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Chapter three
Trayton
“ T here’s my baby.” I grin, sprinting toward Brayden. It feels like an eternity since I’ve seen him, though it’s only been a little over two weeks. Brayden’s face ignites the entire locker room as he smiles, and I barrel into him, sending us both crashing into the lockers. “Never leave me that long again,” I say with fake tears. “I was nothing without you.” I hear Brayden laugh.
“Stop hogging.” Kal’s deep voice comes from behind, shoving me off Brayden and pulling him into a fierce bro hug that somehow swallows Brayden’s six-foot-three frame. Kal is only a couple of inches taller than Bray, but he’s got a good fifty pounds on both of us. Fifty pounds of pure muscle. Both of them slap each other’s backs. As Kal steps back, I finally get a good look at Bray, and that gnawing ache in my stomach eases. I’d had that gut feeling like something was off, but I couldn’t pinpoint what. It turns out, it was Brayden.
I was terrified he wouldn’t be okay. I’ve seen Brayden and Kal nearly every day since we were eleven. Since we met on the ice, when I noticed how off Brayden’s form was from a mile away.
I didn’t hold back; I went right over and told him where he was going wrong. And I remember that day, seeing something in his eyes that made me want to help him—not just with his form, but with everything.
As the locker room buzzes with the usual pre-training energy, Brayden’s face relaxes into a genuine smile. He pulls out his phone and shows us a picture of him and Bohdi from their London trip, both of their eyes sparkling with happiness. “Yo, London was incredible! We went to all these cool places, and—oh, I got you both something,” he says, digging into his bag.
Kal and I exchange curious glances as Brayden hands us each a small, neatly wrapped package. I tear mine open to find a keychain with a miniature Big Ben. Kal’s got the iconic red London bus. “Thought you’d like a piece of London with you.” Brayden grins.
“Thanks, man,” Kal says, his usual stern expression softening for a moment. “But don’t think this makes up for ditching us for a whole two weeks.”
“Yeah, you’ve got a lot to make up for on the ice,” I add, smirking.
Brayden laughs, putting away his phone and slipping into his gear. “Better get ready then. I’ve got a lot of energy to burn.” He winks.
“Is Bohdi’s stamina not what you thought, no?” I tease.
Brayden throws his head back, laughing, before flipping me off.
As we suit up, Coach walks in, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. “All right, team! We’ve got a lot of ground to cover today, so let’s make it count. Brayden, welcome back. Hope you didn’t lose your edge in London.”
“No way, Coach,” Brayden replies, determination etched on his face. There’s still a slight awkwardness between Coach and Brayden since everything that happened last year. I guess Coach finding out his best friend from when they were kids was fucking his nineteen-year-old star player didn’t go down well, and Coach still hasn’t let it go. It’s a shame because the connection and love between Bohdi and Brayden is clear to see. And that’s coming from someone who doesn’t believe in love.
As the team hits the ice, the familiar sound of skates cutting through the rink fills the air. Brayden takes a quick lap around, testing his legs after the two weeks off. Kal and I exchange a glance. I’ve missed this fucker.
“Hey, Bray, you sure you didn’t gain a few pounds of fat on that London trip?” I call out, my voice echoing through the rink.
Brayden laughs, shaking his head. “Only in your dreams, Tray. You’re just jealous I got to eat proper fish and chips.”
Kal chimes in, smirking. “Watch it, Trayton. Bray’s got that post-vacation energy. You’re in for a workout.”
“Bring it on,” I reply, grinning as I pick up speed. “I’m not the one who spent a week sipping tea.”
Brayden skates over and nudges me. “You’d love it there, Tray. All the posh accents and fancy buildings. Maybe you’d finally learn some manners.”
“Oh, I’ve got manners,” I retort. “I’m just saving them for when it really matters—like beating your ass in practice.”
The banter continues as we weave through drills, our competitive spirits pushing each other harder. Coach Denny keeps a watchful eye, occasionally yelling out pointers but mostly letting us drive each other.
At one point, Brayden and I race to the puck, our skates throwing up ice shavings as we battle for control. He manages to hook it away, flashing a triumphant grin.
“Still got it,” he boasts.
“For now,” I shoot back, panting slightly. “Just wait till the next drill.”
Kal skates over, joining. “Hope London didn’t make you soft, Bray. We’ve got games to win.”
“The Quake is back, boys, just you wait and see,” Brayden says, his eyes full of determination.
The rest of practice flies by in a blur of speed, laughter, and terrorizing each other. The bond between us growing stronger with every pass, every shot, every moment on the ice.
“Yo.” Cope strides over to me, Kal, and Bray once we’re back in the locker room, his expression a mix of excitement and unease. “Good to have you back.” Cope pulls Bray into a tight hug.
“Good to be back,” Bray replies, his smile lighting up his face. “You missing having the best roomy?”
Kal scoffs, and I can’t help but grin because we all know Cope is living his best life without Bray around.
