Trapped With My Hockey Nemesis

Dora's POV "Yo, Ellis, duck!" The first thing I see is a spinning puck flying my way, and my reflexes kicked in immediately, I lowered myself to the floor, and I felt the air rush past my hair as it missed me. "Nice one Dora." I hear someone else say as a strong arm brushed my arm lifting me up and pulling me in a bear hug. Tight arms wrapped around my back threatening to break me. "Bac…Beckett you are crushing me." I mumbled into his sweat soaked padded jersey, but he squeezed me a little bit too tight before pulling me off, my morning scent was immediately doused by male pheromones and aftermath of a finished game. Ugh why do I even bother to smell nice? When I was going to be huddled by sweaty boys who have no regard for a decent cologne. "Can you stop doing that? one day you will hit me and I will sue you." I said to the overly jolly Beckett Shaw who from the look of it, couldn't care less, he was smiling down at me, with his helmet and hockey stick in one hand. "Did you see us play on the ice? I am a god I tell you! Dora a literal god." He cheered even more while pulling his skates. I move over to help him as he was struggling to pull it off with his gloves on. "You have to remove the glove first Beckett." Somehow he never learns, he might be a god on the ice, but in here, it was like every one of them lost their senses in the locker room. "It's just so god damn tight." he countered but waving my head, all I can say is that he never truly learns, none of them ever did, well that was why I was here. To oversee that boys old enough to go to college, play sports as a career, and earn a degree don't get stuck while pulling their jerseys or get frustrated while pulling their skates. "There." The first skate fell off with ease, then I removed both his gloves, placed it beside him. "Try the other leg, I am not helping you with that, it smells like a squirrel walked into them and died." Scrunching my nose up I walked over, he chuckled. "Honestly I think one did." The noise of rattling sticks, scraping on the floor, mindless chatter from the rest of the players filled the room, but among all seven of them including the coach I caught the eye of just one. Troy Blackwood, in all his glory, waving his hair side to side in slow motion as sweat beads fall over his shoulders like little fan girls. For a moment everything slowed, and I could only see him. His lush mane, dark eyes and a body I had seen half naked one too many times made my mouth run dry. "Dora is here!" someone yelled as they ruffled my hair and just like that the moment stopped, more male pheromones filled the room, and my belly tumbled. Shit, I did it again, Troy walked into the room and the world stopped, I really need to stop doing that, I am supposed to hate him, to despise the earth he walked on. But my lust gets to me before any common sense. Troy Blackwood was a rude, self-absorbed bastard who could never see a girl as more than just a warm body, and I knew this because I had allowed myself to experience the firsthand embarrassment of confessing that I loved him. I kissed him. Yes, I hate myself, but I kissed the famous Troy Blackwood, and I would never forget the way he looked down at me with pure disgust like I was a pile of cow dung. "Snap out of your fantasies, Dora, I am not going to play any part in it." he had said. And he wasn't wrong, I had fantasized about him, about his closeness in the locker room, and about what I would call mixed signals. I was foolish because every one of them here was friendly, but I had a special likeness for him that was why it seemed like his attention was special. "So, Dora, what's our afternoon like?" Another player asked me. "Beckett, you have English lit in two hours, you asked me to remind you after the game." "Thanks, Ellis, you are a lifesaver." "Peter? Hmm, let me see, nothing for you here, so you are free for about two hours, but we all have to gather because we need to meet with the cheerleading team in two hours." "How about me?" "Uhm let me check." flipping through my board of schedule. "Yes, Andrew, your random weekly gift to your girlfriend. Today we have flowers, I called the florist on your behalf so her favorite is waiting for pickup." That was the last of my after-practice schedule. "What will I ever do without you, Dora Ellis? You are like some sort of organized angel." Andrew pulled my head and placed a kiss on my forehead. "I will get you a Kit Kat on my way back." He ruffled my hair. Once again, no regard that I had washed and styled my hair. I shouldn't even bother dressing up sometimes. But that doesn't matter. "Everyone meet me back at the student hall in two hours. We have a meeting remember, failure to do so—" "Will have their scheduled removed." They all say in unison. My cheeks burned a little too much. My job was done here. I looked over to Troy, and I saw him tucking his gear into his locker, his shirt half hanging on his razor-sharp shoulder. I had always fantasized about holding him and kissing every inch of his smooth skin. After what happened between us, he barely ever assigns his schedules to me, it was like he hated me a little bit more. He never smiled at any joke if it involved me. Which was fine, but we should be way past that now, because I have a message for him. "Troy, can we talk outside?" I said, biting my lips as those words fell out of my mouth. I held my board tight on my chest, so tight I could feel the blood slowly retreating from my knuckles. He jammed his locker, barely acknowledging me. He was obviously trying to avoid me. I moved a little bit closer to him, trying to limit the number of people who would hear me screaming out his personal issue. "It's your grades." I whispered when I got close enough. "Miss Augustine told me to—" "Yeah, she already told me." Cutting me off he rolled his eyes then walked back to his locker. I walked up to him again, resting on the locker this time, our eyes met but he looked away immediately. "I could organize a tutor for you, it's your second time flagging this course, you might have to take an extra year." He jammed his locker shut again making me flinch. "You do not have to organize my life for me, so quit being a pest." And just like that our little conversation died as Troy walked out of the locker room. I looked around, everyone was way too busy discussing among themselves that they didn't notice me being stood up. In freshman year, I would have been offended but it's fine because he was no longer the man I go home daydreaming about because I now have another crush who totally rocks my world. The famous Evan Mercer, student body vice president.