CHAPTER 2

Camille’s POV

My eyes were fixed on the road I was walking on, yet my mind wasn’t on the path I was meant to take.

Thea was already browsing through clothes, picking out items she liked, while Becca lingered at the bags section, carefully examining designer pieces and weighing her options like she always did.

I had called them out today because I needed to unwind.

Yet even here, surrounded by luxury and noise, Mr. Ashford words were still fresh in my head.

I was supposed to be angry and pissed off, I reminded myself.

I was supposed to be enraged.

After all, he had been rude. He had dismissed me simply because I had wanted to help. He had sent me out of his office like I was nothing.

And yet, instead of anger, my thoughts clung stubbornly to his voice. To the shiver it had sent down my spine and the unfamiliar tingles I hadn’t been prepared for.

“Oh my God, these collections are just so beautiful,” a voice gushed beside me.

I turned to see Becca admiring a new wave of bags, her eyes shining as she ran her fingers along the leather.

I followed her movement absently.

My assistant trailed quietly behind me, saying nothing but I didn’t want her to notice how distracted I was. She would ask questions and I wouldn’t know how to lie.

Anyone finding out that I had been embarrassed and sent out of an office earlier was the last thing I needed.

So I drifted toward the bags section, forcing myself to join my friends, hoping they wouldn’t notice that my mind was nowhere near the shopping spree I had dragged them into for the sake of my sanity.

A sudden voice snapped me out of my haze.

I lifted my head just in time to feel cold liquid spill down my front.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’m really sorry,” the receptionist stammered, struggling to steady the tray of juices Becca had ordered.

“It’s alright,” I managed to whisper.

After all, I had been part of the problem too.

My thoughts had been tangled in embarrassment and the echo of Mr. Ashford commanding voice. How could I blame her when I had walked straight into her?

Thea was beside me instantly, her expression tight with concern as she grabbed my arm and pulled me aside. She handed my shopping bags to my assistant without hesitation and guided me toward the restroom.

Thea was my best friend, closer than Becca was. So I didn’t resist her. I just let her lead me away.

Becca didn’t follow, and I wasn’t surprised. We were friends, yes, but not close enough for her to pry.

The moment we stepped into the bathroom, Thea shut the door behind us and turned to me.

“Gosh, Camille, you look like a mess,” she whispered, pulling out a shirt from her bag and handing it to me.

I stared at her in surprise.

She caught my look and smirked slightly. “I’m a cheerleader, Camille. Of course I keep replacements. I have to look good at all times.”

I nodded silently as I changed into the clean shirt, my movements slow, with my thoughts still distant.

Something about today had shaken me more than I wanted to admit.

“I heard the coach left the school,” Thea said casually as she leaned against the sink. “Did you see the news too?”

Thea asked, and I shook my head in the negative.

I hadn’t heard anything of that sort.

Perhaps it was because my mind had been too busy replaying how cold Mr. Ashford had been to me and how I hadn’t simply shrugged it off and gone on with my life the way I normally would.

Thea opened her mouth to respond, but her phone suddenly lit up in her hand. A soft giggle escaped her lips as she read the message and began typing back.

It was obvious who it was from.

Her boyfriend.

I turned back to adjusting the shirt I was wearing on my own. She had been helping me earlier before the message popped up. The brushes she had brought out to help me fix my hair were still lying on the counter.

In the end, I was doing everything by myself.

I told myself I didn’t feel anything. This was her boyfriend, of course, someone she was meant to give her attention to. Still, I couldn’t stop the flicker of jealousy that crept in, fueled by the memory of Julian’s absentminded cruelty earlier.

Just proof of how badly a single day could spiral, I whispered to myself.

“How are you and Julian , Camille?” Thea suddenly asked, her tone light as she slipped her phone back into her bag. “Not gonna lie, I was surprised when you texted us to go shopping. You usually do all this with him.”

My chest tightened.

“Did the coach really leave the school?” I asked quickly, forcing the words out before she could press further.

Julian was a topic I couldn’t afford to touch. I couldn’t risk them finding out what had happened, not when I knew how fast gossip traveled around campus.

“Of course, Camille. Didn’t you hear?” Thea replied. “Some students are saying he resigned because of what the dean did. I wonder how they’ll behave toward you if we don’t find a replacement soon. I can’t imagine the team not having a coach with the hockey tournament so close.”

“The dean?” I echoed quietly.

She nodded.

I stared at her, my thoughts spiraling as I wondered what my father could have done to push the coach into resigning. I didn’t need anyone telling me how the students would react if this was true.

They would blame me, they always did. Thea mentioning my father alone was proof enough that the blame was already being shared and by extension, so was I.

“There’s a rumor that the new teacher was once a number-one hockey legend,” Thea continued. “But he stopped playing.”

I swallowed hard.

Why was she mentioning Mr. Ashford?

“Yes, Camille,” Becca added suddenly as she walked into the bathroom, her presence abrupt. “It’s part of the rumors going around. They say Mr. Ashford was a hockey legend who faded. Getting him to coach the team would be the best decision you could make to save both your reputation and your father’s.”

A lump formed in my throat.

This wasn’t the first time a coach had resigned from the school. And every single time, my father was blamed and I was dragged into it as his daughter.

Finding a qualified replacement was never easy. With the tournament around the corner, it felt nearly impossible.

A coach wasn’t optional.

“Becca is right, Camille,” Thea added gently. “You need to get him to agree to coach the team. That’s the only solution to this problem.”

I stood motionless, staring at both of them as their words sank in.

My thoughts, however, were elsewhere.

Why, of all days had I been marked to cross paths with someone like Mr. Ashford more than once?