009

Dona's POV

I sat on the cold bleachers with my hoodie pulled tight around me, trying to block out the noise of skates cutting into ice. August was out there with his team and I was pretending not to watch him too closely. My phone was in my lap, but I wasn’t scrolling. The screen was black. My ears caught everything, though, and that’s when I heard it.

“Florida State’s team is a joke,” a voice came behind me, dripping arrogance. “No way Reynolds can carry them. The guy thinks he’s hot shit ‘cause he transferred from Chicago.”

I turned my head and saw a cluster of tall guys in matching jackets, sitting behind me on the bleachers. Keiser University, embroidered in ugly gold letters. And right in the center was Everett Whyte, the captain himself, with blond hair and a perfect posture, like he thought he was a walking ad for hockey.

I rolled my eyes but stayed quiet, hoping they’d leave. They didn’t.

“Honestly,” Everett went on, “if this is the competition we’re up against this season, we’ll wipe the ice with them. Maybe Reynolds should’ve stayed in Chicago. Less embarrassing.”

His friends chuckled like backup singers.

That was it. I stood up with my hands shoved in my pockets. “Wow!" I said loud enough for the whole rink to hear. “Didn’t know Keiser trained their boys to gossip like high school cheerleaders. That's cute.”

Their laughter cut short immediately. Everett’s head snapped toward me. "Who are you again?”

“Does it matter?" I walked closer to them and stopped just a few feet short. Up close, Everett looked even uglier. “You came all the way here just to run your mouth? What, Keiser doesn’t have practice today, so you decided to rehearse your insults instead?”

One of the boys muttered, “Damn,” under his breath, but Everett wasn’t amused. He narrowed his already tiny eyes even further. “Again, who even are you? One of their little tagalongs?”

I crossed my arms. “Better a tagalong than a wannabe captain who needs an audience to feel important. Shouldn’t you be focusing on your own team instead of drooling over ours?”

The guy beside Everett snorted, then tried to hide it. Everett shot him a death glare before snapping back at me. “You are not funny."

“Funnier than you, at least. And let me guess, you thought you’d waltz in here, talk trash, maybe scare Reynolds off? Hate to break it to you, but he’s not the one looking like a desperate clown right now.”

"Fuck off!"

"Language, Whyte!" One of his teammates called out.

“Oh, please!” I stepped up another bleacher so I was closer. “What’s your next move? Are you gonna fight me? Are you gonna beat up a girl? Is that how Keiser’s captain handles pressure?”

His face went red and his boys shuffled awkwardly, some whispering, some looking ready to drag him out. He glared at me again, spun on his heel and stormed toward the exit. His crew scrambled after him, tripping over each other like idiots.

“Didn’t think so.” I turned back to my seat

Out on the ice, I caught August looking my way, one eyebrow raised like he’d seen the whole thing. My cheeks heated instantly but I folded my arms and stared at the rink like I didn’t care.

Inside though? I was buzzing with anger. Everett Whyte could choke.

Practice wrapped and I slipped out of the rink before August could catch me staring again. I tucked my hands into my hoodie pockets to warm myself. People were still milling around, a few girls whispering as they glanced between me and the building, and I knew exactly what... or who.... they were whispering about.

August Reynolds, my stepbrother. The new campus obsession.

He walked out a few minutes later, laughing with a group of guys from the team. The way he carried himself only added fuel to the fire. And of course, the girls on the sidelines ate it up. I rolled my eyes, hugging my backpack tighter.

I leaned against his car, deciding to wait there instead of standing around like some forgotten puppy. But before I could pull out my phone, a shadow blocked the sun.

“Fancy seeing you here."

I looked up. "Great! Caleb!"

Caleb was tall, with broad shoulders filling out his jersey. His skin was a warm brown and his cornrows were pulled tight back from his face, and his mouth was busy chewing gum, loud enough I could hear the pops between words. There was a permanent half-grin plastered on his face as if the world was one big inside joke.

Of course. Caleb Carter. Hockey’s golden boy after August.

I shifted my weight but didn’t bother to straighten up. “It’s a hockey rink, Caleb. Kind of normal to see me here, don’t you think?”

He chuckled, tilting his head like I was amusing him. “True. But hanging around Reynolds’ car? That’s new.”

I folded my arms. “Maybe I just like where it’s parked.”

“Uh-huh.” He leaned on the car next to me, gum snapping between his teeth. “So tell me, how’s it feel hanging with the spoiled transfer? I bet it’s exhausting, him stomping around like he’s a savior.”

I wasn’t clueless about what this was really about. Caleb had been the hockey team’s golden boy before August transferred in and took the spotlight. He used that captain’s badge like a backstage pass to every girl on campus: well, every girl except me. He’d been circling me since my freshman year, back when he was a smug sophomore. And now, catching me step out of August’s car must have lit up whatever primitive instinct he runs on.

I narrowed my eyes. “You mean August?”

