Chapter 3: The Notification

CLARA’S POV

The lock clicked shut with a sharp snap, and my knees finally gave out.

I slid down the back of the dorm room door until I hit the carpet, pulling my knees tight against my chest. 

My chest heaved, my throat raw with every ragged breath. Hot, humiliating tears spilled over my cheeks, blurring the dark room around me.

Everything had collapsed in less than thirty minutes. I had spent twelve hours on a cramped flight across three time zones just to surprise Ethan with his favorite imported chocolates and a team jersey. 

Instead of a warm reunion, I had walked into Locker Room Four and found him with a cheerleader straddling his lap on the bench.

His slurred, cruel words played on a vicious loop in my head. 

As if getting cheated on wasn’t humiliating enough, my idea of revenge had been reckless insanity. 

I stormed outside into the freezing night, grabbed Jaxon Vance by the collar of his varsity jacket, kissed him until my head spun, and asked him to be my boyfriend right in front of his teammates. 

Then, the moment he kissed me back with an intensity that rattled me to my core, I panicked and sprinted across campus like a terrified child.

I pressed my face into my hands, choking back a sob. I had handed Ethan the perfect weapon to mock me, and I had dragged the most dangerous, untouchable hockey player at Saint Jude University straight into my mess.

The door handle rattled against my back.

I scrambled up, scrubbing frantically at my wet cheeks as the lock turned from the outside.

Mia walked in, balancing a cardboard drink tray with two iced coffees in one hand and a paper bag of takeout in the other. 

She kicked the door shut with her heel, took one look at my face, and stopped dead in her tracks. The easy smile on her lips vanished.

“Clara? What happened?” She dumped the food on her desk and rushed over, grabbing my trembling arms. 

“Why are you crying? Did something happen to Ethan?”

“He cheated on me, Mia,” I choked out, my voice cracking down the middle. 

“I went to surprise him at the arena. He was in the locker room with someone else. A cheerleader. All over him on the bench.”

Mia’s jaw dropped, her eyes blazing with instant fury. 

“You have got to be kidding me. After you took a red-eye flight just to get here a week early for his opening game?”

“He claimed we have an open relationship,” I said, fresh tears burning my eyes. 

“He laughed in my face and told me long-distance was too hard, even though I was only gone for seven days. Then he told me to go find another guy because no one would want me anyway.”

“That miserable, narcissistic piece of trash!” Mia shouted, her fists clenching so hard her knuckles turned white. 

“I am going to slash his tires. No, I am going to march down to the rink and throw his hockey gear in the dumpster.”

“Mia, that’s not even the worst part,” I whispered, pressing my palms against my throbbing temples. 

“I lost my mind. I walked outside, saw Jaxon Vance standing by his car with his team, and I kissed him. Right on the mouth.”

The room went dead silent.

Mia froze, staring at me like I had just grown a second head. “You kissed Jaxon Vance? Ethan’s captain rival? The guy Ethan has spent the last two years obsessively hating?”

“And then I asked him to be my boyfriend,” I whimpered, collapsing onto the edge of my bed. 

“I just wanted to wipe that smug smirk off Ethan’s face. But Jaxon kissed me back, and I got so scared of what I had done that I ran. I don’t even have his number. He probably thinks I’m completely unhinged.”

Before Mia could respond, my phone buzzed sharply on the desk.

I picked it up with shaking hands, bracing myself for a barrage of hateful messages from Ethan. 

Instead, a direct message notification sat on the lock screen from a verified account: @jaxonvance.

My breath hitched. I unlocked the screen and tapped the notification.

Attached was a photo of Jaxon’s broad, calloused palm. Sitting in the center was the silver floral hair clip my mother had given me for my eighteenth birthday. 

It must have snagged on his coat when I grabbed him.

Beneath the photo, a single message stared back at me:

"You left this behind, girlfriend. Save my number: 555-0198. Don't make me look for you twice."

Mia leaned over my shoulder, reading the screen twice. A slow, wicked grin spread across her face.

“Clara,” she breathed, her tone filled with pure excitement. “This isn’t a disaster. This is karma handing you the ultimate weapon.”

“It’s a mistake!” I protested, pacing between our twin beds. 

“Jaxon Vance doesn’t date. He’s cold, he’s ruthless on the ice, and he definitely doesn’t do charity for girls who ambush him in parking lots. He’s going to use this to humiliate me.”

“Then text him and see,” Mia urged, shoving the phone back into my hands. “Don’t let Ethan win. Text him right now.”

Taking a shaky breath, I saved his number and opened a new message thread.

Me: I think there was a massive misunderstanding earlier. I was upset and not thinking clearly. I’m sorry for dragging you into my drama.

I hit send and tossed the phone onto my blanket. Two seconds later, three dots danced on the screen.

Jaxon: No misunderstanding. You asked a question. I gave you an answer.