Alpha Nobody and Her Hockey Captain

First Lesson

Selena's POV

I couldn't stop smiling. No matter how many times I tried to hide it, the corners of my lips kept betraying me.

As I pushed the mop across the locker room floor, I caught Luther staring at me for what felt like the fifth time.

"...You're in a suspiciously good mood today."

"I am?" I blinked.

"You've been humming the same song for almost twenty minutes."

Had I?

I hadn't even realized. Maybe my wolf was happier than I was.

Tonight would be my first tutoring session with Ashford.

It wasn't exactly a date… But it was the first time we'd spent hours together without a classroom full of people watching us. That alone was enough to make my heart race.

Before I could drift off into another daydream, Female 3 appeared beside me carrying a broom.

"Hey, Nobody."

She flashed me a smile that immediately made me suspicious.

"Can you cover my section today?"

I looked at her with arched eyebrows.

"I've got a date,” She said and pushed the broom toward me. “I’ll owe you one."

Normally, I would've agreed without thinking. Extra work meant extra goodwill. Extra goodwill meant keeping my scholarship.

But today...

"I'm sorry. I can't,” I replied with remorse.

She blinked. Her eyebrows shot up. "...You can't?"

I slowly nodded. "I have somewhere I need to be."

The entire room seemed to pause. Even Luther looked over.

Female 3 stared at me as though I'd spoken another language.

"Since when have you had plans?"

A few volunteers laughed.

"She's actually busy?"

"Busy doing what?"

Heat crept onto my cheeks. "I really do have plans today. I'm sorry."

Female 3 narrowed her eyes before snatching her broom back.

"...Fine, you don't have to lie. I'll do it myself."

I smiled apologetically. "Thank you for understanding."

She muttered something under her breath as she walked away.

I glanced at the clock. 6:03 p.m. Only fifty-seven minutes left.

My stomach fluttered, and I quickly packed up to leave.

The evening breeze greeted me the moment I stepped outside the arena.

I hugged my backpack a little tighter and looked at the address Lecturer Kelvin had sent me earlier.

*Callaghan Fraternity House.*

My heart skipped.

The walk to the frat house wasn't long, but it felt endless. Every few steps, I mentally rehearsed today's lesson.

Start with Algebra… No... maybe ask which topics he's struggling with first. Don't lecture him. Don't stare at him. And for the love of the Moon Goddess, don't accidentally call him "mate."

By the time I reached the building, my palms were already damp.

The fraternity house was exactly what I expected from wealthy athletes.

It was three stories tall with large windows. The lawn was neatly trimmed, and several expensive cars were parked outside.

Even the front door looked like it cost more than my former neighborhood.

I swallowed. "This place is enormous."

Taking one last deep breath, I rang the bell. A few seconds later, the door swung open.

Ashford stood there wearing a plain black T-shirt and gray sweatpants.

His hair was still slightly damp, as though he'd just showered.

For a second, neither of us spoke.

"Oh..." he said first. "You actually came."

I blinked. "...Did you think I wouldn't?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I wasn't sure. Also, you looked really busy."

I smiled brightly. "I gave you my word. I don't break my promises."

His expression softened. "Right." He stepped aside and opened the door. "Come in."

I hesitated for only a moment before walking inside. The house was surprisingly quiet.

"I thought your roommates would be here,” I murmured as I looked around.

"They're out. They went to an after-party."

My footsteps stopped. "...Out?"

Ashford immediately noticed my expression.

"They won't be back for another hour or two," he explained calmly. "If you're uncomfortable, we can study somewhere else."

I quickly shook my head. "N-No... it's fine."

Was it?

My wolf snickered. "Alone with our mate. This is fate."

Ashford led me upstairs. His room was much simpler than I'd imagined.

There was a king-size bed in the center. A study desk. And shelves filled with hockey trophies and medals.

There were several framed photographs, and one caught my attention.

A much younger Ashford stood beside a man, his father, wearing an Olympic jersey.

"You can sit anywhere," Ashford said.

I quickly looked away from the picture and sat at the desk. He took the chair opposite me.

An awkward silence settled in the room. We both stared at each other, unsure of how to start.

I cleared my throat. "So..."

"So..." he echoed.

Another silence.

I immediately opened my backpack before things became even stranger.

"Let's begin."

Ashford nodded so quickly that I almost laughed. "Please start."

I placed my notebook between us. "General Mathematics."

His shoulders visibly dropped. "I already hate this."

"You haven't even seen the questions."

"I don't need to." He sighed dramatically. "I've hated mathematics since I was a kid."

I raised an eyebrow. "So you've already decided you'll fail?"

"No." He leaned back. "I've decided mathematics hates me."

I couldn't stop a small laugh from escaping.

His eyes lifted toward me. "What's funny?"

"Nothing." I grinned. "I've just never heard someone blame a subject before."

"I'm serious,” he murmured and folded his arms. "I can calculate skating angles. I can memorize over a hundred hockey strategies. I even remember every opponent's play style. But numbers on paper?"

He pointed at my notebook. "They're evil."

