Page 56 of Offside Attraction

A small smile tugs at my lips as I pull up outside Crestview’s pristine entrance. Through the windshield, students spill out of luxury cars, uniforms pressed and perfect. Harper’s friend—pigtails bouncing—walks toward my car with an eager grin.

“I gotta go,” Harper says, opening the door. She pauses, leaning back in through the open window. “You have practice after school?”

“Yeah. Call Mom to pick you up.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, Dakota,” Gwen says, offering a polite smile and a small wave.

I nod once, already rolling up the window.

Through the glass, I watch Harper link arms with her friend as they merge into the crowd heading toward Crestview Prep’s double doors.

I reach into the glove compartment, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. One cigarette slips easily between mylips. I light it, sinking back into the leather seat—too expensive for my liking—and inhale.

The nicotine hits my brain.

And for a moment, everything else quiets.

I feel good—better than I did an hour ago—as I take a few final drags of my cigarette. I pull the butt from my lips and crush it into the small ashtray in my car before turning off the engine. From the glove compartment, I take out a small bottle of cologne and spray a little on myself, just enough to mask the scent of smoke.

I step out of the car, shut the door, and sling my backpack over one shoulder before heading toward the doors of Crestview Preparatory.

The hallways are quieter than usual. Most students are already in homeroom or seated in their classrooms, the building humming softly with distant chatter and footsteps.

It’s Monday.

The day I’m expected to carry out Hayes’s dare.

On Saturday, at our so-called team bonding party, I agreed to a one-on-one game with my worst enemy—and I lost. Part of me knew I would. But that stubborn, competitive side of me, the one that refuses to back down from Hayes Griffin, convinced me otherwise.

The dare is impossible. And unfair.

Hayes dared me to skate a full lap around the rink after school—blindfolded. At full speed. Without crashing into the boards. To make things worse,hewould be my guide, shouting directions from the sidelines.

And if I fail—if I crash, hesitate, or back out—I’ll have to apologize to Hayes in front of the entire team. For challenging him.

But if I win?

He’ll do whatever I want.

The moment he laid out the dare, I argued. Told him it was reckless. Told him it was bullshit. Hayes just laughed, smug and taunting, and told me I could back down if I wanted.

And now—standing here, walking through these halls—I’m seriously considering it. Backing down. Because putting my life in the hands of my enemy? Letting Hayes Griffin blindfold me andguideme?

That’s beyond stupid.

We hate each other. We can barely exist in the same space without wanting to tear each other apart. And Hayes isn’t the kind of guy who passes up an opportunity to take advantage of weakness.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

He knew I’d rather risk breaking my neck than swallow my pride and apologize.

Speak of the devil.

I round the corner, my eyes already fixed on my locker—and there he is.

Hayes Griffin. Leaning against it like it belongs to him.