Chapter 90

Chapter 90
KAIA

I stood outside Adrien's dorm building, my breath forming small clouds in the December air. Los Angeles winters weren't supposed to be this cold, but somehow the chill seemed to seep right through my jacket and into my bones. Or maybe it was just nerves.

My fingers traced the outline of the lion badge pinned to my chest, the metal warm from being pressed against my heart all morning. I'd changed outfits three times before settling on jeans and a sweater, wanting to look supportive but not... desperate. Was coming here desperate? The thought made my stomach flip.

The campus was decorated with twinkling lights and garlands, students hurrying past with their arms full of books and coffee cups. Finals week was over, and there was an almost giddy relief in the air. Everyone seemed to be moving with purpose except me, frozen on this sidewalk, second-guessing my decision to come.

I checked my phone again. Right on time. God, why was I so nervous? It was just Adrien. Just the boy who'd spent hours patiently helping me understand essay structure, who'd given me his lucky charm, who'd looked at me like I was something precious under the stars.

The memory of that night sent warmth spreading through my chest. The way he'd held my hand so carefully, like he was afraid I might disappear. The way he'd said my name when I'd hugged him goodbye, all rough and breathless.

I heard voices approaching and looked up to see two figures walking toward the building. As they got closer, I recognized Adrien's familiar silhouette, and beside him, a tall boy with dark skin who was gesturing animatedly as he spoke.

They both stopped short when they saw me.

"Oh my God," the other boy said loudly, his face breaking into an enormous grin. "Is this her? This is definitely her."

My face burst into flames. Adrien looked ready to deck Amir in an instant.

"Amir," he said in a warning tone.

"Kaia, right?" Amir ignored Adrien completely, his grin widening. "I'm Amir, the unfortunate roommate. And look at you, wearing his jersey number! That's basically a declaration of—"

"AMIR."

"What? I'm just saying, very team spirit. Very supportive." Amir's eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked between us. "Well, I can see I'm not needed here. I'll just..." He made exaggerated shooing motions with his hands. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

With that, he jogged up the steps to the building, calling over his shoulder, "Good luck today, superstar! Try not to embarrass yourself in front of your girlfriend!"

The door slammed behind him, leaving us in sudden, mortifying silence.

"I'm so sorry about him," Adrien said, running a hand through his hair. "He's... he means well, but—"

"It's okay," I said quickly, though my cheeks still felt like they were on fire. "He seems... enthusiastic."

Adrien's lips twitched, fighting a smile. When his eyes found mine, they softened immediately.

"Hi," he said, slightly breathless. "You came."

"I said I would." The words came out more confident than I felt. "I wanted to... to give you something. For luck."

Amir made an exaggerated "aww" sound, and Adrien elbowed him without looking away from me.

My hands were shaking as I reached for the badge on my chest. "This is yours," I said, carefully unpinning the golden lion. "Your lucky charm. I thought maybe... maybe you should have it back. For the game."

Adrien stared at the small piece of metal in my palm like I was offering him something infinitely precious. "Kaia, you don't have to—"

"I want to." I took a step closer, close enough to smell his cologne, something clean and woodsy that made me want to lean into him. "But there's a condition."

His eyebrows rose. "A condition?"

"You have to win." I tried for a teasing tone, but my voice came out softer than intended. "And then you have to give it back to me. After. When you're celebrating."

Something shifted in Adrien's expression, something intense and warm that made my knees weak. He held out his hand, palm up, and I dropped the badge into it. His fingers closed around it immediately, then around my hand.

"I promise," he said, and the way he looked at me made it feel like he was promising much more than just a hockey game.

"Get a room!" Amir called out, but his voice seemed to come from very far away.

ADRIEN

The weight of the lion badge in my pocket felt like a talisman. She'd turned back twice, giving me small waves that made my chest tight with something I couldn't quite name.

"Dude," Amir said, falling into step beside me as we headed toward our dorm. "She is gone for you."

"Shut up," I muttered, but I couldn't keep the grin off my face.

