LOGINIvy
I barely slept. After the chaos at the party, after the slap, after watching Asher walk away into the night, I had tossed and turned for hours. The alcohol had left me with a dull headache and a heavy sense of dread. I finally drifted off sometime close to dawn. “Ivy! Ivy, wake up!” Lena’s voice yanked me violently back to consciousness. She burst into the room, still in her pajamas, waving her phone like it was on fire. “Ivy, oh my God, wake up right now!” I sat up groggily, rubbing my eyes. My head pounded. “What… what time is it?” “You need to see this.” She shoved the phone into my hands, already playing a video. The clip was shaky, clearly filmed by someone in the crowd at the party. It started with Asher grabbing my wrist and pulling me away, then Marcus intervening. The fight exploded on screen — punches, shoving, drinks flying. Then the camera zoomed in on the moment I slapped Asher hard across the face. The audio caught the sharp crack perfectly. The caption above the video read: “Northbridge Hockey Star Asher Hayes in Wild Party Fight Over Mystery Girl — Then She Slaps Him?!” There were more videos. Different angles. One zoomed in on my face. Another slowed down the slap. The comments were flooding in: •“Who is she?? Asher fighting over a girl is crazy” •“Is this his new girlfriend or what” •“That slap was personal af 😂” My stomach dropped. I took a deep breath of pure frustration, gripping the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. “This is everywhere,” Lena said, scrolling rapidly. “Campus group chats, X, TikTok… it’s blowing up. Some people are calling it the drama of the semester already.” I closed my eyes for a second, trying to steady myself. Of course this would happen. One night of trying to feel normal, one moment of losing control, and now the entire school was speculating about me and Asher. “I shouldn’t have gone,” I muttered. Lena sat on the edge of my bed, looking equal parts concerned and excited. “You shouldn't feel that way, Ivy. You went to have fun, things just got really messed up. But for real… what is going on between you two? Because this doesn’t look like nothing.” I handed her phone back. “It’s a long story. We knew each other in high school. He made my life hell back then. And apparently he wants to keep doing it here.” Lena’s eyes widened. “Wait, seriously? He seemed so… charming. I couldn't have thought he is a bully.” I almost laughed. “Yeah. He’s good at that.” She didn’t push too hard, but I could tell she was dying for more details. “Well, whatever it is, be careful. He’s kind of a big deal around here. Star player and all that. Also, you should look out for Jennie.” I frowned. “Who’s Jennie?” Lena sighed. “His ex-girlfriend… or whatever she is. She’s a cheerleader. No one really knows if they officially broke up or if they were ever properly dating. But she’s still very protective of him. Even when he barely pays her any attention, she acts like he belongs to her. She and her squad go after anyone who tries to get too close to him. They can be vicious.” I rubbed my temples. “Damn!” Lena gave me a sympathetic look. “Just keep your head down for a bit. And maybe… stay away from trouble for a while?” I nodded weakly, but I already knew it wouldn’t be that simple. The viral videos were out there. The rumors were spreading. And Asher’s warning from last night still echoed in my head. It was only beginning. Asher I woke up with my jaw aching and my phone blowing up. The slap replayed in my head before I even opened my eyes — the sharp crack, the way Ivy’s eyes had burned with pure fury. I touched the tender spot on my cheek and let out a low curse. No one had ever slapped me like that. Not in high school. Not here. Certainly not the girl I used to call “charity case.” My phone vibrated again. Coach Harlan. Three missed calls already. Coach didn’t call more than twice unless it was an emergency or someone was dying. I answered the fourth one, sitting up. “Hayes,” Coach’s voice was sharp, no greeting. “I want you in my office. Now. Don’t make me come find you.” He hung up before I could respond. What the hell happened overnight? I tried to check my messages, but the network was acting up and I couldn’t load anything. I dragged myself out of bed, jaw tight, got dressed quickly, and headed over. When I walked into Coach’s office, he was standing by the window, arms crossed, looking pissed. “Sit,” he ordered. I sat. Coach slid his phone across the desk. One of the videos was paused right at the moment Ivy slapped me. “Care to explain what the hell this is?” he asked, voice low and dangerous. I picked it up. The shaky footage played: me grabbing Ivy’s wrist, the fight with that guy, and then Ivy slapping me hard across the face. The sound was painfully clear. Coach didn’t wait for an answer. “Because right now it looks like my star player is starting bar fights over some girl and getting embarrassed in public.” “It wasn’t a bar fight,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “It was a party. Some guy got in my face.” “A misunderstanding?” Coach’s eyebrows shot up. “Misconduct. Public brawl. Those are the allegations flying around. Investors for the upcoming tournament are calling me nonstop, threatening to pull their funding if we don’t contain this immediately.” I leaned back. “That’s pushing it too far…” Coach let out a harsh laugh. “What did you expect when you beat up an ex-hockey captain on camera in front of a party full of drunk witnesses?” I frowned. “Ex-hockey captain?” “Yeah. Marcus.” Coach rubbed his temples. “Everyone knew him. He was the golden boy — the face of Northbridge Hockey before you got here. Talented, charismatic, unbeatable on the ice. Then he got into that bad accident four years ago. Missed almost two full years of school recovering. When he finally came back, he was so far behind academically that he had to switch majors to business. The program took a huge hit back then.” “Oh…” Coach leaned forward, eyes serious. “Public image matters here, Hayes. Especially with the tournament coming up. Hockey is one of the university’s biggest programs right now. I won’t have my