LOGINIvy
The dorm room was a mess of clothes and excitement when I got back from the library. Lena stood in front of the mirror, trying on different tops and humming to herself. “Where are you heading?” I asked, dropping my bag on my bed. “Sophomore party tonight at the old fraternity house off campus,” she said brightly. “It’s supposed to be fun — music, decent drinks, no freshmen rules. You should come with me.” I hesitated. The photos. Asher’s stupid deadline. The six hundred shots still waiting on my laptop. But the thought of sitting alone in this room, obsessing over his pictures and replaying every humiliating moment, felt worse. “Can I come?” I asked. Lena’s face lit up. “Yes! But what about the pictures you’re supposed to send Asher?” I shrugged. “They can wait till tomorrow. I need a break.” She didn’t argue. Twenty minutes later we were walking across campus toward the pulsing bass of the party. Inside, the house was crowded and warm, lights low, music loud. Lena stuck with me at first, introducing me to a few people and encouraging me to loosen up. “You’re a freshman, but don’t let anyone catch on. Just smile and dance like you belong.” After a while, she squeezed my arm. “My friends from last year are over there. I’ll come check on you in a bit, okay? Have fun!” And then she was gone, disappearing into the crowd. I stood near the edge of the main room, nursing a cup of soda, feeling out of place. A few minutes later, a guy with an easy smile and a backward cap approached. “Hey, you look like you could use some company. First time at one of these?” I wasn’t particularly interested at first, but he persisted, friendly and relaxed. Eventually I replied. He introduced himself as Marcus, a sophomore in sports. I gave him my name. He offered to get me a real drink. I refused at first. “Come on, just one. It’s nothing crazy,” he said with a grin. “Helps with the nerves.” I thought of Lena’s advice about not seeming like a scared freshman. This was my fresh start. One drink wouldn’t hurt. I took it. The taste was awful — bitter and sharp — but I hid the grimace behind a small smile. It was my first time drinking alcohol. I sipped slowly while we talked about classes, campus life, and nothing too deep. Marcus did most of the talking. He was funny, chill, completely unlike Asher’s cold intensity. He noticed my cup getting low. “Here, have a little more. Lena actually sent me over earlier to keep you company. You’re in safe hands, I promise.” I glanced across the room and saw Lena watching us. She waved with a big smile. I relaxed a little and took another sip. The warmth spreading through me made everything feel softer, lighter. Marcus really was nice. Easy to talk to. Then the air shifted. Asher walked in. He scanned the room and stopped the moment he saw me. Surprise flashed across his face, quickly replaced by that familiar smirk. He crossed the room, ignoring everyone else. “Well, well. Look who’s suddenly into parties now.” I lifted my chin. “Whatever I choose to do with my life is none of your business, Asher.” He shrugged. “Fair enough. Where are the pictures?” “They’re not ready,” I said flatly. “You’ll get them tomorrow.” Asher scoffed. “You really thought I was joking about the end of today?” I didn’t answer. The alcohol made me feel bolder than I probably should have. Marcus glanced between us. “You know this guy?” “No,” I said quickly. “Can we go somewhere else?” Marcus nodded, helping me up. The room tilted a little. I stumbled. He caught me smoothly, one arm around my waist, guiding my hand across his neck to steady me. Before I could react, Asher was there. His hand closed around my wrist, firm and unyielding, and he pulled me away from Marcus. “Hey—” Marcus started. I twisted my arm, trying to yank free. “Let go of me!” Asher’s grip only tightened, not painful but impossible to break as he kept pulling me through the crowd toward the exit. I dug my heels in, stumbling awkwardly in the borrowed shoes, but he didn’t slow down. “I said let go!” I hissed, using my other hand to pry at his fingers. He ignored me completely, jaw set, eyes locked forward. Marcus caught up fast, shoving through people behind us. “Dude, she said let her go. What the hell is your problem?” Asher barely glanced at him. “Mind your own business.” Marcus stepped in front of us, blocking the way. “She’s not going anywhere with you. Back off.” The tension snapped. Asher released my