Ice Trial: Mated To My Nerd Stepsister

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Sloane

He wants to make a deal with me? The ridiculousness of the situation hits me just as I force my eyes to meet his. I’m sure my legs are going soft, as he moves even closer.

‘Please don’t come any closer…’

“Y-you want to make a deal with me?” I ask, my hands grabbing at the edge of my shirt.

“Yes,” he confirms, arrogance dripping from his voice. “I’ve heard about you, Sloane Andrews. They say you’re the smartest kid in class.” He continues, but my ears block out the rest of his words. Has he heard about me? My heart does a double flip.

“Oh,” I mumble, not trusting myself to say more.

“Do my school work for me,” he demands, and I frown.

“That’s not allowed,” I point out. He laughs, a confident sound that echoes in the large gym room, making me feel a bit inferior. “Everything is possible when it comes to me.” He says.

I bite my lower lip hard. Of course. I wasn’t thinking. He is the almighty Castle Raemon after all, everything is possible when he is involved.

“But I can’t just–”

“I’ll grant you full immunity against bullies. No one will ever touch you as long as our deal lasts,” he offers, and I force the rest of my words back down my throat. Anger takes the place of the butterflies in my stomach.

Who does he think he is?

I try to think straight. In all honesty, his offer is tempting. For someone of my stature and looks, bullying comes naturally in the school. I have come to terms with it. But that doesn’t mean I liked it. Even though I try to act unaffected, I hate being picked on. I hate how everyone calls me a freak, and makes funny jokes about me. Except sometimes when Bertha is around me.

But the implications of his deal are also dire. As a scholarship student, I have to consider every action of mine, making sure I abide by every rule. Even though he spoke of the rules lightly, I know better than to accept the deal. Our individual status in the school is glaring to see. I am just a nerd, and he is a popular ice hockey player who has won many medals for the school. If trouble arises, I am not foolish to assume that the school won’t throw me under the bus for his sake.

“I–” I start to say.

“Think about it,” he cuts me off, sounding impatient. I jerk my head upwards. His eyes roam over my body, disinterest clear in them. My chest presses tight, and my toes twitch.

“You have three days to give me your answer.” With that, he leaves the gym.

I stand there, all the fighting drained out of my body. I feel small, pathetic, and just there…

My vision blurs as I leave the gym, and head out of the school to take a cab. I pay no attention to the students around, hugging myself instead and trying to stay out of everyone’s way. A leg trips me suddenly, and I fall to the ground, my elbow crashing against the hard ground.

“Watch where you’re going, freak,” a hard voice spits. I don’t turn around to see the speaker. I pull myself up, utter a barely audible apology and run out of the school. I hail a cab, and get in.

…

When I get home, a moving car is outside the place I’d called home ever since I was little. My heart jumps to my throat. Are we getting chased out? I pay the cab driver, and speed into the house, coming to a stop as I see my mom arranging some frames into boxes. There were several other boxes neatly arranged, sitting lazily on the ground. The tears spill down fast.

We are really getting kicked out.

“Mom,” I call out weakly, holding onto the strap of my bag, so hard that my knuckle turns white.

My mom—a petite woman with bright, sparkling eyes, and chestnut hair—looks over in my direction. The hurt I expect to see on her face is absent.

“Sloane dear, you’re back!” She says warmly, making my eyebrows knit in surprise. For someone getting kicked out, she sounds…happy. “Come, come help me arrange these things. We need to get there before sunset.” She waves me over. I push the door shut, and take robotic steps toward her.

“What are you talking about, Mom?” I ask, accepting the frame she hands over to me. It’s a picture of a younger me, and my mom smiling gently, her hand coddling my shoulder. I place the frame into an empty box.

My mother gives me a hesitant look, and avoids my gaze. “I’m getting married, baby.” She announces, and I freeze.

“You’re doing what?” I ask, hoping I’d heard wrong. My mother is getting married?

“Go get changed. A car will be here to pick us soon.” My mom shooes me towards my room, acting normal as if she just announced how calm the weather is. As if she didn’t just drop a bombshell on me.

“Who’s coming to pick us?” I ask, my voice small.

“Your stepfather is sending a car. Hurry now, dear.” She urges.

I head upstairs to my empty room, and find a pretty dress. I don’t allow myself to wonder where my mother got money to buy such a dress, as I strip off my clothes, and get into the bathroom. My shower is swift. When I’m finally done dressing, and come down again, my mother is waiting outside the house.

A man in a suit, opens the door to a luxurious car that makes me stare in dumbfound silence. Who the f**k is my mother getting married to? I turn to glance at the house once more, get into the car, and try not to glance at my mother who is grinning from ear to ear.

The ride to our destination is quiet, which I am thankful for. The headache has receded, but in its place, are sharp pangs of hunger. I am painfully reminded of the fact that I haven’t had lunch yet. As I rest my back against the car's backrest, my mind strays to my conversation with Castle.

“We are here,” my mother announces after a while. We must’ve been driving for a straight thirty minutes. Or more.

As my eyes land on the place she is pointing at, an involuntary gasp escapes my throat. I’m staring at a literal castle. A freaking castle!

I step down from the car, clutch nervously at the sides of my dress, and follow my mother’s lead, as she heads to the front entrance. Some of the people loitering around—presumably servants—bow as we walk past. I am confused by their actions. I dip my head, and keep my hands clasped in front of me. I am not wearing my glasses today, and I feel odd without them.

A pretty lady opens the smart door even before my mother knocks or rings, or whatever.

She bows without a word, and ushers us into a large waiting area. Yes, a waiting area because that’s what it looks like. It is painted in neutral colors, and is large enough to house the ice arena back in school. I am astounded at how wide it is. And how expensive everything looks. I feel out of place.

“Take a seat, Sloane. I’ll go get Zander,” my mother smiles at me, as she disappears through another door under the lead of the lady from earlier on. I clamp my legs together, and try to keep my thoughts around me.

A door opens, and I lift my head to see my supposed new stepfather. A tall figure walks in, a tight shirt hugging his frame.

“What are you–” I choke out, my mouth hanging open. The person standing in front of me is not an unfamiliar face. He’s definitely not the Zander my mother had said she was going to get.

Castle Raemon stares at me, a frown etching on his face.

“You? What are you doing here?” The question rolls off his tongue in that characteristic voice of his, his face holding no warmth at all.