“Who else?” Caleb stretched like he had all the time in the world. “That kid walks in here with his daddy’s money, thinks he can take over. Real original. I’ve been running this team for years. Reynolds is overrated.”

I gave him a long look. “Funny. Everyone inside seemed to respect him just fine.”

His grin faded but came back quick. “Respect or hype? There’s a difference. Look, I’m just saying that guys like him are bad news. They burn out fast and drag their teammates down with them. You don’t want to get caught up in that.”

Ah. There it was. The warning dressed up as concern.

I raised an eyebrow. “Why do you care what happens to me?”

He shrugged, gum snapping again. “Because unlike him, I actually know what I’m doing. I’m steady and I don’t flake. And maybe you’d be better off with someone who doesn’t think the sun rises and sets with his own ego.”

Piper. I could practically hear her whispering in my ear: Caleb is normal, Dona. Caleb is safe.

I bit back a laugh, shaking my head. “So this is your big pitch? You being the ‘safe option’?”

He leaned so close that I saw every individual hair in his nostril. “Safe doesn’t sound so bad when the alternative is trouble. I'm safe, Dona.”

I pushed off the car, glaring at him. “I can handle my own trouble, thanks.”

For a second, something angry flashed in his eyes. Then he plastered on his grin again, like he hadn’t been rattled at all.

“Suit yourself.” He grunted.

“Suit what?”

We both turned. August had finally wandered over with his bag over his shoulder. He looked from Caleb to me, then back to Caleb.

“Nothing, Captain." Caleb answered smoothly, flashing a too-bright grin. “Just catching up.”

August stared at him for a long second, then opened the driver’s side door without a word. Caleb patted the hood of the car then strutted off, shoulders swinging and gum still popping.

I almost laughed. The whole performance was ridiculous. How the hell did someone this dumb become the captain of FSU's hockey team?

As I slid into the passenger seat, Piper’s voice replayed in my head: Caleb is actually normal. He studies Computer Engineering like us.

Normal. Right. If that was Piper’s version of normal, then God help us all.

The second I buckled into the seat, August cut me a sideways look. “What’s so funny?”

I froze, realizing I’d let out a little laugh thinking about Piper and her version of “normal Caleb.” I shook my head quickly. “Nothing.”

He leaned back in his seat, engine rumbling as he started the car. “Didn’t sound like nothing.”

“Mind your business!” I snapped before I could stop myself.

He grunted, but he didn’t press. Good. If he had, I might’ve launched myself out of the moving car just to get away.

The drive home was unusually silent. By the time we walked into the house, I could feel my patience thinning again. Our shoes barely hit the entryway before he muttered something under his breath.

“What?” I turned on him.

“I didn’t say anything,” he replied, tossing his bag onto the couch.

“You muttered something,” I shot back.

He looked at me with those cold eyes of his, then shrugged. “Maybe I was talking to myself. You’re not the center of the universe, Dona.”

My mouth fell open. “Wow. You really—”

“Kids!” my mom’s voice rang out from the kitchen, and I stopped myself mid-snap. She came bustling in with her apron still tied around her waist, hair a little messy like she’d been rushing dinner.

“You’re home! Good. Now, Dona, sweetheart...” she gave me that look, the one that always came right before she asked something I’d hate. “Maybe you can show August around tomorrow, since it's a Saturday? He’s still new to FSU, and you know all the good spots.”

I swear, my heart actually dropped into my stomach. “What?”

“It’d be nice!” she said cheerfully, completely oblivious to the flames she’d just thrown on the fire. “You two could spend some time together.”

"Mom. No. Absolutely not. You already ruined today, please don't ruin tomorrow.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

"Yeah, why not, Dona?" August chimed in with a smile of mockery on his face.

“Because—” I threw a hand toward August, who was staring at us, looking way too entertained. “Because it’s him!”

My mom sighed. “He’s family now, Dona. You don’t have to be so dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic, I’m being sane!” I snapped.

“I think it sounds like a great idea, stepsister!" August added.

The way he said stepsister made me flare up again. “Stay out of it!”

“Just agreeing with your mom,” he said smoothly.

I could almost feel steam rising out of my ears. My mom clapped her hands, completely ignoring our snapping. “Perfect. It’s settled. Now wash up for dinner.”

Perfect? She had no idea she’d just signed me up for hell.

At dinner, the three of us sat at the table. The food smelled good but my appetite was gone. I noticed right away Peter wasn’t in his seat.

“Where’s Peter?” I asked.

“Out.” Mom said quickly, waving her fork like it wasn’t important. “Late meeting.”

I didn’t ask more. Honestly, it was better this way. Peter and August together at dinner would’ve been a grenade waiting to go off.

But that didn’t mean dinner was easy. Every time August reached for the mashed potatoes or clinked his glass against his plate, I felt myself flinch. And every time I told myself to ignore him, my chest just burned hotter.

Because the truth was ugly: I hated myself for wanting the one person who guaranteed nothing but chaos in my life.

And worse was that he was my stepbrother.

Double weird. Double wrong. So why couldn’t I stop?