POV: ACEBluey Monroe for hockey captain this season.I stood completely frozen in the doorway, my hand still clamped around the brass handle so tightly the metal groaned under the pressure. The linoleum floorboards beneath my boots felt like they were tilting wildly. The office smelled of old sweat, leather notebooks, and the faint, chemical scent of the athletic director’s cheap coffee, but all I could focus on was the roar of blood rushing behind my ears."Ah, Ace. Come in," Coach murmured, finally looking up from the stack of glossy transfer transcripts spread across his desk. He waved a dismissive hand toward the basketball coach, who had been leaning against the filing cabinet. "Give us the room, Frank. We need to handle a roster adjustment."Frank nodded, giving me a cautious, lingering look as he squeezed past my massive frame into the hallway, shutting the frosted glass door behind him with a soft, definitive click.I walked in fully, my heavy boots striking the floor with a
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