LOGINAriana's POV
I sat on my bed with my laptop open, staring at the scholarship portal until the words started to blur. The deadline was in four days. I had four days to finish a perfect portfolio, keep my 3.8 GPA, and somehow prove I was worth keeping on the funding list. My stomach twisted. The numbers in my bank account stared back at me, it barely enough for books and food this month. One missed payment, one bad grade, and everything I had worked for could disappear. Becca walked out of the bathroom, towel drying her messy brown hair. She took one look at my face and dropped onto her bed across from me. “Ari, you’ve been staring at that screen for an hour. What’s going on?” I closed the laptop slowly, my fingers lingering on the lid. “The scholarship reminder came again. Portfolio due soon and if I don’t nail it… I don’t know what I’ll do, Becca. I can’t lose this.” Becca tossed the towel aside and leaned forward, her expressive face full of concern. “You’re one of the best students in your program. They’re not going to drop you. But… you’ve been thinking about Jace’s offer, haven’t you?” I stood up and started pacing the small room, arms wrapped around myself. My socks slid quietly on the floor. “Every time I try to focus on my work, I keep seeing those numbers. The interviews he mentioned… that kind of access could make my portfolio stand out. It could actually help though.” Becca nodded slowly. “Exactly, and it’s fake, right? No feelings. Just some pictures and showing up at games. You keep your independence and he gets his image fixed. Its a Win-win.” I stopped by the window and pressed my forehead against the cool glass. “It sounds so simple when you say it. But what if it’s not? What if I start depending on him even a little? What if people find out and think I’m using him? Or worse… what if I start feeling something?” Becca stayed quiet for a moment, then spoke softly. “I get it. Davian made you scared of trusting anyone. But Jace seemed different when you told me about the library. Desperate, yeah, but not manipulative like Davian. Maybe this is the universe giving you a practical solution for once.” I turned around and leaned against the wall, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. My legs stretched out in front of me. “Practical. That’s what he called it too. But nothing about pretending to date the most popular guy on campus feels practical to me.” We talked for a long time after that. Becca kept gently pushing the benefits while I kept listing every reason it could go wrong.She wanted me to have help. I wanted to prove I didn’t need it. Eventually Becca yawned and climbed into bed. “Just sleep on it, Ari. You don’t have to decide tonight.” But I couldn’t sleep. Hours later, the dorm room was dark except for the glow of my phone screen. Becca was softly snoring across the room. I sat against my headboard, heart racing, staring at Jace’s contact. My thumb hovered over the call button. Why couldn’t I just text him? Texting would be easier and safer I pressed call before I could stop myself. The phone rang. Once, twice. My stomach flipped. I almost hung up. Jace answered on the third ring, his voice rough with sleep. “Ariana?” I froze. My mouth went dry. I gripped the phone tighter. “Yeah… it’s me. Sorry for calling so late.” There was a pause. I could hear him shifting, probably sitting up. “It’s fine. I wasn’t really sleeping anyway. Did you… rethink about the offer?” I stood up and started pacing the dark room, free hand pressed to my forehead. My bare feet made soft sounds on the floor. “I have been. All night. The scholarship deadline is killing me. If I don’t get strong material for my portfolio… I could lose everything.” Jace stayed quiet, waiting. I could hear his breathing on the other end. I stopped by the window, looking out at the dark campus. “I told myself I wouldn’t do this. I don’t want to rely on anyone. Especially not like this. But… the interviews you mentioned. The access. It could actually help me.” Another pause. Longer this time. I heard him exhale. “So… what are you saying?” My heart pounded so hard I felt it in my throat. I started pacing again, faster. “I’m saying… I’m considering it. But I’m scared, Jace. I don’t want this to turn into something complicated. I don’t want to get hurt again.” “I get that,” he said quietly. His voice sounded tired but careful. “We can set clear rules. No private stuff. No feelings. Just enough to make it believable.” I stopped walking. My free hand clenched into a fist at my side. The words were right there, but they felt huge. “I…” Jace’s voice softened. “Look, if you’re not sure, we don’t have to—” “Let’s do it,” I blurted out suddenly, cutting him off. My voice came out shaky. “Let’s do the fake dating thing.” The line went completely silent for a few seconds. I stood there frozen, phone pressed tight to my ear, heart racing wildly as I realized what I had just said.Jace's POVI drove out to my childhood home on a Tuesday afternoon I should have spent at practice, exhaustion finally outweighing every reason I usually had for staying away from a house that had never actually felt like home in any way that mattered.The place sat quiet when I pulled into the driveway, no cars besides my own, the housekeeper's schedule apparently not bringing her by today, my mother somewhere else entirely as she usually was, off on whatever extended trip or social obligation currently occupied her attention. I let myself in with my old key, the silence pressing in around me the second the door clicked shut, familiar and hollow in exactly the way I remembered.I wandered through rooms I barely recognized as mine anymore, searching for nothing in particular, just needing somewhere quiet to sit with everything currently crushing me, the injury, the scout's concerns, Mike's continued distance, the ache of losing Ariana that never seemed to fully fade no matter how much
