clout chaser. Some called her worse—slut, even.

The damning part was that everyone seemed to believe that I would grow bored of her soon and move on to the next skirt soon enough. 

As I walked down the hallway, the stares followed me wherever I went. I was used to it. What I was not used to was people dragging Cassie into it.

“Has anyone seen Cassie Monroe?” I asked, scanning the corridor.

“I saw her in Professor Owen’s feature writing class,” someone said from behind me.

“Gracias.” I said, tipping my imaginary hat before heading in the direction of the class. 

A few minutes later, I spotted Professor Owens walking down the hall in the opposite direction. The corridor was soon filled with students pouring out of the lecture room.

I walked briskly, not wanting to miss Cassie.

“I honestly don't know what Otto and Ledger see in her. Sure, she's somewhat pretty, but she's not even in their league.” I heard a voice say, just as I stepped into the lecture room. “She's a nerd.” My gaze fell on the girl speaking. Skinny, smug, sitting between two wimps who laughed like her approval fed them.

“What an absolute load of bollocks,” I snapped, shooting her a look. “Do you even know what being in my league looks like? Remind me… what league are you in again? Oh right, the ‘bitter and basic’ division.”

That got a few snickers from around the room.

I kept my eyes on her. “How about you learn your place first, Regina?”

“M–my name’s Bailey,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

I smirked. “Oh, is it?”

Another round of laughter. They were practically paid actors at this point.

“What are you doing?” A familiar voice asked behind me.

I turned and whatever I had meant to say was forgotten. There she stood in a cropped plaid blazer over a fitted black tank and high-waisted jeans that hugged just right. Heeled ankle boots and gold hoops added polish, while her crossbody bag held a press pass and a pen always ready. She looked like fashion met fire, with facts to back it up.

I whistled appreciatively at the sight. “Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?” 

She rolled her eyes. “We need to talk.” She stated firmly. Without waiting for a response, she took my hand and began to pull me out of the room, leaving the murmurs behind us.