captain making us look like idiots on social media.” I swallowed. “So what now?” “Turn this into something else,” Coach said. “Convince the public it wasn’t a scandal. If people think you two were already in a relationship before last night, this stops being athlete misconduct and becomes relationship drama — just a lovers’ quarrel that got out of hand. Be seen with her. Smooth it over.” “But we aren’t dating,” I said. “Then start acting like you are,” Coach replied flatly. “I’m not officially telling you to do anything. It’s just until the end of the tournament. But if this escalates and the administration steps in… you could lose your spot on the team. And she could lose her scholarship.” He leaned forward, expression hard. “Fail to fix this and you’re benched. I don’t care how good you are. Understood?” “Understood.” Coach nodded. “Good. Now get out of here and handle it.”IvyI walked across campus clutching my bag like a lifeline, my steps slow and heavy. The meeting with the student adviser kept replaying in my head on an endless loop.The woman had been polite but firm, her expression unreadable as she reviewed the notes on her laptop.“The board is already reviewing your scholarship in light of the recent… incident,” she had said. “We’ll try to contain the situation, but only if the attention dies down quickly. Otherwise, you may have to forfeit the scholarship entirely.”She had paused, then added, “I’ll be in touch soon, Miss Hart.”Just like that. No “one more chance.” No warnings. Just the cold reality that everything I had fought for could be taken away.I thought back to the two years of endless applications, rejection letters, late nights filling out forms while Mom was in treatment, and the constant fear that someone like me didn’t deserve a shot at Northbridge. I had sacrificed so much to get here. And now, barely a week into the semester,
IvyI barely slept.After the chaos at the party, after the slap, after watching Asher walk away into the night, I had tossed and turned for hours. The alcohol had left me with a dull headache and a heavy sense of dread. I finally drifted off sometime close to dawn.“Ivy! Ivy, wake up!”Lena’s voice yanked me violently back to consciousness. She burst into the room, still in her pajamas, waving her phone like it was on fire.“Ivy, oh my God, wake up right now!”I sat up groggily, rubbing my eyes. My head pounded. “What… what time is it?”“You need to see this.” She shoved the phone into my hands, already playing a video.The clip was shaky, clearly filmed by someone in the crowd at the party. It started with Asher grabbing my wrist and pulling me away, then Marcus intervening. The fight exploded on screen — punches, shoving, drinks flying. Then the camera zoomed in on the moment I slapped Asher hard across the face. The audio caught the sharp crack perfectly.The caption above the vid
Chapter 5: The HeroThe sick bay smelled like antiseptic and stale coffee. Asher carried me straight through the doors like some tragic hero from a romance movie, my wet clothes dripping all over the floor. The nurse on duty jumped up from her desk, eyes wide.“What happened?” she asked, rushing over.“She fell into the pool,” Asher said smoothly, voice laced with perfect concern. “She can’t swim. I managed to get her out just in time.” He gently laid me down on the examination bed, brushing wet strands of hair from my face in a gesture that looked tender to anyone watching.I wanted to scream.The nurse immediately checked my breathing and pulse. “She’s stable, but we’ll monitor her for a bit. You did the right thing bringing her here so quickly.”Asher nodded, playing the role flawlessly. “I’ll stay with her.”The nurse gave him a grateful smile and stepped out to grab some dry towels and forms, leaving us alone. He then stood up to use the restroom.He had barely left the room when
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 already planning how to destroy me with it? The scholarship, the club job, my mother’s life… everything hung by a thread he now controlled.Eventually, exhaustion pulled me under sometime after 3 AM.The next morning, my phone wouldn’t stop beeping.I groaned and reached for it, squinting at the screen. Notifications flooded in — dozens of them. I clicked on one and my blood ran cold.The video of me slapping Asher in the student lounge had gone viral.Captions tore across the screen:“Hockey Captain Gets Slapped by Scholarship Girl”“Asher Hayes Humiliated on Campus – Who is This Girl?”“Charity Case Fights Back? Captain’s Ego Destroyed”Some comments defended him. Others mocked him. His perfe
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 nervously. My palm stung, but it was nothing compared to the pounding in my chest.Asher slowly turned his head back toward me. A red mark bloomed across his cheek. His cold gray eyes locked onto mine, no longer amused. Something darker flickered there — surprise mixed with raw anger.He stepped closer, towering over me, close enough that I caught that faint masculine scent again. The same one that had betrayed me moments earlier. My traitorous body noticed. My mind screamed at it to stop.“You just made a big mistake,” he murmured, for my ears only this time. “You really shouldn't have.”I grabbed my bag and pushed past him with a long hiss, ignoring the way my shoulder brushed his chest. The cont
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 had passed. People grew up. High school ended. Life moved on.Then he looked at me, and that hope died instantly. The amusement in his cold gray eyes was exactly the same.“You know her, Captain?” one of the players asked.Asher slipped his hands into his pockets. “Unfortunately.”Laughter erupted around the room. Heat crawled up my neck. I wanted to turn and walk out, but I tightened my grip on my camera bag instead. A scholarship student didn’t get the luxury of running.One of the coaches stepped in before I could respond.“Perfect. You’re here.” The middle-aged man handed me a folder. “Ivy Hart, right? Photography major?”I nodded.“Good. You’ll be working closely with the team this semes
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







