Chapter 3
1095 Words
Zara POV
I avoided looking behind me the second I escaped that hallway. Which was ridiculous because normal people didn't flee after accidentally calling a dangerously attractive hockey captain. "Mr. YSL " to their faces. Captain with the C. Unfortunately for me, I was apparently not normal anymore.
"Zara!" I heard my aunt's voice behind me and it was then I realized I had left her behind. "How hot was he exactly that you had to lose your voice and mind?" She asked from behind and honestly ... I might as well scream across her face.
I turned back at her with pure annoyance. "Are you actually going to act like you don't know him? The guy you lied about?" I watched as her smiley face dissolved into shock. "Yeah, that's the reaction I want now."
She forced out a smile before she kissed my forehead quickly. "Call me later, baby. I have to go poppy shopping." "Oh really? Now you're ditching me?" Then she disappeared down the pathway dramatically while I stood there questioning every life choice that led me to WhiteDorchester. Welp!
Around me, students flooded the campus in groups wearing university colors and hockey jackets with that confidence I could never relate to. Everywhere I looked, there was something connected to hockey here and there. Even one stupid giant screen near the student center replayed hockey highlights while students cheered casually like this was a religion instead of a sport.
I checked my schedule again with deep resentment. INTRODUCTION TO SPORTS MEDIA WRITING. And lo, I was right in front of the hall.
The lecture hall buzzed loudly with conversations when I walked in, and instantly, I felt out of place. Most people already seemed familiar with one another, discussing games and athletes like they'd been born holding sticks. I quietly slipped into an empty seat near the middle row and pulled out my notebook.
"Are you new?"
I looked up to find a girl sliding into the seat beside mine with curly ginger hair and glossy lips. She smiled brightly before offering her hand.
"Lena."
"Zara."
"Cute name," she said instantly. "You look traumatized already."
"That obvious?"
"You're in sports journalism. Everyone here looks traumatized."
Okay ... Maybe she was funny. I relaxed slightly while she continued talking effortlessly.
"You transferred?"
"Yesterday."
"That explains the confusion," Lena laughed. "You still have hope in your eyes."
I snorted softly despite the drowning feeling in me. The classroom slowly filled while students continued gossiping loudly around us ... mostly about hockey. Unfortunately. A group of boys near the front suddenly started arguing about team rankings while someone else mentioned NHL scouts being on campus next month. Can anyone just shut the f**k up? I genuinely felt like I'd entered another species' ecosystem.
Lena leaned closer. "So who do you think you're getting assigned to?"
I frowned. "Assigned?"
Her eyes widened. "Oh my God. You really 'are' new." Before she could explain further, the professor walked in.
"That's Professor Maddox right there." She muttered, filling me as everyone became even more attentive.
Professor Maddox looked about fifty with tired eyes and the energy of a man surviving entirely on caffeine and disappointment. He dropped a stack of papers onto his desk before adjusting his glasses. "Welcome to Sports Media Writing," he began dryly. "Or as I like to call it, public humiliation with deadlines."
A few students laughed and right there ... I considered leaving through the window.
Professor Maddox continued speaking about course expectations while I scribbled fake notes just to look productive. Then came the sentence that ruined my peace permanently. "For your semester project," he announced, "each student will be assigned an athlete from one of WhiteDorchester's official sports teams. Your responsibility will be media coverage, interviews, feature articles, and player observation throughout the term."
Excuse me, Mister? Player observation?
Lena groaned dramatically beside me. "Please don't give me basketball players again. They flirt instead of answering questions." I blinked slowly. This entire department was insane.
Professor Maddox began reading names casually from his list while students reacted differently depending on the athlete assigned to them. I was mostly distracted trying to understand how hockey positions even worked when Lena leaned over suddenly. "If you get Kane Ashford," she whispered, "drop the class immediately."
My brows creased with confusion. "Kane Ashford? Who?"
"He's our newly assigned hot hockey captain."
I froze slightly. Was that Mr. Ysl? Of course his name would appear at the exact moment I was trying not to think about him. I kept my expression neutral. "Why?"
Lena stared at me like l'd asked why oxygen existed. "Because he's Kane Ashford." "That explains nothing." "His mother's literally Celeste Ashford." " ... Should I know who that is?" Lena stared at me in horror. "You live a very sheltered life."
I didn't know who Actress Kane Celeste was ... never heard of her, even. "He's impossible," she continued dramatically. "Hot? Yes. Unfortunately. But he hates media people. Last semester he walked out of three interviews because someone asked about his dating life." I tried not to look interested, but failed immediately.
Lena lowered her voice further. "One girl from campus media cried after interviewing him." "Cried?" I huffed. "He told her her questions were boring and then answered everything with one-word responses."
Okay. Maybe Mr. YSL was actually Satan. Which honestly tracked.
Professor Maddox kept reading names from his list while my stomach turned for absolutely no reason. I barely even knew the guy. Sure, he looked devastatingly attractive leaning against luxury cars while smelling like sinful cologne and poor decisions, but that meant nothing.
"Zara Reid." My head snapped upward instantly and professor Maddox adjusted his papers casually. "You'll be covering Hockey Captain Kane Ashford."
Silence. f*****g literal silence. And then suddenly half the class looked at my direction. Lena choked beside me so violently I almost hit her back. "Oh no," she said sympathetically.
Excuse me? Okay. Maybe everyone in this class needed psychiatric evaluation because why were they acting like I'd just been sentenced to death? A boy somewhere behind me muttered, "Good luck surviving that."
I stared at the professor in disbelief. "Wait, I-" "Assignments are final," Professor Maddox interrupted smoothly before I could even finish. What the f**k? I just resumed a few minutes ago! I could feel the heat rising up in my body.
Lena looked genuinely devastated for me. "That's brutal," she whispered.
"How bad can he possibly be?"
She blinked at me ... then: "You're new-new." Wonderful ... no, absolutely wonderful!
- Writer