“You’re fucking joking, ain’t ya, boy? I’ve never had so much uninterrupted sleep in my life. And it’s a relief not to wake up to random bare asses.” Laughter erupts around us, but Cope slaps Brayden on the back playfully. “Of course I miss you,” he adds softly, making Bray’s smile turn shy. Sometimes, I think Bray forgets how deeply he’s loved by so many. The guy is so pure it makes me wonder how I got so lucky to have him as not only a best friend but a fucking brother.
“On that note of roomies.” Cope scratches his head, a hint of tension in his voice. “I’ve got a new one.”
“Bad luck,” I retort. “We all knew the dean wasn’t going to let that room stay empty for long.” I glance at Kal, who’s gone rigid beside me at the mention of the new roomie. I squint my eyes at him and nudge him, but he just looks at me tight-lipped, then shifts his gaze to Brayden and finally to Cope.
“It’s Daxton Rivers,” Cope mumbles. The name hangs in the air like a thunderclap, and everyone’s eyes snap to me. Something inside me detonates with those three words.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I scream, my voice echoing with raw fury.
“Trayton,” Kal growls, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.
“Shut up,” I spit out, my voice dripping with venom. “We’re not on the ice anymore, Cap .” I know he hates being called Cap by me and Bray. Kal is a born leader. That was always obvious from the moment I met him outside the ice rink when we were kids. He stormed up to me, even then, with that broody look in his eyes. For the first time in my life, I felt intimidated. He basically told me I was going to do drills with him. He barked orders at me the whole time, but I couldn’t help but follow every word that flowed from his mouth without hesitation.
Nowadays, that’s changed. You soon come to find, under that hard exterior, Kal is a fucking teddy bear who loves his friends more than life. So I just about listen to him on the ice. That’s as far as it goes.
“We’re in the fucking locker room, you dick,” he snaps, wrapping his hand in a firm grip on my shoulder. “Don’t start, Trayton.”
“Don’t start?” I laugh, throwing my head back.
Bray groans. “You telling Tray not to start is like waving Vin Diesel’s ass in Tray’s face and telling him he can’t bite it. He’s gonna fucking bite it.”
“Daxton fucking Rivers is staying in the fucking dorms? In my teammate’s room? How? Why?” I demand, my eyes boring into Kal. I know exactly why he went rigid—because he fucking knows. His dad is the highest on the board at this uni. I can guarantee it was his dad who gave the approval for it.
“I will talk to you like an adult when you calm the fuck down,” Kal grits out.
“How can you be okay with this, Bray?” I turn my attention to Brayden, whose eyes soften.
“You know it’s not his fault, Tray.”
“It’s his family’s, which makes it his. He didn’t stop them, Bray. He sat right beside them and joined in whatever fuckery they were up to. He has Bexley’s blood on his hands just as much as his low-life father and uncle.” I spit the words out, each one laced with bitterness.
Brayden flinches. “Hey, shut the fuck up and sit down,” Kal says. “I won’t hesitate to drop-kick your ass if you carry on.”
“I don’t get how you can all be okay with this.” I throw my hands up in exasperation. “He’s the scum of the earth.”
“Look,” Brayden begins, but he’s interrupted by Coach.
“Trayton, please tell me why you can’t ever keep that fucking trap shut. Not even for five fucking minutes.” He groans. “What are you moaning about now?”
“The piece of scum that is Daxton fucking Rivers, that’s who.”
“Trayton,” Coach barks, “I need you to come—”
“If I’m a piece of scum, then you’re the whole fucking sewer.” Everything inside me freezes—even my breathing. I turn slowly on my heels, facing the one person I despise most on this earth. The one face that makes my fists itch to connect every time I catch a glimpse of it around campus.
Daxton Rivers glares back at me with a hatred so intense it could burn through steel. Gone is the quivering mess who cried beneath my blows last year. Gone is the guy with the permanently sad face, the one who wouldn’t say boo to a ghost. Now, Daxton Rivers vibrates with rage, his eyes flashing with murderous intent. His jet-black hair, now shorter, sweeps off his head in a near-perfect style, yet still looks like he’s run his fingers through it, with the loose strands hanging over his eyes. His bright-green eyes, edged with darkness, that remind me of a viper, lock onto me. New tattoos peek out from under his oversize sweater, dark, black swirls wrapping around his neck. He’s like some brooding avenging angel. Pft. More like devil.
“What did you just say, Quiet Boy?” I snarl, my voice low and menacing. “Trayton, Daxton.” Dean Miller, who stands beside Daxton, gestures toward Coach’s office. “Office, now!” he bellows, his voice echoing through the locker room. A sinister smile spreads across my face. Whatever I just saw in Daxton’s eyes has slightly dampened my anger. All I can think about now is the thrill of ruining this guy and making him regret ever stepping foot in Hawksview University.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4 (Reading here)
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47