Puck Me, Stepbrother Dearest

4

[SELENA]

I woke up with a throbbing headache, my throat burns like it was scraped on sandpaper.

When I stirred, I realized I was in a strange room and there's a huge guy in a neon-threaded mask sitting at the edge of the bed.

Oh my God. What the hell happened?

I tried to piece last night together, but everything was blank. The last thing I remembered was dancing… and the scene after I spilled my drink on someone.

The masked guy stood slowly.

“You're awake.”

I gulped. “Who are you, and how the hell did we end up here?”

“Roy,” he said simply. “You should be more careful. Didn’t anyone tell you not to take drinks from strangers?”

My hand flew to my mouth when the memory hit harder. s**t. I really messed up.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “...for not.. taking advantage of me.”

He walked to the door, not even looking back. “Call a friend to take you home.”

“Wait! Can I, at least, see your face?”

He paused, hand on the doorknob.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly. “Just be careful.”

I wanted to say something more, but he was gone.

Who do I even call? Ingrid? Nichole?

Nah, They probably went home with whoever they met last night. And it's crazy I’ve been living with Axel for weeks and don’t even have his number.

Great. An Uber it is.

[AXEL]

After that night, something changed. I kept my distance, avoiding Selena like that would fix anything. Told myself it meant nothing. Just a stupid moment that got out of hand.

But that lie was getting harder to hold onto. She had no idea it was me, and it had to stay that way.

It’s been a week since the party, and I thought it’d be over; a one-time mistake I could bury. Then I overheard one of my teammates talking about more Halloween parties happening off campus.

I know I'm f****d.

I can't tell her to stop partying because there's a creep out there trying to hurt her. She'd panic.

Another party’s coming up this week, and I might not make it. Because surprise surprise, there's an obstacle in my way: ABN201.

After failing the pre-test, I realised the rumours were true.

Even Coach had said it on day one: “You want to stay on the roster? Then you have to make a C minus at least.”

Back then, I shrugged it off. I thought I’d wing it like I always had. But now? I was staring down the barrel of reality. ABN201 wasn’t just tough; it’s designed to destroy people like me.

The truth? I’ve always struggled with reading. Too many words and my brain just… shuts down. But the comprehension analysis in ABN201? It’s like reading another language.

At Baldwin, I had found a way around it. Her name was Lauren; the girl who handled grade records. I paid her, and made sure she was very satisfied, and in return, she nudged my grade from a fail to a D or C; enough to keep me on the team.

But here, there was no Lauren. No shortcuts.

And the more classes I attended, the more I realised I was drowning.

“Good game today, Axel,” Coach’s voice snapped me out of it. “You’ve got something special, kid. Honestly, you’re playing better than Carter already, and he’s the damn captain. Keep this up, and you’ll likely be the first to get signed by a big team out there,” he said with a grin.

The words hit deeper than I expected. It wasn’t often that someone believed in me. Most saw a screwup.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

His expression turned serious. “Which is exactly why I’m saying this. Don’t throw it away over ABN201. I’ve seen it happen. Guys with half your talent thrown off the roster because they couldn’t ace it. You’re too damn good for that.”

I swallowed hard. Deep down, he was right. Without hockey, I was nothing. It’s my only shot at building a life that didn’t revolve around my father’s money or my mother’s shame.

“Look,” he continued, lowering his voice. “I know you failed the pre-test and that’s why I'm offering you this opportunity again. If you need help, I’ll set you up with the best tutor. There’s no shame in it. Better get help now than regret it later.”

I hesitated. I’d never told anyone about my dyslexia. But I’m tired of pretending I’ve got it under control.

I took the card. “You really think it’ll work?”

“I don’t think,” he said, clapping my shoulder. “I know it will.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

The card stayed in my wallet for a full day. But the truth followed me everywhere. There was no way I could ace the final exam on my own.

So the next afternoon, I finally went.

The tutoring office was too quiet. I leaned against the counter while the front desk lady checked the schedule. Every second dragged.

“Today’s your lucky day,” she said, smiling. “The tutor’s here now.”

Lucky me. I was already about to walk out.

The door opened and my blood ran cold.

Selena froze in the doorway, eyes wide. “Axel?”

You gotta be f*****g kidding me.