Harold Hutchins Captain Underpants Novels & Stories

He turned to me, as we walked, before turning his face to the right. “I'm trying to keep my identity hidden. You seem to have forgotten I'm a very great hockey player.” “I don't think there's a need for you to worry. Nobody is going to harass you. In fact, I think you should try to blend in.” “Really?” I nodded. “If you act like this, people are going to be suspicious, that can lead us into trouble.” He nodded, taking off the mask. “I'd still keep my cap though. I need to look good.” I rolled my eyes. “You look good. Without or without the cap.”

When I reached the door, I took a deep breath and knocked three times. “Come in,” a familiar voice called from inside. I opened the door and stepped in. Sitting across from Principal Hargrove was a ridiculously hot guy with dark, slightly tousled hair and striking dark green eyes. I recognized him instantly. Sebastian Hale. Westfield’s captain. The one who had dismantled Hawthorne’s offense on Friday night and smiled at me afterward like he actually saw me.

First day on the job and I’m hauling my camera bag through the arena tunnels, heart hammering because this was supposed to be my break through. I had studied this team like the palm of my hand. I spotted him right away. Riven Holt. Captain. Star forward. The guy everyone talked about like he was some kind of hockey god. Tall, built like he could break someone in half without trying, dark hair messy from practice, jaw set like he was permanently pissed off. He was barking orders at some rookies near the bench, voice sharp enough to cut glass. “New girl,” he called out when he noticed me standing there fiddling with my lens. “You the photographer? Let’s see what you got from warm-ups.”

Ivy Bennett has no time for boys. Between keeping her scholarship, paying her bills, and worrying about her younger brother in foster care, she already has enough on her plate. Then Ryder Knox fails a class. Westbury’s arrogant hockey captain needs a tutor, and unfortunately, Ivy is the best one available. She hates his attitude. He loves getting on her nerves. But when Ryder asks Ivy to pretend to be his girlfriend, their simple arrangement starts becoming dangerously real. Because Ryder isn’t supposed to fall for his tutor. And Ivy definitely isn’t supposed to fall for the boy she swore she hated.

Alex leaned closer, placing a hand over his bandaged shoulder, “You had nothing to do with that do you?” Harold started to tremble, his lips quivering as his bladder gave away. The stench of urine filled the air, Alex’s nose twitched as his eyes narrowed to the end of the bed which had been spiked—-amused, and pathetic to say the least. “A man who fears death himself shouldn’t be leader,” He whispered into the ears of the trembling man, exerting a bit of pressure on the wound which made Harold wince loudly in pain, “You should have know that before you came to my home, insulting my wife and my mother. You are no Don, Harold. You are a pussy.”

RAVAGERS WOLVES IN 3 DAYS. The pain in my head sharpened into a cold, lethal clarity. Harold hadn't just cheated, he’d lied about the game date to keep me away from the hotel. I scrolled down to the poster for the opposing team, the Ravagers Wolves. Standing front and center was the Wolves' Captain, Horace. He was Harold’s cousin and his most hated rival. He looked like a god of destruction, broad shoulders stretching his jersey, a jawline like granite, and icy blue eyes that promised no mercy.

Because he found that he couldn't take this powerful punch at all. "Rumble!" Lucas' fist, of course, hit Harold's body. All of a sudden, Harold flew backward quickly. All the students in the Genius Camp found that Harold had fallen to the ground. "Poof!" Harold spat out a mouthful of blood. "Lucas, you are really amazing." A deep expression of adoration appeared on Hattie's doll-like face. "What's going on?!" Suddenly, Charlie's voice sounded in everyone's ears. The students of the Genius Camp made way for him.

ANNE: THE SORCERER’S POV “This one’s fresh. Just how you like em’.” Harold said with his gold tooth shining like a medallion. He was a greedy bastard and the smile he gave me lasted on his face because he had been stupid enough to assure himself I was going to fall for his lame-ass tricks. “Let’s see it then,” I said keeping my face expressionless. He waved a hand that was big enough to smash a newborn into smidderins. I followed behind him as he walked into the storeroom which smelled worse than his breath.

Back in college the 'captain' would run out at the front with the rest of the team, showing he was leading the team but not here. As soon as the team cleared out here came the one player I was waiting for anxiously. Harold casually jogged out onto the field, his helmet in hand. I swore from here I could feel his confidence. This was his team, his field. My eyes took him in as he jogged towards the sidelines, directly in front of us. I bit my bottom lip at the sight of him in his football uniform. Harold in a uniform was hot. I wasn't even going to deny that his ass looked great in those pants either.

Harold appeared as the fake Darryl and the disciples could not see anything wrong at all! Harold tried to calm himself down and said casually to the disciples questioning him, "Hey, Senior Brothers! I'm going to discuss something with the Empress; you all may go." The disciples exchanged confused looks.