All Chapters of PUCK ME, STEPBROTHER: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Old WoundsBryson's POVI don't want to go with Marcus and his teammates, but I have no real choice without looking like an asshole. Marcus's team is heading back to Canada in a few days, and they're throwing a big party at his mom's house before they leave."Come on, it'll be fun," one of Marcus's teammates says, clapping me on the shoulder. "Better than sitting around campus doing nothing."Our guys seem excited about it too, already talking about free alcohol and meeting new people. I can't exactly say no without explaining why, and I don't have a good reason that doesn't sound paranoid.The bus ride to Marcus's place is loud, laughter bouncing around from every direction. Guys are joking about the game, trash-talking each other, and making plans for the party.Julian sits by himself near the back, his expression sour, phone in his hand. He barely looks up, just stares at his screen like it's the most interesting thing in the world.I feel this weight of guilt pressing down on my c

Old FriendsBryson's POVI keep looking for a job, sending out applications like it's my second job. Most places reject me outright, and the ones that don't have hours that completely clash with hockey and classes. It feels hopeless."Maybe just focus on school," Danny suggests one night while I'm staring at my laptop."I need the money.""Richard's already paying your tuition though.""That's exactly why I need my own money."I'm close to giving up when my phone rings with an unknown number. For a second I think it might be Roy again, but the area code is local."Hello?""Is this Bryson Miller? This is Michael from Pages Bookshop. You applied for the part-time position?"My heart jumps. "Yeah, that's me.""Can you come in tomorrow around two? I'd like to talk about the job.""Absolutely. I'll be there."I show up fifteen minutes early, nervous but hopeful. The bookshop is small and cozy, tucked between a coffee shop and a dry cleaner. The smell of old paper and coffee hits me the sec

MisunderstandingsJulian's POVI feel irritated and I can't explain why. It's been eating at me for days, this constant low-level annoyance that makes everything feel off.A few days ago, I saw Bryson at a cafe with someone - dark hair, leather jacket, sitting close across the table. They were laughing about something, completely absorbed in their conversation. I'd only gone in to grab coffee before heading to the library, but seeing them together made me turn around and leave without ordering anything.Now I've overheard him on the phone with someone named Rowan. His voice went all soft and friendly in a way that made my jaw clench involuntarily. He was smiling while he talked, the kind of genuine smile I never see him give anyone at practice.My mind makes quick assumptions, filling in blanks with scenarios I don't want to think about. Bryson must have a boyfriend. Some guy he's keeping secret from everyone at school, maybe because he's not ready to come out yet. That would explain

Grade issuesJulian's POVAfter the second exhibition game, I drive Bryson back to the mansion for the weekend. Dad texted during the game saying he expects both of us home for a family dinner, which means neither of us has a choice.The car ride is completely silent. Bryson stares out his window, and I focus on the road, both of us lost in our own thoughts. The radio plays some generic pop station, filling the quiet with noise that doesn't require conversation.My mind is heavy as I grip the wheel. My grades have been dropping fast - really fast. I failed my last economics test, barely scraped by on a finance assignment, and I'm pretty sure I bombed the accounting quiz from this morning. If I fail these courses, I know exactly what happens next. Dad will pull me from hockey faster than I can blink.The worst part is that I never wanted business and finance in the first place. I wanted to study sports management or maybe physical therapy, something that actually connects to what I car

Misheard WordsJulian's POVI've been working extra hard on my schoolwork, trying to pull my grades up before Dad follows through on his threats. Hours in the library, tutoring sessions with the TA, staying up late reviewing material I should have learned weeks ago. It's exhausting, but the alternative is losing hockey, and that's not an option.Today I had a meeting with Professor Daniel about my economics grade, so I texted Coach that I'd be late to practice and got permission. The meeting was scheduled for thirty minutes but dragged on for almost an hour - sixty painful minutes of listening to the professor list out every single one of my failures and warning me exactly what would happen if I didn't improve by midterms."You're a smart kid, Hayes," he said, looking at me over his reading glasses. "I can see that in your participation during lectures. But smart doesn't matter if you don't put in the work. Right now, you're failing. Not struggling, failing. Do you understand the diff