Enemies Wear Hockey Jackets: A High School Rivalry

Cassey Winfield I’m Cassey Winfield. Just a regular teenage girl. No tragic backstory. No silver spoon. No dramatic destiny written in the stars. I went to school, worked part time, minded my business, and tried to be a decent human being. Which, apparently, was my first mistake. Because the moment I decided to be a Good Samaritan, my life took a sharp left turn straight into chaos. It started on a perfectly normal Monday. Clear skies. Fresh coffee. Playlist blasting as I drove into the school parking lot in my pride and joy. My car. The one my mom cried over when she handed me the keys on my eighteenth birthday. Not new, not fancy, but mine. I parked, grabbed my bag, and that’s when I saw it. The dent. Right on the driver’s side. Ugly. Fresh. Like someone had slammed their door into it without a care in the world. I stood there for a second, blinking, hoping my eyes were lying to me. They weren’t. My chest tightened. My fingers curled. I ran my hand over the metal like it might magically smooth itself out if I touched it enough. “No,” I whispered. “No, no, no…” That’s when I noticed the car parked beside mine. Sleek. Black. Expensive enough to make my bank account cry. And right there on its passenger door? A smear of silver paint. My paint. I turned just in time to see him walking away like he hadn’t just wrecked my morning. Tall. Broad shoulders. Hockey jacket slung over one arm like he owned the place. Blond hair, sharp jaw, arrogant stride. The transfer student. Marvin Woods. He’d arrived barely two weeks ago and already managed to take over the entire school. New kid, instant hockey captain, golden boy smile, and an ego the size of the rink. “Hey!” I called after him. He didn’t stop. Oh, that did it. I marched after him, heart pounding, anger fueling my steps. “Excuse me!” I shouted louder. He stopped then. Slowly. Like he was doing me a favor. He turned, one brow lifting as his gaze dragged over me in open boredom. “What’s wrong, Cass?” he said casually. “You can fix a little dent, can’t you?” I stared at him. The nerve. “The dent you caused?” I shot back. “Yeah, sure. Right after you pay for it.” His lips twitched. Not apologetic. Not embarrassed. Amused. “Fix the dent, Mr. Woods,” I added sharply, crossing my arms. “And we won’t have a problem, nice boy.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. For a split second, something dark flickered in his eyes. Then he smirked. Slow. Lazy. Infuriating. His jaw flexed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, like he was savoring the moment. I hated that my body reacted. That my breath caught. That my feet rooted to the ground. “Well, Miss Cass,” he said coolly, “I don’t have time for you today. I’ve got a meeting with the coach, and you’re wasting my time.” He leaned closer, voice dropping. “Move.” I laughed. Actually laughed. The sound surprised even me. “This boy really thinks I’m scared of him,” I muttered. “Pay for the dent,” I said firmly, locking eyes with him. “And I’ll let you be.” That’s when the universe decided to pile on. The passenger door of his car opened, and out popped the coach’s daughter. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Designer bag dangling from her arm like it cost more than my rent. She looked me up and down, nose wrinkling like she’d stepped in something unpleasant. Then she smiled sweetly at Marvin. “Babe,” she said softly, wrapping an arm around his. “You know how my dad gets. Let’s go.” Ah. Everything clicked. Of course the hockey captain was dating the coach’s daughter. Of course. Marvin sighed dramatically, like this was the real inconvenience. He turned back to his car, reached inside, and pulled out a checkbook. He scribbled something down without even glancing at me, then ripped the check out and shoved it into my hand. “Here’s some change for you, Cass,” he said lazily. “Figured since it’s almost the festive season, I’d donate to charity.” Charity. I stared at the check. Then at him. Then I laughed. Not a polite laugh. Not a nervous one. A full, unapologetic laugh that turned a few heads around the parking lot. “Wow,” I said between breaths. “You really wake up every morning and choose to be this person, huh?” His smirk faltered just a little. I folded the check and tucked it into my pocket. “Thanks for the donation, Mr. Woods. The charity appreciates it.” I stepped aside, letting him pass. That’s when I felt it. That strange sensation you get when someone’s eyes are on you. I looked up. And froze. His twin brother sat a few spaces away, leaning against his own car. Same blond hair. Same strong build. Same last name stitched onto his jacket. But that’s where the similarities ended. Where Marvin was loud and careless, his twin was quiet. Still. Watching me like he was piecing something together. He didn’t smirk. Didn’t laugh. He just studied me. My stomach flipped. I’d had a crush on him once. Everyone knew it. He was the calm one. The reserved one. The one who spoke with his eyes more than his mouth. But somewhere along the line, he’d grown distant. Pulled away. Built walls no one was allowed to climb. I broke eye contact first. Ancient history. I got back into my car and parked properly, hands trembling slightly as I turned off the engine. I told myself it was over. I was wrong. The whispers started before lunch. “Did you hear Cass went off on Marvin Woods?” “She blocked him in the parking lot.” “Apparently she made him pay.” “No way.” I kept my head down, gripping my tray as I slid into my usual seat. My best friend slid in beside me moments later, eyes wide. “Cass,” she hissed. “What did you do?” “I demanded accountability,” I muttered. “Apparently that’s illegal now.” She snorted. “Girl, you’re a legend.” I didn’t feel like one. Across the cafeteria, Marvin sat at the hockey table, arm slung around the coach’s daughter like nothing had happened. He laughed loudly, confidence radiating off him. Then his gaze met mine. His smile was sharp. A challenge. And just behind him, his twin sat quietly, eyes flicking to me for half a second longer than necessary before he looked away. My chest tightened. Something told me this was only the beginning. And whatever war Marvin Woods had just declared? I wasn’t backing down.