I stared at him for a moment. Then realization slowly dawned. He wasn't lazy or unintelligent. He'd already convinced himself he couldn't do it. That was completely different.

I slid the notebook closer to him. "Let's try something."

He sighed like a man walking toward his execution. "I suppose I don't have a choice."

I smiled, enjoying where our conversation was headed. "No. You really don't."

For the first time since we'd met, Ashford laughed. It wasn't loud. Just one quiet chuckle. But somehow, it brought a bright smile to my face.

“I'm different from what you'd imagined, right?” he asked after submitting the exercise I gave him.

I was caught off guard by his question. “Hmm… no. I mean, I didn't imagine anything bad,” I stammered.

Ashford chuckled. “Before you came, I read about tutors. And I'm trying to be as respectful as possible to learn the best.”

“Thanks.” I nodded and scored his exercise.

His phone rang, and although he didn't pick up, a notification from his father popped up on his screen.

Ashford stood up with his phone and immediately walked toward the balcony outside his room.

"I'll be back in a minute."

I nodded. "Take your time."

The glass door slid shut behind him.

At first, I tried not to pay attention. It wasn't my business. So I looked down at the worksheet instead. Out of the ten questions I'd given him, he'd gotten seven right.

Not bad. Actually, he did much better than I'd expected. I circled one of his mistakes.

"You knew the formula," I whispered to myself. "You just changed your answer."

Ashford's faint voice drifted in from the balcony.

"...I said I'm handling it."

His voice sounded calm, but I could sense anger bubbling inside him.

I didn't mean to listen, but the room was quiet enough that bits and pieces reached my ears.

"No."

A pause.

"I'm not asking him."

Another silence.

"I don't care what he thinks. It's my life and my business."

I looked toward the glass door. His back was facing me. One hand rested on the railing while the other gripped his phone tightly.

Even from inside the room, I could tell his shoulders had become rigid.

"...I'm not him."

His voice was lower this time.

"I'll pass the course myself."

Another pause.

"I said goodbye."

The call ended.

For a few seconds, he didn't move. He simply stood there staring into the distance.

Something about that lonely figure made my chest tighten. He looked emotionally tired.

A minute later, he walked back inside wearing the same polite smile as before.

"I'm sorry." He apologized.

I offered him a smile. "It's okay."

Neither of us mentioned the phone call.

He sat opposite me again. "Where were we?"

I tapped the worksheet. "Question four."

He leaned forward, and I explained the method step by step.

This time, instead of memorizing it, he actually listened.

Every few minutes he'd interrupt.

"Why did you divide there?"

"What happens if the value is negative?"

"Can this question be solved another way?"

I smiled without realizing it. Most students only wanted answers. Ashford wanted to understand.

Nearly an hour passed before I closed the notebook. I gently tapped the table, thinking of the right way to give him my feedback without sounding offensive.

“Ashford, if you want to pass general mathematics, you must not be scared to make mistakes. I notice that you missed some of the exercises not because you didn't know the answer, but because you tried to use new formulas," I explained to him.

His smile slowly faded. For a brief second, something vulnerable flashed across his face.

"My father never liked mistakes."

The words slipped out before he could stop them.

The room became quiet instantly, and he looked away.

"I didn't mean to say that."

I lowered my voice. "You don't have to explain."

He let out a quiet breath. "My father believes second place is another word for failure,” he paused. “...I use new formulas because I don't want the old ones to fail me. I can't afford to be a failure."

I didn't know what to say. I'd been in his situation before, and I understood his fears.

"My parents weren't like that," I said softly. "They just... weren't around."

Ashford looked at me. "They left?"

I nodded. "A long time ago.”

Neither of us spoke after that. It was strange. An hour ago we couldn't even hold a conversation.

Now we were talking about things neither of us usually shared.

Ashford broke the silence first. "I guess we're both terrible at family."

A small laugh escaped me. "I guess we are."

He smiled too. It wasn't the polite smile he gave strangers. It reached his eyes, and I found myself smiling back.

A loud knock suddenly echoed through the house.

"They're back," Ashford muttered.

Voices filled the hallway. Someone laughed loudly downstairs.

"Captain Goals!"

Another voice shouted, "Did you seriously study on a Friday night? Or are you doing something else in your room?"

Ashford pinched the bridge of his nose.

"...Idiots."

I giggled. "I should probably leave."

He nodded. "Yeah. I'll walk you out."

We packed my books and headed downstairs together.

Just as we stepped outside the fraternity house, two familiar figures across the road froze.

It was Bella and Gabriel.

Bella's eyes darted from me...to Ashford standing beside me.

Her expression darkened. "So the rumours were true," she whispered.

Gabriel rested one shoulder against his car, silently watching us.

His gaze lingered on me for several seconds before shifting to Ashford.

The corner of his lips slowly curled upward.

"...Wow. Miss Nobody wants to be somebody. How ambitious."

For reasons I couldn't explain, the way he said that sent a chill down my spine.

“We weren't doing anything wrong…” I stuttered before anyone could get the wrong idea.