wrist and shoved Marcus hard in the chest, sending him stumbling back into a group of people. Drinks spilled. Someone cursed. Marcus recovered quickly and swung at Asher, landing a solid hit to his shoulder. Asher retaliated instantly — a sharp push followed by a punch that caught Marcus in the jaw. The fight exploded. They crashed into a side table, knocking over bottles and cups. People shouted and backed away, forming a loose circle. Marcus was taller but Asher was faster and clearly more used to physical confrontations. He grabbed Marcus by the shirt and drove him back against the wall. “Stop it!” I yelled, my head spinning from the alcohol and the chaos. “Both of you!” Security or someone from the frat was already pushing through the crowd toward the commotion. Asher landed one more hit before he stepped back, breathing hard, his eyes burning as they locked on me. Marcus wiped blood from his lip, glaring. “You’re crazy, man.” Asher didn’t answer him. He just stared at me for another beat. “Ivy—” That was all he managed. I wrenched my arm back with everything I had and slapped him hard across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the quiet. Asher’s head jerked to the side. For a long moment, he just stood there, stunned. Then slowly, he turned back to look at me. Shock, disappointment, and raw anger warred across his expression. “You really shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You really shouldn’t have, Ivy.” He stared at me for another heavy second, rubbing his jaw, then turned and walked away into the night without another word. I stood there shaking, my palm stinging, heart hammering in my chest. Marcus came rushing out a moment later, looking concerned. “You okay?” I nodded numbly, but I wasn’t sure I was.Asher Finally, it's the Tournament day.The hotel buzzed with the kind of restless energy that only showed up before a game that actually mattered. Players moved through the lobby with headphones on, duffel bags slung over shoulders, each locked inside their own pre-game ritual.Mine usually involved coffee. Today it involved trying very hard not to look for one particular person.It wasn’t working.We loaded onto the team bus just after eight. The guys were louder than usual, throwing predictions around like confetti.“If Jax misses another open net,” Ethan announced from somewhere behind me, “I’m requesting a new assistant captain. Effective immediately.”Jax looked personally offended. “I miss one goal—”“You missed three.”“They were calculated.”“They were embarrassing.”Laughter ripped through the bus. I barely heard any of it.My eyes drifted down the aisle.Ivy sat three rows ahead by the window. Earbuds in. Phone in her hand. Not editing. Not scrolling. Just… sm
AsherA day off.Coach Harlan had called it a recovery day. Jax called it a “professional eating competition.” I called it a waste of perfectly good ice time.“You’ve been staring at that menu for five minutes,” Ethan said from across the table, looking far too entertained.“I know what I want.”“Clearly not.”Jax leaned over my shoulder like he was about to give a TED Talk on my life choices. “Just order the burger, Cap. It’s tradition. Sacred. Don’t mess with the gods.”“I don’t want a burger.”He recoiled like I’d slapped him. “You always want a burger.”“Not today.”Jax narrowed his eyes dramatically. “…Who are you and what have you done with Asher Hayes? Return our captain. This one’s defective.”A few of the guys laughed. I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw last season.“I’m thinking.”“No,” Jax corrected, pointing his butter knife at me. “You’re brooding. There’s a difference. Brooding is when you stare into the middle distance like you’re writing sad poetry abou
IvyThe text came just after nine.I was still half-curled on the bed, laptop open but ignored, scrolling through the same practice photos for the third time when my phone lit up with an unknown number.A small smile tugged at my lips. I already had a feeling who it was.“Hello?”“Good day.” Marcus’s voice came through, warm but careful. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”“Not at all.” I closed my laptop and leaned back against the pillows. “I was just editing photos.”“Still working even this late?”“It’s hard to break the habit.”He gave a quiet laugh. “I believe that.”A short silence settled between us. Not uncomfortable, but weighted.“So,” I said, tucking one leg beneath me, “you finally got my number.”“I did.”“I’m guessing Lena gave in?”“Eventually. Since I already got permission from you.”I smiled. Marcus chuckled, but the sound faded quickly. He cleared his throat.“Listen… I know this is a little strange. We’ve only met once. That night. And I don’
