Chapter 25: Tournament Week

Aveline’s POV

Tournament week at Crestwood Academy felt less like school and more like a countdown to war. Every hallway buzzed with tension. Students wore Crestwood hockey jackets like armor, teachers gave up pretending anyone cared about academics, and giant blue-and-silver banners hung across campus screaming BEAT WESTBRIDGE in aggressive block letters. Even the air felt sharper. Meaner.

Because Westbridge Academy wasn’t just another rival school. Westbridge was the rival school. The kind of rivalry built on broken noses, championship losses, and rich boys with generational anger issues. And apparently this year’s tournament mattered more than usual because NHL scouts were coming. Real ones. Important enough that even Coach Donovan looked two seconds away from cardiac arrest.

“Again!” he barked across the rink for what felt like the fiftieth time that afternoon. “You call that defense? My grandmother skates harder than this!”

Milo looked offended from the bench. “Your grandmother sounds terrifying.”

“She is,” Theo muttered.

Practice continued brutally. Players slammed into the boards hard enough to shake the glass while reporters crowded the upper stands snapping photos every time Kieran touched the puck. That part annoyed me irrationally. Everywhere Kieran went lately, cameras followed. Students whispered when he walked through campus, sports blogs posted daily updates about him, and scouts showed up to practices specifically to watch him skate.

Kieran Hampton wasn’t just Crestwood’s captain anymore.

He was becoming a brand.

And somehow he still found time to stress me out personally.

I adjusted the Titan mascot head beneath my arm while trying not to stare at him during drills. Failed immediately. Because Kieran looked unfairly good on ice. Fast. Controlled. Violent in a beautiful way. It was deeply irritating.

“Your staring problem is getting obvious.”

I nearly jumped. Theo stood beside me holding two water bottles.

“I was not staring.”

“You absolutely were.”

“I was observing thats the right word.”

Theo snorted. “That sounded fake even to you.”

I grabbed the water bottle from him aggressively. Tournament week had somehow made Theo even clingier than usual. He hovered constantly now, walked me to class, sat beside me during lunch, and texted me things like don’t disappear today without explanation.

It should’ve been comforting.

Instead it made me nervous.

Because Theo noticed things easily .

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

I blinked. “Why?”

“You’ve been distracted for days.”

That was because my life currently resembled a psychological horror film. I was pretending to be my comatose twin brother while developing feelings for the same idiot I suspected hurt him.

So no.

I was not okay.

“Just tired,” I lied.

Theo didn’t look convinced.

Before he could push further, Coach screamed my name from across the rink.

“Carter! Mascot gear!”

I muttered something deeply unholy under my breath. Theo laughed.

Unfortunately, humiliation remained part of my daily routine.

Ten minutes later I stood near center ice wearing the oversized Titan wolf costume while Crestwood’s hockey team ran drills around me.

Milo nearly crashed into me intentionally. “Careful, mascot,” he yelled dramatically. “You’re dangerously fluffy today.”

I shoulder-checked him hard enough to nearly throw him off balance. The team burst out laughing.

Milo pointed accusingly. “Hampton! Your emotional support mascot assaulted me!”

Kieran skated past slowly, eyes landing on me instantly before dropping to Milo sprawled dramatically against the boards. “You probably deserved it.”

The grin that spread across Milo’s face was immediate. “Oh my God, the favoritism continues.”

Heat crawled up my neck instantly. Landon barked out a laugh nearby while even Theo looked annoyed.

And suddenly I realized something terrible.

People were noticing. But the way Kieran treated me now.

The way his attention always found me first. The way he hovered. Protected. Watched.

Daphne cornered me after practice ended, which honestly should’ve terrified me more than it did because Daphne Sinclair noticed everything.

“You and Kieran are you a thing ....,” she announced immediately while we walked through campus.

I sighed heavily. “What the fuck , why will you think that".

“He acts different around you.”

“No he doesn’t.”

“He absolutely does.”

I walked faster. Daphne followed easily.

“You know he glared at Brent Holloway for making fun of your mascot costume yesterday?”

I froze slightly. “What?”

“He almost murdered him with eye contact.”

My stomach betrayed me immediately.

Daphne studied my face carefully before narrowing her eyes. " maybe he is the one with the feelings.”

"i laughed so hard how can Hampton have feelings for me , he straight anything between us is mutual friendship".

Daphne laughed softly, but her expression shifted"if you say so"

The film session somehow felt more intense than practice. Westbridge highlights played repeatedly across the massive screen while Coach paced furiously in front of the team.

“They hit hard,” he barked. “They play dirty. And if you hesitate against them, they’ll bury you.”

Nobody laughed.

Because Westbridge Academy had a reputation. Violent games. Cheap shots. Broken bones. Even the reporters covering the tournament called it the most aggressive high school rivalry in Connecticut.

Comforting.

I sat near the back taking notes while the team watched footage silently. Kieran looked exhausted. The pressure surrounding him had become impossible to ignore lately. Scouts. Media. Expectations. Every mistake he made now ended up online within hours.

And somehow he still carried himself like he could handle all of it.

I wasn’t sure whether that made him impressive or insane.

Probably both.

Coach paused the footage suddenly. “Hampton.”

Kieran looked up.

“This tournament determines everything.”

The entire room went still.

Coach rarely sounded serious.

“You want professional contracts?” Coach continued. “Then this week matters.”

Kieran nodded once. Controlled. Calm. But I saw the tension in his jaw.

The pressure was crushing him.

And for some reason…

That bothered me.

The meeting ended nearly an hour later. By the time I finally left the arena, night had already settled over campus. Cold wind sliced through the parking lot immediately. I shoved my freezing hands into my hoodie pockets while heading toward the bus stop.

Halfway there, headlights flashed across the pavement.

A black SUV rolled slowly beside me. The passenger window lowered.

Kieran. “You walking home?”

I frowned.

“It’s freezing.”

“I noticed.”

He studied me for a second before his eyes narrowed slightly. “Where’s your jacket?”

I blinked. “I have a hoodie.”

“That thing’s basically tissue paper.”

Before I could argue, Kieran grabbed the dark Crestwood hockey hoodie from the backseat and shoved it toward me through the window.

I stared at it.

Then at him.

“What?”

“Take it.”

“You’ll freeze.”

“I’m driving.”

“That’s not how temperature works.”

His mouth twitched slightly. “Amazing. The mascot understands science.”

I should’ve refused.

Probably.

Instead I took the hoodie slowly. Warmth still lingered inside the fabric. My pulse reacted immediately because apparently my body enjoyed betraying me now.

“You don’t have to keep doing that,” I muttered.

Kieran frowned slightly. “Doing what?”

“Acting all protective.”

Then Kieran leaned his arm against the window frame and looked directly at me.

“What if I do care?”

The question hit dangerously hard.

Before I could answer, a car horn blasted behind him impatiently. Kieran looked away briefly, annoyed, then back at me again.

“Get home safe, Carter.”

And just like that, he drove away.

Leaving me standing alone in Crestwood’s freezing parking lot wearing his hoodie.

My fingers tightened around the sleeves slowly.

Because that was the problem with Kieran Hampton.

Every time I convinced myself he was the villain…

He did something that made me hesitate.