"I'm serious. Did you see how she looked at you? And giving you back your lucky charm with that whole 'you have to win' thing? That's girlfriend behavior, my friend."

I wanted to argue, but the truth was, having Kaia there, wearing my number, believing in me... it changed something. The knot of anxiety in my stomach had loosened the moment she'd smiled at me. The pressure was still there—this game mattered too much for it not to be—but underneath it was something steadier. Something that felt like hope.


---

By the time I reached the arena, my teammates were already filtering into the locker room. The temperature drop hit me as soon as I walked through the doors. December in Los Angeles might be mild outside, but Ivywood Arena was kept at a bone-deep chill that dried out the air and made every breath sharp.

The locker room buzzed with nervous energy. Equipment bags were scattered across benches, and the sharp sound of tape being ripped filled the space between muttered conversations and the thud of gear being dropped.

I found my spot and began the familiar ritual of getting ready. Shin guards first, then pants, shoulder pads, elbow pads. Each piece of equipment felt like armor going on, transforming me from nervous college student to something harder, more focused.

The outcome of this game was crucial for our league standings. Win, and we'd go into Christmas break sitting at the top of the conference. Lose, and we'd spend the rest of the season clawing our way back up.

I was wrapping the final layer of tape around my stick when I noticed Callum directly across from me, methodically coating his blade with wax. As the team's two top centers, we were natural rotation partners—every few minutes, when one of us was exhausted and climbing over the boards, the other would jump in with fresh legs and renewed energy.

The dynamic between us had always been complicated, but lately, it felt like walking on broken glass. Every interaction was loaded with unspoken tension, every glance a challenge.

"Ready up!" Coach's voice cut through the room like a blade.

I grabbed my gloves and stood, joining the flow of players moving toward the tunnel. In the narrow passage leading to the rink, Callum brushed past me, using his shoulder to give me a solid bump—the kind of aggressive contact that passed for camaraderie in hockey.

"Don't sleepwalk out there, Levent," he said, his eyes cold and sharp. "If you lose possession in the first period, I'll make sure you're warming the bench until spring."

I pulled my helmet down, my voice coming out muffled through the face guard. "Worry about yourself. Don't blow the lead after I set it up for you."

Then we were stepping onto the ice, and the roar of the crowd hit me like a physical force. The sound bounced off the arena ceiling, a wall of noise that made my heart race.

I scanned the stands automatically, looking for a familiar face, and found her immediately. Kaia was wearing my number seventeen jersey, the blue and gold making her stand out in the sea of fans. She was waving a rally towel enthusiastically, and I could see the lion badge pinned to her chest, catching the arena lights.

The referee took position at center ice, and I skated into formation opposite Leo Rossi, the Bears' starting center. I crouched low, stick positioned for the face-off, studying the ref's grip on the puck.

The whistle blew sharp and clean. The puck dropped, and instead of going for it directly, I used my core strength to pin Leo's stick with mine, the impact sending vibrations up through my arms. That split-second advantage was all I needed—I hooked the puck backward with a quick twist of my wrists.

The game exploded into motion immediately. Skates carved through ice with sounds like tearing silk, and bodies crashed into the boards with impacts that shook the glass.

Twelve minutes into the first period, their defenseman tried to cut me off at the blue line. He came at me like a freight train, all momentum and aggression. The collision sent me into the boards hard enough to rattle my teeth, ice chips flying as wood met shoulder pads, but not before I managed to sweep the puck toward center ice.

Amir was there to receive it, his pass quick and clean to our right wing, who buried it in the net before their goalie could react.

1-0. The arena erupted.

I pushed myself off the boards, breathing hard, and skated toward the bench. As I climbed over the boards, Callum was already vaulting over them in the opposite direction. For a brief moment, we were both airborne, and he knocked his stick against my leg pad—a gesture that somehow managed to be both acknowledgment and challenge.

I settled onto the bench, the lion badge a warm weight in my gear, and found Kaia in the stands again. Even from this distance, I could see her jumping up and down, cheering.

This time, I was going to keep every promise I'd made.