Lahat ng Kabanata ng Pucking The Enemy Hockey Captain : Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Imani’s POV I was about saying what I felt at that money when June slowly pinched me and I sank into my seat.Just one night.The music hit first, coursing through the awful silence that was in the car. A low, thrumming bass that made the walls of the house vibrate— the pre-homecoming was already alive when Jackson's car rolled up the driveway, and I could feel the energy pulsing even from the passenger seat. Lights flashed through the front windows, red, blue, gold. All cutting across silhouettes of bodies pressed too close together. June squealed beside me, adjusting her sequined top in the mirror while I tried to avoid meeting glances with Jackson. He had been apologizing since forever but his sight still irritates me. “This is it, babe! Welcome back to college social life. I feel so fulfilled that you're here!”“More like voluntary sensory overload,” I muttered, half under my breath. She laughed, unbothered. “It's going to be fine. You've got me, and Jackson's just being Jac

Imani's POVThe pounding in my skull was like the bass of last night's music still playing in my head. I groaned, pressing a pillow over my head, trying to block out the sunlight spilling through my curtains.My mouth felt like cotton, and my throat dry sand, reminding me that I had let June convince me into going to the cursed party in the first place.This might even be the last and ever party.A knock came in.“Imani Grayson,” A familiar, deep angry voice snapped through the door.My heart stuttered and my eyes widened. “Tyrique.”I sat up too quickly, wincing as the room turned around me as if I drank alcohol and I was just recovering from a hangover. “Oh, no,” I muttered under my breath.The door burst open before I could even respond. My brother's presence filled the doorway, tall, broad-shouldered, and fuming. His jaw was tight, arms crossed like he was trying to stop himself from throwing something. Behind him, June stood awkwardly, eyes down, her fingers twisting around the h

Imani’s POVThe moment I stepped out of Dean Martin’s office, the hallway felt too bright, too loud, too exposed. My pulse was still hammering from what Nicolas had said, from the smug twist of his mouth when he repeated my own drunken confession back to me like it was a joke.God. I wanted to disappear.My fingers tightened around my books as I marched down the hallway, each step echoing louder than the last. My chest burned with anger. Embarrassment. Shame. All tangled into one humiliating knot.The air in the academic wing felt thick, like it stuck to my ribs. I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing when...“Imani!”June’s voice cut through the haze.I froze halfway down the stairs as she hurried toward me, curls bouncing, her bag slung lopsidedly across one shoulder. The moment she saw my face, her teasing smile faltered.“Whoa, hold on.” She grabbed my arm gently. “What happened? Why do you look like you just watched someone club a puppy?”I opened my mouth… then shut it

Imani’s POVBy the next morning, my apartment smelled like Nicolas had left irritation behind as a scent. I woke up exhausted, my brain still buzzing from last night’s session. The worst part wasn’t even the work, it was the way he had stared at me. Not mockingly. Not smugly.Just… stared. Like he actually saw me, and I didn’t know what to do with that.I dragged myself out of bed, brushed my teeth, put my hair up, and stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes looked tired, like I was already in over my head.And it had only been one night.Great.When I stepped into the living room, June was sitting cross-legged on the couch with a bowl of cereal, watching me with raised eyebrows.“You look like you got hit by a truck,” she said around a spoonful.“Thanks,” I muttered, heading to the kitchen for tea.“So…” June called, voice teasing, “how was your night with Satan?”I sighed, leaning against the counter. “Horrible.”She grinned. “You sound like you’re lying.”“I sound l

Imani’s POVBy the third night of tutoring, my nerves were a mess.Not because Nicolas was difficult, he was always difficult, but because something had shifted. Something subtle. Something I didn’t trust.Ever since I called him childish, he had been quieter. More focused. Less sarcastic. It should’ve made things easier.Instead, it made me… aware. Aware of his eyes lingering too long. Aware of his height when he leaned over my table. Aware of the way he smelled when he walked past me, crisp laundry, clean skin, faint cologne.I hated myself for noticing. I hated him more for making me notice.But ignoring Nicolas was like ignoring gravity, impossible, stupid, and guaranteed to cause damage.At 10:02 PM, three hard knocks sounded at my door.I opened it and found him standing there in a black t-shirt and joggers, hair damp like he’d showered again. He glanced at me once, eyes flicking down my face before looking away quickly.“Evening,” he muttered.“You’re on time again. Miracles ex