Hockey Booktok Controversy นิยาย & เรื่องราว

He yelped and let go. “What are you trying to do? slap her?” a deep voice asked. The rescuer stepped into view. Hades Deville Of Bennet Blades. Hockey captain of our school rival. The guy everyone whispered about. “What the hell, man?” one of the older men spat, red-faced. “She’s just some fat chick,” his friend jeered. “You don’t talk to women like that. Show some respect,” Hades barked. “Apologize.” “Uh… I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” the man stammered. His eyes met mine briefly—too briefly—and my heart skipped.

"The coaching staff is expecting him." "The coaching staff will need to adjust," Mila said calmly. "Putting him on the ice for Thursday is a short-term fix that creates a long-term problem, and I won't sign off on it." "Dr. Torres," Sandra said, folding her hands on the desk, "I understand your position, but you need to understand mine. The game has implications beyond the scoreboard. There are people watching this team very closely right now and having Cole Hendrix on that ice will send a message."

Two other board members were present. “Take a seat,” she said. I sat. She didn’t waste time. “We’ve reviewed the videos and the social media fallout. The university has a reputation to uphold, especially with major donors watching the hockey program closely. Explain yourself.” I swallowed hard. “It was… a private argument between me and my boyfriend,” I said, forcing the word out. “Asher Hayes. Things got heated. We’re still figuring things out. It won’t happen again.” The Dean raised an eyebrow. “Boyfriend?”

"Who else felt I was being excessive?" Silence. Not a single hand went up. Not a single voice answered. But their eyes did. Every one of them believed I had crossed the line. I nodded faintly. I leaned forward slightly. "Hockey is a sacred game." The room became even quieter. "Winning is important..." I paused, allowing every word to settle inside their minds. "...but losing your honor in the process makes it absolute trash." No one dared interrupt. "Sure, clashes and injuries on the rink are normal. They happen. They're part of the game. But repeatedly targeting another player simply because you noticed they had an injury..."

From his expression and the fact that he wasn't freaking out right now, he was just fucking confused why we were even here together in the first place. Still, I made a mental note to be more careful next time. I had no problem with my sexuality, but I also wasn’t an idiot to be extremely open about it while being active in a sport like hockey. The whole story Matt had been spreading about me that I had gotten my dick sucked at some frat party by a guy was complete bullshit. I wasn’t reckless enough to let that happen. If we kept getting sloppy, someone was going to put two and two together, and I wasn’t ready to have NHL scouts questioning whether I was here to play hockey or make headlines

Austin's POV The coach’s office was quiet when I walked in. But his expression told me that something was wrong. “Austin,” he said, solemnly. “The organizers just called. The next match is canceled.” I froze. “Canceled? Why?” He turned the laptop toward me. On the screen, a dozen headlines glared back: ‘Werewolf Player Exposed.’ ‘Dangerous Creature Allowed on the Ice?’ ‘Public Calls for Boycott.’ My jaw tightened. The anonymous T*****r post was everywhere. My name, my footage, twisted into something monstrous.

This was never just some accident. “You said you did this to help you earn through hockey, that any guy would do,” I say, my voice low but razor-sharp. “Is that the truth?” He doesn’t blink, doesn’t shift. The silence that follows is heavier than anything else in this conversation. “Rook...” “Don’t fucking Rook me.” My voice rises, my breath sharp and uneven. “Was it really about hockey? Or did you set this up years ago? Did you plan this? Did you decide back then that Mercer was yours to fucking control?”

Noah said, exhaustion sharpening the edge in his gaze. Chase shrugged without an ounce of sympathy. “Sounds like a conditioning issue.” For a moment, Noah imagined smashing his face into the projector screen. Instead, he took in a really deep breath, walked past the rows of chairs, and dropped into an empty seat near the back. Coach Jenkins eyed both of them for a second before shaking his head. “Can we review hockey without the testosterone poisoning the room for once?” “All right,” Chase said, clapping his hands once as the footage resumed. “Since some people decided to grace us with their presence late, let’s continue.”