Ariana's POVThe email arrived while I sat in the campus library, three days after my encounter with Davian, his vague warning still sitting uneasy in my chest despite my attempts to push it aside and focus on rebuilding my academic standing.**Financial Aid Office; Urgent: Discrepancy in Application Materials**My stomach dropped the second I read the subject line, dread crawling up my spine before I'd even opened the message fully. I clicked into it with unsteady hands, scanning through formal language that made my chest tighten with every sentence.*Dear Ms. Brooks, our office has received information suggesting potential inconsistencies in your original financial aid application, specifically regarding household income reporting from your initial enrollment year. We are required to investigate any such claims thoroughly. Pending this review, your current financial aid disbursement will be placed on temporary hold. Please contact our office imm
Maya's POVI sat in the stands during Jace's practice, telling myself I was just there to support the team generally, though the real reason sat closer to the persistent, uncomfortable pull I still felt whenever his name came up in conversation.I'd watched the whole scrimmage from a distance, close enough to see him wince sharply after that goal, close enough to notice the way his teammate Mike hovered protectively afterward, though far enough back that neither of them clocked my presence in the mostly empty stands. Something about watching him struggle like that stirred an uncomfortable mix of concern and opportunity, feelings I'd been sitting with more frequently since our coffee meetings started.I lingered near the rink entrance after practice ended, hoping for a chance to catch him, though the scout's presence complicated things, the stern-looking man in his fifties still standing near the exit, phone pressed to his ear, his voice carrying just enoug
Jace's POVI wrapped my shoulder tighter than usual before practice, careful to keep the extra layers hidden beneath my jersey where Coach's watchful eyes wouldn't catch anything unusual after last week's video scare.Mike hadn't fully come back around yet, though he'd started speaking to me again in short, careful exchanges, enough that the isolation of losing his full support had eased slightly without fully resolving. I laced my skates slowly, testing the range of motion in my arm, wincing internally at the persistent ache that no amount of rest seemed to actually be fixing."You're moving stiffer than usual," Mike said, dropping down onto the bench beside me, his voice carrying cautious concern rather than the outright frustration from our last real conversation."I'm managing it," I said, the deflection coming automatic despite knowing exactly how thin that excuse had worn by now."Jace." Mike's voice held a warning edge. "The video
Ariana's POVI spotted him the second I stepped out of the journalism building, and my whole body went rigid before I'd even fully processed who I was looking at.Davian stood near the steps, hands in his pockets, that same easy, confident posture he'd always carried like the world owed him space to occupy however he pleased. He looked exactly the same as he had over a year ago, well-groomed, casually expensive, the kind of charm that had once completely disarmed me now reading as something closer to a warning sign."Ariana." He said my name like we were old friends catching up, like he hadn't submitted a fabricated statement to my scholarship committee weeks ago that nearly cost me everything."What are you doing here." My voice came out sharper than I meant it to, though the shock of seeing him hadn't fully faded from my system yet."Can we talk?" He gestured toward a nearby bench, entirely too casual given everything sitting between us. "Just for a minute.""I don't have anything t
Ethan's POVI watched the video three times before calling my son, my jaw tightening with each replay, irritation building steadily into something colder and more calculated.The footage itself wasn't the problem. Speculation about an injury could be managed, redirected, spun into a narrative about dedication rather than concern if handled properly. The problem was the timing, the visibility, the way this kept happening despite every intervention I'd already made to control the narrative surrounding my son's career.I dialed his number, my grip tight around the phone."Dad." Jace's voice came through cautious, exhausted in a way that irritated me further."We need to discuss this video," I said, skipping any pleasantries. "And the broader pattern I'm seeing develop around you lately.""Coach already called," Jace said. "I explained it. It's being handled.""Is it?" I let the question sit there, cold and pointed. "Because