IvyThe suitcase wheels whispered against the carpet like they were trying not to wake the tension still humming in my chest. Every step down the hallway felt heavier than the last, the handle cool and slick under my palm. I kept my eyes forward, refusing to look back at the door I’d just closed.Take care.Asher’s voice had been rough, low, the kind of quiet that lodged itself under your ribs and refused to leave. I hated how much I wanted to turn around. How much I wanted to say something, anything that wasn’t polite and hollow.Instead, I kept walking until I arrived at the door.I stood there for a moment, suitcase handle still warm in my palm, the new room keycard slick between my fingers. This was supposed to be a relief. Instead, the silence pressed in like a weighted blanket I hadn’t asked for.This was my official room, the one I was assigned on day one. The one I’d spent the first few nights secretly hoping would be fixed so I could escape the forced proximity with Ash
Jennie approached our table before I could lay into them any further. She looked a little nervous but determined, eyes flicking straight to my shoulder. “I asked them to bring you,” she admitted softly, cutting off my protest. “I figured if I asked you myself after everything today, you’d decline. And I… I just wanted to make sure you were really okay. You scared me earlier.”The guys suddenly found the menu very interesting, giving us a sliver of fake privacy. I exhaled through my nose, tension and exhaustion warring inside me.“Jennie…”“Just sit,” she said gently, sliding into the booth and patting the spot beside her. “Eat something. Let me feel useful for five minutes.”Against my better judgment, I sat. The team jumped back into loud conversation — rehashing Coach Miller’s brutal drills, the suspicious play-calling, how he seemed to be pushing contact on purpose while repeating their key offensive setups. Plenty of gratitude for Coach Harlan’s heads-up so they hadn’t shown t
AsherBy the time we left the arena, the sun was already sinking beneath the horizon, bleeding orange and purple across the sky like a fresh bruise. My shoulder throbbed in perfect sync with it.The bus was loud the second we piled in, louder than usual after a brutal practice. Jax launched into yet another dramatic retelling before we even pulled out of the lot.“I’m telling you, that last play should’ve been Goal of the Year,” he declared, arms flailing. “I got robbed.”“Can't believe Asher tripped over his own damn skate,” Ethan deadpanned from the seat beside me.“I was fouled.”“You weren’t even near the puck.”“You wouldn't understand.”Laughter ripped through the cab. Someone launched a rolled-up towel at Jax’s head. He caught it one-handed. “Assault? I’m pressing charges.”Normally I would’ve jumped in with something cutting. Tonight I just leaned back, ice pack pressed to my shoulder, and forced a half-smile whenever the guys looked my way.“Cap.” Ethan nudged me. “
I couldn’t sleep.I tossed and turned on my narrow dorm bed, the sheets twisting around my legs like restraints. Every time I closed my eyes, Asher’s face appeared — that split-second hesitation in the VIP room, followed by the cruel smirk as he shoved me out. Would he keep my secret? Or was he alr
The silence after the slap was deafening.For one heartbeat, the entire student lounge seemed to freeze. Then chaos erupted.Gasps turned into murmurs. Phones stayed raised, lenses pointed straight at us like weapons. Someone whispered, “Did she just slap the captain?” Another voice laughed nervous
The silence that followed Asher’s words was worse than laughter.I stood frozen at the entrance of the hockey club while twenty pairs of eyes bounced between us. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Everyone seemed to be waiting for an explanation.For a moment, I foolishly hoped he had changed. Two years h
The acceptance email had been sitting in my inbox for exactly twelve minutes and thirty-seven seconds.Not that I was counting.My hands shook so badly I nearly dropped my phone while crossing the crowded university courtyard. One word stared back at me.Congratulations.It had taken two years of c







