جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 50

CALIX'S POV I was lying on my side in my bed, staring at the wall. It was quiet. On the other side of that wall, Noah was probably lying in his bed too, staring at the exact same spot. I missed him. I said the words quietly in my head, letting them sit in my mind. I missed his voice, his touch, his annoying cocky smirk, and the way he held my face like I was the only thing that mattered in the whole world. I wasn't mad at him. I knew why he had stepped in front of me two weeks ago. I knew he had accepted his father's deal to protect my hockey career, even if it meant walking away from me. I understood why he had to take Ariana out on those dates and pose for photos. It still hurts though. It hurt so much that my stomach felt like a knot of barbed wire every single time I saw his face on TV. But I didn't hate him. I couldn't hate him even if I tried. It used to be easy to hate him before, but not anymore… not after that night. I let out a slow breath, st

CALIX'S POV I really couldn't take it anymore. The locker room at Kensington University was already a living nightmare, but today crossed every single line. I was sitting on my own… on the bench after practice, tying the laces on my sneakers, trying my best to act like a ghost when suddenly, a sticky shock hit the back of my head. Brandon and two other hockey players were standing behind me. Brandon was holding an empty plastic cup, laughing as a cold chocolate protein shake dripped down my hair, over my neck, and soaked into my shirt. “Oops,” Brandon sneered, tossing the plastic cup to the floor between my feet. “My hand slipped, Sinclair. But hey, at least now you smell as dirty as your family.” The other guys burst into loud, obnoxious laughter, slapping their knees. ‘Dramatic! Over such a lame overused bullying tactics!’ I stood up slowly, wiping the drink from my face with my hand. “You think you're really funny, don't you?” “I think you're a fake,” Brandon s

CALIX’S POVThe house was quiet on Saturday afternoon.George was out at his corporate office, and Noah was supposedly taking care of some private business. I was in my bedroom, tearing through my closet, looking for my extra roll of black hockey tape. Practice was early tomorrow morning, and I needed to re-tape my stick before heading to the rink.I couldn't find the roll anywhere in my room. Then I remembered that my mom had taken a box of my extra sports gear into her dressing room two days ago when the house staff was cleaning out the upper hall.I walked down the long corridor and stepped into my mother’s suite.The room was huge, filled with white marble floors, giant mirrors, and rack after rack of brand-new designer dresses, coats, and expensive leather handbags that George had bought for her over the past month. The heavy scent of sweet rose perfume filled the air so strongly it almost made my nose itch.“Mom?” I called out, stepping deeper into the dressing room.No answer.

CALIX’S POVThe Kensington Gala was huge, insanely loud, and packed to the ceiling with rich people. Nothing new. The main ballroom of the Kensington Hotel looked like something out of a movie about billionaires. Giant lights hung from the roof, long tables were covered in white cloths with plates in gold and silver color, and waiters in black vests were walking around carrying trays of different colors of drinks. Hundreds of news reporters and photographers were standing behind ropes, their camera lights flashing every single second.Every rich family from Kensington University was there, dressed in fancy tuxedos and expensive looking glittering dresses, most of them were ugly though. And then there was me.I was standing near the entrance, pulling at the stiff collar of my jacket, looking down at myself with utter disbelief.George had picked out my outfit for the night. He had forced me to wear a bright, eye-straining, loud red suit.Not dark red. Not burgundy. Bright, screamin

CALIX’S POVChaos broke loose inside the ballroom.The silence that had settled over the room shattered into thousands of loud, screaming voices. Reporters pushed forward against the ropes, shouting questions at the top of their lungs, their camera lights flashing like crazy. Guests in suits and designer dresses stood up from their tables, gasping and pulling out their phones.George’s face turned a violent shade of purple. He lunged toward the podium, grabbing Noah by the collar of his suit jacket.“Shut your filthy mouth!” George roared, his voice cutting through the microphone like a crack of thunder. “Cut the feed! Turn off the main broadcast right now!”Noah didn't flinch. He didn't even try to shove George’s hands off his jacket. Instead, he pulled his phone out of his pocket with his right hand, lifted his thumb, and pressed a single blue button on his screen.Instantly, a sharp chime went off on hundreds of phones across the ballroom.Noah had programmed a automated code to