Chapter 3

I could feel my eyes drying from staring from my phone screen for too long. Everything is a mess. I do not know why this year started like it is already in the middle of the year, when it is just the first day only!

A lot happened in a day, today. And I do not want to talk about it, but I am pretty sure, tomorrow, when I go and step on to that university, everyone will talk about me.

“Holy shit! That’s embarassing.”

A voice coming out from my phone said.

Me, bumping to Hudson is spreading all over the school page, the school freedom wall, everything where people from my school can see. And it is embarrassing. I know that I am used to being targeted and being bullied before, but this kind of humiliation is my downfall…

And if you think this is the only problem I am thinking tonight, no. You are wrong.

Nathan still have a video of me, sniffing Michael’s shirt, and that video, would be the reason why I will not graduate in that school, because I know I will left even before it spread.

And speaking of shirt.

"Ugh."

I groaned aloud, tossing my phone onto the mattress. I forced my exhausted, aching body out of bed and dragged my feet over to my backpack. Unzipping the heavy canvas, I reached past my textbooks and pulled out Michael's coffee-stained shirt.

As I held the white fabric in my hands under the dim light of my bedroom, my mind traitorously drifted back to the classroom. Against my will, the image of Michael standing half-naked right in front of me flashed vividly in my mind. I could still clearly picture the extreme, rigid definition of his six-pack abs, the broad, powerful cut of his shoulders, and the dangerous heat radiating from his sun-kissed skin. He looked like an apex predator, and I had been close enough to feel the warmth of his breath. Even now, standing alone in the dark, the memory made my face flush bright red.

I brought the collar slightly closer to my face, and even with the dried coffee, that intoxicating scent of luxury, a fresh cedarwood, expensive cologne, and crisp winter air that lingered faintly on the threads. It was a smell that belonged to someone who ruled the world, completely different from a nobody like me.

But the brief rush of heat in my chest was instantly crushed by a cold wave of pure terror.

My grip tightened on the fabric until my knuckles turned white. What if Nathan posted it tonight while I was asleep? What if Michael saw it? The captain already looked like he wanted to murder me just for spilling coffee on him. If he found out I had been secretly sniffing his clothes like a total freak, he would make my life a living hell. The casual bullying from Nathan was one thing, but Michael was a completely different beast, he is a force of nature that could crush me without a second thought.

Anxiety clawed at my throat as I crept out of my room and walked down the quiet hallway toward the laundry room. The house was dead silent, making the thumping of my heart sound incredibly loud. I opened the door to the small room and flipped on the harsh overhead light, winnowing under its glare.

I approached the washing machine and lifted the lid. I hesitated for a second, looking down at the dark, ugly stain ruining the pristine white fabric. I knew a normal wash cycle wouldn't be enough for a deep coffee stain. I grabbed a bottle of heavy-duty stain remover from the shelf, spraying it aggressively onto the chest area, rubbing the fabric together until it began to lather. I needed this shirt to be absolutely perfect, purely clean and white, just like he demanded.

With a shaky breath, I tossed the damp shirt into the drum of the washing machine, measuring out the detergent with precise care. I shut the lid, set the dial to a delicate cycle, and hit the start button. The machine groaned to life, the sound of rushing water filling the small room, echoing the chaotic, racing thoughts inside my head. As the water began to swirl, I could only lean against the machine, staring blindly at the lid and praying to whatever universe was listening that Nathan's video would never see the light of day.

The washing machine hummed, filling the small laundry room with a rhythmic, mechanical drone. It was the only sound in the house, which made the sudden, deep voice behind me feel like a gunshot.

“For a first day, you seemed so stressed out already.”

“FUCK!”

I spun around so fast my heel gripped the slippery tile, my heart slamming violently against my ribs. My soul felt like it had completely left my body.

Standing casually in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, was the very person currently ruining my life on social media. He had thick, effortlessly styled hair falling across his forehead, a sharply sculpted jawline, and those piercing, cool eyes that looked exactly like they did on television. He was wearing a comfortable designer hoodie and athletic joggers, looking completely relaxed.

It was Hudson Monette.

The famous, star hockey player of Team America. The illegitimate son of the legendary Hillary Monette. To the entire world, he was a sports prodigy. But to me?

He is my stepbrother.

And we lived under the exact same roof. Nobody at Fiat Locke Academy had any idea we were related, let alone stepbrothers sharing a house. But we are not actually blood related, just paper related I guess? My dad needs a son to carry on his legacy.

To the school, I was just Niel, the invisible nerd. To the media, Hudson was the illegitimate child of the superstar hockey player, Hillary Monnete carrying a legacy. With the legitimate son’s identity unknown. We kept it that way.

My love for sport died the day he also died…

"What... what the hell are you doing in the laundry room?" I gasped, my hand still clutching my chest as I tried to force my heart back down into my throat.

Hudson let out a soft, mocking chuckle, his eyes drifting over to the vibrating washing machine before locking back onto me with a sarcastic glint. "We live under the same roof, Niel. Am I not allowed to be in the laundry room of my own house?"

I bit the inside of my cheek, glare heating up behind my thick glasses. "You know what I mean. When are you even back from training? And more importantly..." I whipped out my phone, flashing the paused video of our morning collision at his face. "Why did you have to come to my school today? Because of you, I am literally trending on the freedom wall! It's completely embarrassing!"

Hudson didn't even flinch. He just tilted his head, a smug, highly irritating smirk playing on his sharp lips.

"Me? Making you embarrassed?" Hudson asked, his voice dripping with pure sarcasm. He took a slow, deliberate step into the laundry room, his tall, athletic frame completely dominating the small space. "Correct me if I'm wrong, little brother, but I'm pretty sure I was just walking down the hall. You were the one who blindly ran full-speed into me like a broken Zamboni. I actually saved you from eating the floor."

"I was chasing Nathan!" I shot back, keeping my voice down so we wouldn't wake anyone else up, though my tone was bursting with frustration. "If you hadn't been there, standing in the middle of the hallway like a giant wall, I would've caught him!"

"Right. Because you totally look like you had the situation under control," Hudson replied, his sarcasm cutting right through my defenses. His eyes dropped to my hands, which were still slightly shaking. The teasing smirk left his face, replaced by a more serious, calculating look. "You're a mess, Niel. It's day one and you've already managed to tackle me in public and embarrass yourself..." He glanced at the washing machine again.

"I’m at your school because the Hockey National Association is looking for new players to be scouted from each university school who have hockey as their sports. A lucky three stuent to have a full scholarship and joing the NHA before the new season begins among all of those schools. And since Fiat is the number one school for Hockey, they wanted to look if one of the lucky three hockey players is at your school.” He explained while getting his newly dried clothes. “This offer will change hockey forever, this season.” He added.

So they are looking for scholars to play in NHA?

I am pretty sure one of that scholar is Michael.

“Hey dumbass. Make sure nobody at that school connects the dots between you and me. I don't need your school drama bleeding into my career."

Without waiting for me to reply, he turned around and walked out of the laundry room, his footsteps fading down the dark hallway.

I stood there completely frozen, leaning my weight against the humming washing machine. Re thinking about my whole life, and my whole new life that will start tomorrow.